Fanfic
Title: About Last Night
Chapter Three
Author: Aussie
Rated: M
Written for bugsfic's birthday. Unbelievably, this still isn't the last chapter. Blame Bill and Laura. They just won't shut up. :)
Link to chapter one
Link to chapter two
His hand cradled her face in his hand. He was going to kiss her.
“How are we going to make this work?” she whispered. “With you up there and me down here.”
He ignored her question, and instead bent his head. She thought he was going to kiss her forehead, or perhaps one of her cheeks. So when his lips moved lower, to her breasts peeking out over the top edge of her camisole, their size exaggerated by its tightness, she was unable to stifle a surprised whimper.
“It’s almost like I have joint custody of you. Your other woman gets you most of the time. I get every other weekend,” she rambled. If she kept talking she could avoiding thinking of the ache in the pit of her stomach, the burning of her thighs, or the tears in her eyes.
“Or it’s a vacation,” she panted, clinging to his shoulders. “Yes, I’m on a vacation. But you haven’t finished your work contract yet.”
He wasn’t listening. His fingers were flicking at the lacy edge of the top, eventually managing to make her breasts spill out completely.
“We could call each other, I guess. There is that Raptor with the wireless set up... Can we scramble--”
He raised his head and stepped back before she could finish her question.
She looked down at herself. Her nipples were hard and raised, glistening from his attention. She should be cold, in the night air, half naked. She was hot. She watched a flush suffuse her decolletage, causing her freckles to darken and become more prominent.
“You’re leaving?” she gasped.
Laura ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated. “I wish I could remember more,” she said.
Beside her, Bill chuckled. “You’re the one who brought that cigarette,” he reminded her mildly.
“I don’t like the way last night is already beginning to feel like another time, another place. I need some happy memories. Ones that will help get me through the lonely nights on the planet,” she admitted softly.
He took a slow audible breath beside her before giving her a quiet order: “Tell me a happy memory.”
She frowned over at him, uncertain.
“One memory that you can almost reach out and touch,” he elaborated. “One that, when you need to, you can hold onto.”
She looked away, turning all her attention back to the water. The wind had sprung up, and she focused gratefully on the ripples forming across the surface of the river.
“I don’t have any,” she insisted softly.
He began to talk. Her heart skipped a beat at the almost ethereal tone that came into his voice. “I ran alongside Zak, holding his bicycle’s handlebars as he pedalled furiously, but unsteadily. Then, one breathtaking moment: I let go. I stopped running, and he kept going--straight and strong.”
As his small story came to an end, her heart was pounding so loud she felt it thrumming through her entire body.
“You must have one happy memory from before the attacks.”
She began to shake her head, but stopped when she felt her hair stir. She knew it was from a kiss.
“Just one...,” he exhaled the words softly near her ear.
Her hands slowly clenched into fists by her side as one perfect day burst clear and sharp in her mind. “Cheryl and Sandra were there...” She faltered as other, less than happy, memories tried to force their way into her vision. She determinedly pushed them away. “And my mother...Father...” She sniffed. “A wedding.”
She saw their faces in amongst the gentle waves lapping the shore. She could remember in startling detail everything from that day--their dresses, their hairstyles, their accessories, even the way the girls had applied their makeup.
She touched her cheek. Surely she would still be able to feel the imprint from where she’d leaned on her father’s chest as they’d danced that night.
“That’s the only reason I want to remember last night,” Bill’s voice brought her back to the here and now. “So I have at least one other happy memory if I need it in the future,” he explained before they both fell silent.
He picked up a stick and began to draw circular shapes into the rocky sand beside her. She continued to watch the wind on the water.
Their companionable silence was comforting and blended with an acute intimacy. She realised that was exactly how last night was as well -- vaguely familiar, yet new, and special. He was right. Last night had been so special. It was a happy memory for them to cherish forever.
He was the first one to speak. However, his question wasn’t at all what she was expecting. “Was it your wedding?”
He adjusted her top and dragged her down the laneway.
Her dress and wrap, along with his tunic, were dispensed of between hard, urgent kisses as soon as they crashed through the doorway of her tent.
They fell upon her small cot, a tangled mess, laughing and motioning that their boots had to be removed.
His hands swept along her legs. She moaned loudly when he rubbed a knuckle against the gusset of her panties. He whispered vows of love and fidelity in her ear.
They both froze when they heard a familiar feminine voice just outside their tent.
