wisteria (wisteria_) wrote,

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Twelve Days of Pilots: 12 Drummers Drumming

I made it to the end! Credit for this ficlet idea goes to Indi, who is marvelous at coming up with inspiration. And a million thank-yous to everyone who has been reading for the past twelve days!

12 Drummers Drumming
For elly427 and elzed, who love a bit of a Pilot tease. :)

* * * * *


She reaches over and slaps the snooze button, all without opening her eyes. Ten more minutes.


He turns off the staccato beat of the alarm and rolls out of bed, dropping a kiss on her forehead. In the small head, he brushes his teeth to the sound of her grumbling as she gets up. While he spits out the toothpaste and rinses, she comes in and promptly sits down on the toilet. He mutters an old joke about too much intimacy, then leaves her to it. She turns on the shower. He chooses a suit for the day.


All these nights spent here with him on Colonial One have spoiled her. Instead of the four-minute scrubdowns back on the ship, she now takes so long that he’s tempted to ask if she has drowned. When she finally emerges, he’s waiting for her with a fresh towel. Water cascading down her body, she starts to dry off. He sheds his boxers, and she pinches his naked ass as he steps into the shower for his turn. He’d prefer to have her in there with him, but they've learned through trial and error that it kills any chance of staying on schedule.


He takes his time in the shower. The repetitive motion gives him a chance to plan his day. An endless slate of meetings, but he’s found that he enjoys the process and effects far more than he’d expected. When he emerges, she’s peering into the mirror, examining her teeth – her one true source of vanity. Without missing a beat, she hands him his own towel. He dries off quickly then leans against her back and slides one hand along her side and up to cup a breast, fingers tweaking the nipple. He meets her eyes in the mirror, where she winks at him. She presses her ass into his hips like she’s making a promise for when they’re back here tonight. It’s the reason – well, one of them – why he loves her. Most of his previous girlfriends would have rolled their eyes or ignored his hand on their breasts, if he’d even thought to go that far. She acts like it’s all a challenge, and he can’t wait to see what she comes up with tonight.


The old wall clock tick-tocks the morning rush. They step around each other in a carefully-choreographed dance, pulling uniforms and business suits out of the small closet. He puts on his slacks then sits on the edge of the bed to deal with his shoes and socks. As she walks by, he sticks out a foot to trip her. She flails then quickly recovers before she can hit the deck, and she turns to him with a finger pointed in a threat. He smiles at her, and she relents. Just a little bit.


As he loops his tie around his neck, he realizes that she hasn’t actually said anything to him so far today, which unusual for a woman who’ll find a way to bitch or joke about nearly anything. He’s glad, though; hearing her voice would just remind him of what she’d moaned last night, and right now they’re on a schedule. Barely forty minutes until her shuttle back to the bucket, and they haven’t eaten yet. He pulls at the tie, twisting it into its usual knot. When he’s done, she moves around to face him and straightens the knot. Then she pats down his chest, one eyebrow raised as she traces the curves of his muscles under the layers of cloth. She finishes it off with a quick kiss.


He spends a few minutes in the washroom, brushing his hair into something presentable. Wearing it longer appeals to him, but it means adapting his morning routines after years of hardly any hair to speak off. Now that everything’s perfect, he walks out into the room, where she’s sitting at the table with a half-eaten breakfast. Her BDUs are wrinkled, and he suspects she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Most likely the latter. They sit there and eat a small apple and algae bars that his stomach has only recently begun to accept without argument. She goes through the CAP rotation for the next few days, while he reads various proposals from one of the citizen groups. He shifts his feet and accidentally taps hers; she retaliates by sliding her still-bare foot under the cuff of his pants.


When they arrive in the small deck, the Raptor pilot – an unfamiliar woman who must be a new recruit – is waiting for them. After a month of mornings like this, they should be past the big goodbye scene. But he still tugs her close for a quick hug. She kisses the curve of his neck as he murmurs, “Love you.” Time’s up, though. So she pulls back, gives him a big grin, and disappears into the shuttle.

* * * * *

End (12/12)
Tags: fic - 12 days of pilots

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