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birthday ficlet
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Stupid short pilots ficlet for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
em_meredith's birthday. 600 words. Rated PG. No spoilers, takes place in some magical fourth season that won't happen.
"What the frak is that?" Kara shifts in their bed and wipes her nose with the back of her hand, pushes back her greasy hair.
Lee looks at her, notes that her skin seems just slightly less pale than it did yesterday, and carefully sets his burden onto the deck. "What does it look like?"
"It looks like a tub."
"Ah, so you're not as dumb as you look," he says with a grin. It's really a storage bin used by the galley staff, but he figures she doesn't need to know that. He made sure to scrub it out before filling it with hot water. He even added an all-too-precious bar of soap, which bobs enticingly on the surface.
"What are you expecting me to do with that thing?" she asks suspiciously.
"Well, you keep complaining about how you hate feeling dirty but you don't have the strength to get up and hit the showers, so I --" he gestures broadly at the metal tub -- "brought hygiene to you."
"Lee, I'm sick, I'm not an invalid."
He folds his arms. "And yet, you're totally acting like one."
"I'm not even sick enough for Cottle to keep me in the infirmary!"
"A fact for which I am sure he is eternally grateful."
"I just feel like...crap and I think I'm entitled to bitch about it. And I would rather lie here and stew in my own stink than use that thing like some withered old prune in an end of life facility."
"If you could smell what I smell, you wouldn't be saying that," he says. She glares at him, but he's expecting it, and counters with his best smile. "Come on. I promise you'll feel better. Trust me."
There's a long pause, as those last two words seem to get through to her. She rolls her eyes, but slowly sits up, then rises to her feet. She fixes her gaze on his face as she strips off her tank and sleep pants, but he keeps his own expression impassive as she walks naked over to the tub.
"Get in," he says. He reaches out to help her, but she brushes him off irritably. Should have seen that coming. He backs up a step and waits for her to ease herself fully down into the warm, soapy water. When she does, she lets out a shuddering sigh and rests her forehead on her knees.
"Hey." He crouches down beside her, puts his hand on the rim of the tub. "You okay?"
"Yeah." After a moment she sucks in a breath and raises her head, looks at him. "This, um, feels pretty good."
He tries not to grin; fails miserably. "Yeah?"
The corners of her mouth twitch and she immediately looks better than she has in days. "Yeah."
He smiles wider, feeling a pulse of relief, and pushes a strand of hair away from her eyes, lets his finger trail down her cheek. "You're welcome," he murmurs.
To his surprise she responds by grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. Her mouth is dry and her breath is stale, but the kiss is warm and tender and he knows it's easier for her to talk to him this way. And he certainly doesn't mind.
When their lips part she clears her throat and grabs the bar of soap, holds it up. "No washcloth?"
He curses under his breath. "I knew I forgot something."
"I'll manage," she says, then gives him a smirk. "You gonna help me?"
"I'm trying," he says, and wonders if that will ever be enough.
end.
Stupid short pilots ficlet for
em_meredith's birthday. 600 words. Rated PG. No spoilers, takes place in some magical fourth season that won't happen."What the frak is that?" Kara shifts in their bed and wipes her nose with the back of her hand, pushes back her greasy hair.
Lee looks at her, notes that her skin seems just slightly less pale than it did yesterday, and carefully sets his burden onto the deck. "What does it look like?"
"It looks like a tub."
"Ah, so you're not as dumb as you look," he says with a grin. It's really a storage bin used by the galley staff, but he figures she doesn't need to know that. He made sure to scrub it out before filling it with hot water. He even added an all-too-precious bar of soap, which bobs enticingly on the surface.
"What are you expecting me to do with that thing?" she asks suspiciously.
"Well, you keep complaining about how you hate feeling dirty but you don't have the strength to get up and hit the showers, so I --" he gestures broadly at the metal tub -- "brought hygiene to you."
"Lee, I'm sick, I'm not an invalid."
He folds his arms. "And yet, you're totally acting like one."
"I'm not even sick enough for Cottle to keep me in the infirmary!"
"A fact for which I am sure he is eternally grateful."
"I just feel like...crap and I think I'm entitled to bitch about it. And I would rather lie here and stew in my own stink than use that thing like some withered old prune in an end of life facility."
"If you could smell what I smell, you wouldn't be saying that," he says. She glares at him, but he's expecting it, and counters with his best smile. "Come on. I promise you'll feel better. Trust me."
There's a long pause, as those last two words seem to get through to her. She rolls her eyes, but slowly sits up, then rises to her feet. She fixes her gaze on his face as she strips off her tank and sleep pants, but he keeps his own expression impassive as she walks naked over to the tub.
"Get in," he says. He reaches out to help her, but she brushes him off irritably. Should have seen that coming. He backs up a step and waits for her to ease herself fully down into the warm, soapy water. When she does, she lets out a shuddering sigh and rests her forehead on her knees.
"Hey." He crouches down beside her, puts his hand on the rim of the tub. "You okay?"
"Yeah." After a moment she sucks in a breath and raises her head, looks at him. "This, um, feels pretty good."
He tries not to grin; fails miserably. "Yeah?"
The corners of her mouth twitch and she immediately looks better than she has in days. "Yeah."
He smiles wider, feeling a pulse of relief, and pushes a strand of hair away from her eyes, lets his finger trail down her cheek. "You're welcome," he murmurs.
To his surprise she responds by grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. Her mouth is dry and her breath is stale, but the kiss is warm and tender and he knows it's easier for her to talk to him this way. And he certainly doesn't mind.
When their lips part she clears her throat and grabs the bar of soap, holds it up. "No washcloth?"
He curses under his breath. "I knew I forgot something."
"I'll manage," she says, then gives him a smirk. "You gonna help me?"
"I'm trying," he says, and wonders if that will ever be enough.
end.