Title: Decadent
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Rating: Rish
Pairings: Laura/Kara
Date Written: 9 July 2011
Word Count: 400
Written for:
International Day of Femslash 2011Recipient:
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geekgrrllurkingPrompt: decadent
Summary: It's not that she doesn't get that there is a vast chasm of difference between them.
Warnings: light pain play
Website: ShatterStorm Productions - Frisked & Conquered
Link to:
http://f-n-c.shatterstorm.net/ Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Author’s Disclaimer: "Battlestar Galactica," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Ron Moore, David Eick, SciFi, R&D TV, Sky TV, and USA Cable Entertainment LLC. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Battlestar Galactica," SciFi, or any representatives of the actors whose characters are involved.
Author’s Notes: I'm really not sure where this came from, but I have missed writing for these two…
Dedication: My muses, for always taking a chance…
Beta: No beta yet, so all mistakes are mine…
"Decadent"
By A. Magiluna Stormwriter
She has her choice of the pilots, the knuckle draggers, the civilians; no one can put a limit on who she'll frak and who she won't, provided they're willing. And if they're good? Well, she's never denied that she's something of a playboy, has she?
But this is different. It's not that she doesn't get that there is a vast chasm of difference between them. She's always accepted that this was little more than a distraction both of them needed to keep their tenuous hold on sanity. And yet, she can't stay away.
There's just something about the smoky promise in those dark eyes that tosses her resolve to complete and utter mush. And she can't deny the visceral thrill of skulking about Colonial One for late night assignations without getting caught. But they don't do that nearly often enough. No, it's far easier for Laura to make some excuse to stay aboard Galactica. After all, more than half the fleet thinks she's frakking the Old Man. It's a perfect cover for their dirty little affair.
But she can't help looking forward to spending time with Laura aboard Colonial One. Just the thought of relative peace, quiet, and privacy is enough for Kara to continue hiding their relationship. The tub, incongruously large enough for the two of them, is her favorite part. Oh, and the larger bed with sheets that don't feel coated in Viper grime. And, okay, the sex is good, too. Phenomenal, even. Laura Roslin is a perfectionist in everything she does, and that means a frak of a lot of practice. Not that Kara's complaining, especially when that talented, acerbic tongue is put to better use than talking.
The white hot sizzle of pain spreads across her scalp, pulling her out of her thoughts as she registers the fist clenching her sweat-damp locks. If Laura took any of her hair again… Glaring up in pain, the breath catches in her throat at the fire in those liquid chocolate eyes.
"Head in the game, Captain," Laura growls from above her.
She wants to push back, wants to force Laura's hand. Literally. Wants to feel that hand mark her again, even if no one else will ever see the possession.
"There's time for that later," is the reply, as if the woman can read her mind. And maybe she can.
"Yes, ma'am," she replies, looking forward to her reward.
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