Word Count: 600
Pairing/Focus: Lee, Kara
Summary: DO YOU PEOPLE HAVE ANY CLUE HOW FEW WORDS THIS IS!!
He watched her for a moment, releasing a breath that he hadn't known that he was holding. She was here; she really was here, and she was the most beautiful sight he'd seen.
Her uniform was pulled half-off to combat the stifling heat of the hangar, and she was lying on the floor beneath one of the Chief's pet planes. Stupid things shouldn't have even been flying, and yet they had, and would; they had to just as she would, as she had to.
Beautiful. If he could bring himself to step closer he knew he'd smell soap and grease and sweat, a familiar combination. But at the moment he couldn't move. She held him, not because she was a woman, or pilot, or mechanic. It didn't have a thing to do with her being one of only two familiar elements remaining in his life, and the only one he was currently speaking with. It didn’t have to do with the relief in knowing their last words would not be in anger, or with friendship or camaraderie. It had to do with life; and she radiated that.
It was why he was watching as she puzzled over whatever she was fixing. He could go scare her, which might be fun. He’d enjoy of watching her smash her head into the underbelly of the Viper. It was just the kind of thing he would have done if they'd been kids. Neither of them was a kid anymore.
So he ignored the childish impulse and instead reflected on the beauty before him: the perfection of hands that were small enough to finagle a repair, strong enough to control a Viper, or destructive enough to strike a superior officer and leave a bruise that would last for days. But she was more than her hands. She had a smile that could light a room, and with a sarcastic remark could put anyone in his place while releasing the tension in everyone else around her. She could outrun him if she tried, and could outfly him in a heartbeat. He resented neither. He couldn't. She was who she was, and to be less would be unthinkable.
She was light in the dark of space, if for no other reason than that she was familiar. She was gentle, and honest, and would be true to herself, whatever the provocation to act otherwise. That was just her. There was of course bad with the good; life was like that. She had a temper, and a penchant for trouble, but neither was without some restraint. She had a wicked right cross which he’d learned to avoid that years before. And yes, she had a way of making a man wonder if he was really good enough, smart enough, or stupid enough to take her on whether as friend or lover or enemy.
And she was intent. She was fighting with the underbelly of that Viper as though her life depended on it, as all of their lives did, so he decided that he wouldn't be a brat and make her see stars, or act like a sex-starved soldier and pull her into his arms for a dramatic kiss. He would just be a friend. Because friendship knew no boundaries; only possibilities.
Finally he moved closer, couldn’t hold back his smile. Lords, it was good to see her. "Hey," he called out.
She didn't jump, didn't see stars, and didn't look all that rattled. Grey eyes met his and a slow smile spread across her face. "Hey," she returned.
And Lee knew then that there were no boundaries.