“We should--” Before she could finish her thought he placed his finger across her lips, shushing her. She held his gaze as his other hand pushed aside her panties.
Soon she forgot Tory, closed her eyes, and relaxed into his touch. He flicked and teased her for a long while before changing his tempo and putting every effort into her pleasure. She writhed and gasped beneath him, quivering with her building excitement.
He muffled the rest of her groans with his palm over her mouth.
She bit down hard on her bottom lip, flustered from this sudden recollection.
He’d said they hadn’t had sex. She was piqued that he didn’t remember. Her irritation was unfair, she admitted, considering that she had only just remembered herself.
She swung away from the river to peer at him. His entire demeanour was tense. He was waiting for her to answer his question. Such a ridiculous question, she fumed.
“No,” she answered, drawling the word out as if it had more than one syllable.
He grimaced, making his face squint.
“I didn’t think my marital status was a secret,” she went on, looking pointedly at the ring on his hand. It winked back at her provocatively in the morning sun. “Yours is much more ambiguous.”
“Just because you’re not married now, doesn’t mean you never have been,” he quietly challenged.
She waited for a comeback on her comment about his ring, but it seemed he was ignoring the second of her statements. For some reason that made her even more unreasonably angry.
“No, I’ve never been married,” she bit out peevishly.
Bill wasn’t oblivious to her new mood apparently. Like some sort of petulant child, he snapped the stick he'd been drawing in the sand with and threw it onto the ground.
“The wedding was my sister Cheryl’s. My other sister, Sandra, and I were the bridesmaids.”
Sandra used to tease her, always a bridesmaid... She might now be a bride at last, only with some sort of weird ironic twist, because she didn’t know for sure.
She glanced over to where today’s newly betrothed couple sat while the tattoo artist darkened the wings on Kara’s arm.
“Of course, no one got tattoos at my sister’s wedding,” she snapped, now unable to control her annoyance with everyone and everything.
His reply was a blunt, “Of course not.”
She pulled at her wrap. “I think I need another coffee.”
“Chief and Cally want to have their baby on the planet.”
She hummed out an affirmative reply.
“Don’t you think it would be better to have a baby in sickbay with all the facilities available than in some tent?”
“It’s probably more important to her to be somewhere comfortable.”
“Galactica’s comfortable,” he insisted.
She smiled tenderly at his defensive attitude. “Your quarters are comfortable,” she said, patting his arm reassuringly. “The rest…I wouldn’t want to spend too much time in that sterile environment of sickbay if I was having a baby.”
She blinked back tears when his fingers began to lightly stroke across the slight swell of her belly.
Laura shivered slightly at this new memory jumping into her consciousness. And one so different from the last.
“You should go and find Chief; tell him you’re letting him settle,” she told Bill, making no apologies or giving any explanations for her sudden change of subject.
“You’re so sure I’m going to?” he murmured testily before reaching around for her shoes and socks.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Bill. You know it’s the right thing to do.”
“No, I don’t know if it’s the right thing. I think that’s the point, Laura, that we’re all dealing with unknowns by settling on this planet. One thing I do know is Galactica. I can trust her. I understand her. She won’t turn around and bite me on the ass.”
Through his sermon he had gently tugged on her socks and pushed on her boots. Now, he knelt in front of her tying her laces, just as he had earlier. And with his simple task all her anger oozed away.
“I thought you might let them settle because I’ve heard you’re a soft touch,” she said quietly.
He stood, helping her to her feet. “We need to say goodbye to the others.”
“Of course,” she hummed.
But neither of them moved. Laura stared at his hands clasped together tightly. Bill’s own gaze was directed at his boots.
Ellen’s piercing shriek of laughter distracted them both. They turned to see Sam’s tattoo was taking shape on his arm.
“I’m scared of needles,” she shyly admitted. “Since just before the attacks, I’ve had more than my fair share of them stuck in my arm, and other places, for tests, biopsies, drips, anaesthesia... I hold my breath and count to ten each time. Sometimes I even close my eyes. Stupid at my age. But, truly, I’d be happy to never have another one come near me.”
“So, you wouldn’t get a tattoo?”
She glanced quickly up at the wavy hair around Bill’s ears.
“Would you ever ask me to?” she breathed.
His gaze never left Sam’s arm.
“You gonna come with me?” he asked huskily. “To see Chief? We could find some coffee on the way.”
She smiled and bumped her shoulder against his. “Yes.”
