DISCLAIMER: Battlestar Galactica is the property of Glen A. Larson, Sci-Fi Channel, R & D TV, Sky and NBC Universal.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

By trancer


"You frakkin' bitch!"

Kara missed being on the receiving end of Kat's fist by mere millimeters. She'd missed the nugget's thunderous entrance, to into her workout with the heavy bag and soft leather gloves.

"You just couldn't stay out of it. Had to throw in your two cents."

An angry visit from the First Lieutenant hadn't been unexpected. She'd anticipated it the moment she'd finished her meeting with the old man.

Now, Kat was in Kara's space, eyes wide and angry, nostrils flaring, the veins on her forehead bulging to the point of bursting. Kara couldn't help the coy smile pulling at her lips, which didn't help, Kat pissed off, always had a tendency to amuse her.

She cocked an eyebrow. "You're not ready."

"The Hell I'm not. That position was mine. Until you had to stick your nose in my business."

"What happens to you nuggets IS my business. I'm telling you, Kat, it's not what you want."

"Frak you," she jabbed a pointed finger into Kara's shoulder. "If you're gonna take out the competition, at least have the balls and do it to my face."

Kara snorted. "You think I'm afraid of you?"

"Yeah," Kat sneered back.

"I'll tell you what," Kara walked to the edge of the mat. Grabbed a pair of gloves and tossed it at the woman. "You knock me on my ass and the promotion's yours."

"You serious?"

"What? Don't think you can do it?"

"Oh," Kat hurriedly pulled on the gloves. "I know I can do it."

"Bring it on."

They circled each other for what seemed an eternity. Slowly. Deliberately. Neither wanting to make the first move.

Kat struck first. Moving towards Kara with a series of tight, sharp jabs meant to push the woman off balance. Kara kept her hands up, took the blows. Stepped backwards, trying to move out of Kat's reach.

"Don't tell me you're getting scared?" Kat taunted her.

"Nope," Kara waited, like a viper waiting to strike. Waited, then unleashed a hard left hook. It caught Kat across the jaw. Her head whipped hard to the right. Body knocked off balance, she stumbled backwards.

Kara smirked watching Kat find her footing, shaking out the cobwebs. "Just waiting for my opening."

"And I've been waiting for mine," she swung with a swift uppercut, catching Kara under the chin. Her jaw slammed into her skull as stars formed in her vision and legs turned rubbery. Kat followed with a right hook, Kara spinning on her heel. Lashed out with a defensive jab, forcing Kat out of her reach.

Kara ran a forearm across her mouth. Saw the streak of blood across her skin, the metallic taste filling her mouth. The blood matched her vision because she was seeing red now. She smacked her gloved fists together. "Oh, it's on now."

They sparred back and forth, a series of jabs, punches, hooks and crosses. Skin covered in sweat, lungs sucking in larger and larger breaths, and still, neither would yield.

Kat lunged forward with her arm. Kara took the blow, twisting her body, wrapping her arm around Kat's waist and flipping the brunette onto her back. Straddling her hips, Kara pinned the woman to the mat.

"I don't know why you have such a hard-on for this promotion anyway," she smirked. "No matter what position you're in, you'll always be under me." Wiggled her hips tauntingly. "And I know how much you like that."

"Frak you!" Kat bucked her legs. Causing Kara to lose her tenuous grip on Kat's arms. Arms now swinging at Kara's head forcing Kara to roll sideways in an effort to avoid them.

Anything resembling technique, skill, anything resembling actual boxing now thrown out the window. It was a grudge match. A twisted tangle of arms, legs, torso, grunts and colorful expressions.

"What the frak's going on?" Tigh's voice cut through the tension like a chainsaw. The two women scrambled to their feet, snapping to attention.

"Well?" He barked even louder.

"Kat's promotion, Sir," Kara spoke first. "I bet the Lieutenant here that if she could knock my block off, I'd back it."

His brows raised, gaze going from Kara to Kat and back again. Until, finally, he stepped towards the younger woman. "Did you?"


Tigh cocked his head towards Kara. "Knock her block off?"