Link to the next chapter
Chapter Three
Author: Aussie
Rated: M
Written for bugsfic's birthday. Unbelievably, this still isn't the last chapter. Blame Bill and Laura. They just won't shut up. :)
Link to chapter one
Link to chapter two
His hand cradled her face in his hand. He was going to kiss her.
“How are we going to make this work?” she whispered. “With you up there and me down here.”
He ignored her question, and instead bent his head. She thought he was going to kiss her forehead, or perhaps one of her cheeks. So when his lips moved lower, to her breasts peeking out over the top edge of her camisole, their size exaggerated by its tightness, she was unable to stifle a surprised whimper.
“It’s almost like I have joint custody of you. Your other woman gets you most of the time. I get every other weekend,” she rambled. If she kept talking she could avoiding thinking of the ache in the pit of her stomach, the burning of her thighs, or the tears in her eyes.
“Or it’s a vacation,” she panted, clinging to his shoulders. “Yes, I’m on a vacation. But you haven’t finished your work contract yet.”
He wasn’t listening. His fingers were flicking at the lacy edge of the top, eventually managing to make her breasts spill out completely.
“We could call each other, I guess. There is that Raptor with the wireless set up... Can we scramble--”
He raised his head and stepped back before she could finish her question.
She looked down at herself. Her nipples were hard and raised, glistening from his attention. She should be cold, in the night air, half naked. She was hot. She watched a flush suffuse her decolletage, causing her freckles to darken and become more prominent.
“You’re leaving?” she gasped.
Laura ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated. “I wish I could remember more,” she said.
Beside her, Bill chuckled. “You’re the one who brought that cigarette,” he reminded her mildly.
“I don’t like the way last night is already beginning to feel like another time, another place. I need some happy memories. Ones that will help get me through the lonely nights on the planet,” she admitted softly.
He took a slow audible breath beside her before giving her a quiet order: “Tell me a happy memory.”
She frowned over at him, uncertain.
“One memory that you can almost reach out and touch,” he elaborated. “One that, when you need to, you can hold onto.”
She looked away, turning all her attention back to the water. The wind had sprung up, and she focused gratefully on the ripples forming across the surface of the river.
“I don’t have any,” she insisted softly.
He began to talk. Her heart skipped a beat at the almost ethereal tone that came into his voice. “I ran alongside Zak, holding his bicycle’s handlebars as he pedalled furiously, but unsteadily. Then, one breathtaking moment: I let go. I stopped running, and he kept going--straight and strong.”
As his small story came to an end, her heart was pounding so loud she felt it thrumming through her entire body.
“You must have one happy memory from before the attacks.”
She began to shake her head, but stopped when she felt her hair stir. She knew it was from a kiss.
“Just one...,” he exhaled the words softly near her ear.
Her hands slowly clenched into fists by her side as one perfect day burst clear and sharp in her mind. “Cheryl and Sandra were there...” She faltered as other, less than happy, memories tried to force their way into her vision. She determinedly pushed them away. “And my mother...Father...” She sniffed. “A wedding.”
She saw their faces in amongst the gentle waves lapping the shore. She could remember in startling detail everything from that day--their dresses, their hairstyles, their accessories, even the way the girls had applied their makeup.
She touched her cheek. Surely she would still be able to feel the imprint from where she’d leaned on her father’s chest as they’d danced that night.
“That’s the only reason I want to remember last night,” Bill’s voice brought her back to the here and now. “So I have at least one other happy memory if I need it in the future,” he explained before they both fell silent.
He picked up a stick and began to draw circular shapes into the rocky sand beside her. She continued to watch the wind on the water.
Their companionable silence was comforting and blended with an acute intimacy. She realised that was exactly how last night was as well -- vaguely familiar, yet new, and special. He was right. Last night had been so special. It was a happy memory for them to cherish forever.
He was the first one to speak. However, his question wasn’t at all what she was expecting. “Was it your wedding?”
He adjusted her top and dragged her down the laneway.
Her dress and wrap, along with his tunic, were dispensed of between hard, urgent kisses as soon as they crashed through the doorway of her tent.
They fell upon her small cot, a tangled mess, laughing and motioning that their boots had to be removed.
His hands swept along her legs. She moaned loudly when he rubbed a knuckle against the gusset of her panties. He whispered vows of love and fidelity in her ear.
They both froze when they heard a familiar feminine voice just outside their tent.