Kat couldn't help the cocksure grin forming on her lips, or the angry glare fired at Kara. "Not yet, Sir."

Tigh chuckled with a soft half-smile, clasping his hands behind his back giving the two one last look. "Well then, carry on."

Kara waited until the door closed before delivering a zinger across Kat's jaw. "Don't think Tigh's gonna save you from an ass beating."

"Funny," Kat answered with a zinger of her own. "I was thinking the same about you."

"Kara," the Old Man held out his hand, offering her the empty chair. "You gonna tell me why you're beating the crap outta my Pilots?"

Kara gently eased into the offered seat, attempting to stifle the wince creasing her lips, and failing. Adama held out a tumbler full of liquid and ice. She took it from his hand, pressing it against her temple, her other arm holding her bruised ribs. "Not all of 'em, just the one."

"Why?" He took his place behind the large wooden desk, pouring his own glass.

"Because she wants what she wants for the wrong reason."

"And what reason is that?"

Kara removed the glass from her forehead, bringing it to her lips and drinking a long pull. Continued staring into the amber liquid. "She thinks she can be me."

Adama chuckled softly. "I can think of worse people to emulate."

"That's just it, Sir. She shouldn't be trying to be me. She doesn't need to be me."

"So, why don't you just tell her that? Instead of beating it into her?"

"Because she's me," Kara downed the remainder setting it on the Old Man's desk. "And I wouldn't listen to me either."


Kara ignored the pain in her side. The jolt of electricity that jarred her entire body with each jab, sending flares of heat up and down her side with each impact. Instead, she continued to hit the heavy bag. Absorbed the pain.

Hit the bag until her muscles screamed, lungs burned, eyes welling until she could no longer ignore the pain. She tossed her gloves onto the floor. Began the process of unwrapping her taped hands.

"I wouldn't be so fast," Kat entered the room. She wore her own set of marks. A large purpling bruise under her eye matched the one across the bridge of her nose. Her left wrist taped up. "Unless you're ready to concede."

"Not today, nugget."

"All right," Kat held up her hands. "If you need a couple extra days to rest. I know how you old people are."

She was goading her. Kara knew it, still didn't stop her from taking the bait. She stepped towards the smaller woman. "You're never going to beat me. Wanna know why?"


Kara whipped a hand forward, grabbing Kat by the wrist. She twisted the woman around, pushing into the wall hard. Pressed her body against Kat's, pinning her into place. "Because you're so busy thinking about your next move instead of expecting the unexpected. Now, you wanna know why I didn't back you for the promotion?"

Kat grunted, straining to get out of the hold. Body relaxing only when she realized she was trapped. "All right, why?"

Once again, Kara whipped her around. This time, grabbing both wrists, holding them up high and pinning them to the wall. Certain she had the woman's attention. "Because you're a Pilot, Kat. A gods damned Pilot. You're meant to be in a cockpit, with a stick between your hands, a thousand horses rumbling between your thighs with enough thrust," she emphasized with a hard push of her thigh against Kat's crotch. "Enough thrust to blow down a house. You're meant to be out there frakkin' up toasters. Not in some control room staring at maps with tiny little models of where you really want to be."

She was panting now, staring down into brown eyes gone soft with something familiar but intangible. "You're not me, Kat. You don't wanna be me."

"What do I want?"

Now, she saw. Saw for the first time what had been right in front of her all along. Familiar. Tangible. Undeniable. The revelation most unexpected. Unexpected because it was far from one-sided. Kara crashed her lips against Kat's. Hard, wet, sloppy. Jutted her tongue into the tiniest hint of an opening. Continued holding onto Kat by the wrists, continued pressing her body against hers, until they were writhing against each other. Kat fighting for dominance even as she acquiesced.

They kissed until a new sheen of sweat covered their skin, and their moans echoed off the walls. Until their lungs screamed for air and they could no longer do what was most unexpected.

Kara pulled away first, staring down into hazy, glazed eyes. "That's why you'll never beat me. Expect the unexpected," she panted, pulling away from Kat. "And you'll get that promotion."

The End

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