“We should--” Before she could finish her thought he placed his finger across her lips, shushing her. She held his gaze as his other hand pushed aside her panties.
Soon she forgot Tory, closed her eyes, and relaxed into his touch. He flicked and teased her for a long while before changing his tempo and putting every effort into her pleasure. She writhed and gasped beneath him, quivering with her building excitement.
He muffled the rest of her groans with his palm over her mouth.
She bit down hard on her bottom lip, flustered from this sudden recollection.
He’d said they hadn’t had sex. She was piqued that he didn’t remember. Her irritation was unfair, she admitted, considering that she had only just remembered herself.
She swung away from the river to peer at him. His entire demeanour was tense. He was waiting for her to answer his question. Such a ridiculous question, she fumed.
“No,” she answered, drawling the word out as if it had more than one syllable.
He grimaced, making his face squint.
“I didn’t think my marital status was a secret,” she went on, looking pointedly at the ring on his hand. It winked back at her provocatively in the morning sun. “Yours is much more ambiguous.”
“Just because you’re not married now, doesn’t mean you never have been,” he quietly challenged.
She waited for a comeback on her comment about his ring, but it seemed he was ignoring the second of her statements. For some reason that made her even more unreasonably angry.
“No, I’ve never been married,” she bit out peevishly.
Bill wasn’t oblivious to her new mood apparently. Like some sort of petulant child, he snapped the stick he'd been drawing in the sand with and threw it onto the ground.
“The wedding was my sister Cheryl’s. My other sister, Sandra, and I were the bridesmaids.”
Sandra used to tease her, always a bridesmaid... She might now be a bride at last, only with some sort of weird ironic twist, because she didn’t know for sure.
She glanced over to where today’s newly betrothed couple sat while the tattoo artist darkened the wings on Kara’s arm.
“Of course, no one got tattoos at my sister’s wedding,” she snapped, now unable to control her annoyance with everyone and everything.
His reply was a blunt, “Of course not.”
She pulled at her wrap. “I think I need another coffee.”
“Chief and Cally want to have their baby on the planet.”
She hummed out an affirmative reply.
“Don’t you think it would be better to have a baby in sickbay with all the facilities available than in some tent?”
“It’s probably more important to her to be somewhere comfortable.”
“Galactica’s comfortable,” he insisted.
She smiled tenderly at his defensive attitude. “Your quarters are comfortable,” she said, patting his arm reassuringly. “The rest…I wouldn’t want to spend too much time in that sterile environment of sickbay if I was having a baby.”
She blinked back tears when his fingers began to lightly stroke across the slight swell of her belly.
Laura shivered slightly at this new memory jumping into her consciousness. And one so different from the last.
“You should go and find Chief; tell him you’re letting him settle,” she told Bill, making no apologies or giving any explanations for her sudden change of subject.
“You’re so sure I’m going to?” he murmured testily before reaching around for her shoes and socks.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Bill. You know it’s the right thing to do.”
“No, I don’t know if it’s the right thing. I think that’s the point, Laura, that we’re all dealing with unknowns by settling on this planet. One thing I do know is Galactica. I can trust her. I understand her. She won’t turn around and bite me on the ass.”
Through his sermon he had gently tugged on her socks and pushed on her boots. Now, he knelt in front of her tying her laces, just as he had earlier. And with his simple task all her anger oozed away.
“I thought you might let them settle because I’ve heard you’re a soft touch,” she said quietly.
He stood, helping her to her feet. “We need to say goodbye to the others.”
“Of course,” she hummed.
But neither of them moved. Laura stared at his hands clasped together tightly. Bill’s own gaze was directed at his boots.
Ellen’s piercing shriek of laughter distracted them both. They turned to see Sam’s tattoo was taking shape on his arm.
“I’m scared of needles,” she shyly admitted. “Since just before the attacks, I’ve had more than my fair share of them stuck in my arm, and other places, for tests, biopsies, drips, anaesthesia... I hold my breath and count to ten each time. Sometimes I even close my eyes. Stupid at my age. But, truly, I’d be happy to never have another one come near me.”
“So, you wouldn’t get a tattoo?”
She glanced quickly up at the wavy hair around Bill’s ears.
“Would you ever ask me to?” she breathed.
His gaze never left Sam’s arm.
“You gonna come with me?” he asked huskily. “To see Chief? We could find some coffee on the way.”
She smiled and bumped her shoulder against his. “Yes.”
Link to the next chapter