FIC: Under Water
Title: Under Water
Author: bugs
Rating: M
Genre: PWP, Romance
Word Count: 2,100
A/N: More catching up on fics I've posted elsewhere. Written for defyingnormalcy's birthday and about_time's prompt, Tauron.
~
Laura Roslin stumbled down the dim tunnel, clutching her towel to her naked body. In the dim corridor only lit by flickering torches, and without her glasses, she was having trouble making out the Tauron symbols on the heavy steel doors to each chamber.
This had seemed like a good idea at the time. She and a group of other Caprican educators would celebrate the end of their intense, week-long symposium on Tauron by going to a traditional cavern sauna before their flight home. She'd imagined something like the day spas on Caprica, not this dark, hot, cave with water dripping off the stone walls.
She stopped before a hatch and leaned close enough that her nose was nearly pressed to it. This symbol looked right...If she was remembering correctly. The other women had already arrived, but Laura had been held back after the last conference to chat with the delegate from President Collins' administration. He had been very interested to know about Mayor Adar's plans for educational reform in Caprica City.
She tugged the heavy hatch open. Gasping with effort, she fell into the cave.
"Don't close that door!" bellowed a male voice, booming off the stone.
A man?! Laura scrambled backward, holding up her towel, but her back thumped against the door just as it closed and they were plunged into complete darkness.
"Damn," the man said, sounding defeated.
"I think I'm in the wrong room," Laura said.
"Worse than that, you're stuck in the wrong room. The door's latch is broken."
"Broken?" Foolishly, she tugged at the handle. It didn't budge.
"Might as well come sit down and we'll wait for the next person to come along." His husky voice grew closer as he spoke.
She licked her lips, feeling the unseen walls moving in on her. The heat was stifling, the steam thick. There was a strange man in the dark with her.
"Come this way," he said with calm assurance. "There's a bench and cool water."
Relieved, she reached out--and stuck her finger in what felt like an eye.
"Ow," he grunted.
"I'm sorry!" she gasped. She fumbled again, this time her hand sliding along a damp, firm chest. "I'm sorry," she just kept babbling as her fingers ran across a strong shoulder, clutched a hard bicep...
"No problem." His voice sounded amused.
He took her hand in his wide, surprisingly soft palm. When she closed her fingers around his, though, the knuckles were rock-hard and sharp. "Come this way, slowly," he cautioned.
She felt very at a disadvantage as she crept across the room's uneven floor. "You can see?" she asked.
"No," he said dryly. "But I've been stuck in here long enough to figure out the floor plan."
"Shouldn't there be a light?"
"The door should open too."
She stumbled and fell against him. The force loosened her towel and in the dark, his hands seemed to find everything but her towel. It was his turn to apologize.
"It's fine," she said as she secured the towel under her arms again.
"The bench is right here." He guided her to sit on what felt like a stone outcropping. "And it's as far from the hot rocks as we can get."
She fought her panic again. "Won't we die in this heat?"
"There's cool water here." He took her hand again, the soft palm guiding her fingers to a trickle of delightfully ice-cold water coming from the cave wall. Cupping her hands, she doused her flaming face.
"Thank you," she murmured.
"Bill."
"I'm sorry?" she asked, wondering if he was asking for a tip.
"I'm Bill."
"Oh, Laura."
"Good to meet you." His rumbling voice sounded as though he had leaned back against the wall.
"My friends are expecting me. Hopefully they'll search for me?"
"Are they Capricans too?"
"How did you know I was a Caprican?"
His chuckle had the same raspy quality as his voice and made the hairs on her arms stand on end, even in the stifling heat.
"Are you a Tauron?" she asked, deciding to make conversation.
"In a manner of speaking. My Tsattie would say I'm a Caprican."
"Your grandmother?" she said, proud of what she'd picked up from the language guide during the flight to the colony.
He deflated her pride. "You're one of those teachers who's swarming all over, aren't you?" His amused tone belied his aggressive words.
"Yes," she said stiffly. "How could you tell?"
"Not many Capricans have much interest in dirt eater 'culture'."
"Taurons aren't dirt eaters," she protested.
"Been to the cultural sensitivity class, huh?"
"You've got a chip on your shoulder," she retorted, then suddenly had a flash of feeling the bone and muscle of his strong shoulder under her seeking hand.
"Maybe," he admitted.
"Are you a teacher too? You seem to know a lot about the symposium," she retorted.
His warm chuckle made her stomach waver this time. "Nope. Staying in the same hotel."
"So you're a visitor to the planet," she said smugly, bringing cold water to pour between her breasts. He'd been at the hotel...She wondered which of the men who'd caught her eye he was. He didn't seem to be that much taller than her, he was muscular and stocky...She would have remembered if that voice had spoken to her...She knew nothing more.
"Yeah, I'm a visitor." There was no humor in his voice this time.
"I'm sorry--" She could tell there was a painful story behind his tone.
"I thought it would be a good idea to come here and learn something about my roots. Kinda rootless these days--"
This time, when her hand went to the cool water, his fingers were already there. She started to murmur an apology, but wordlessly, his larger hands cupped water and found her shoulders in the dark to empty water over her neck.
"Thank you," she said breathlessly.
"No problem," he replied.
"Rootless?"
"Huh?"
"You said you were rootless," she probed.
"Got divorced," he said shortly.
"I'm sorry," she said for what felt like the hundredth time.
"Yeah, so am I. Don't like to break a vow."
"Is that part of Tauron culture?"
Exasperated, he asked, "Do Capricans get divorced at the drop of a hat?"
"No, but you made it sound like a matter of honor, rather than a personal matter between the two of you. I wouldn't want to be divorced either, but I wouldn't want to be miserable."
"Who said I was miserable?" he protested hotly.
She stifled her apology and a few other choice remarks.
"But I guess she was," he said dejectedly.
"You can't make someone miserable unless they allow you to."
"So you're not married?" The laughter was back in his voice and she giggled.
"No, Bill, I'm not."
The air, so heavy and oppressive, suddenly felt crackling and dry. With shaking hands, she scooped the cool water to her mouth.
"I'm surprised," he said.
"You know nothing about me!" She wiped the sweat from her face with her already damp towel.
"I know you're a beautiful woman."
She giggled again. "All cats are grey in the dark, you know."
"Your hair isn't gray," he said definitely.
Leaning back too, she felt bold. "I'm a blonde."
"Really," he rasped. "Don't sound like a blonde."
"What does a blonde sound like?" she asked tartly, twining one of her curls around her finger; her hair was frizzing like crazy.
"Not gonna walk into that one."
She snorted another laugh. Smart man.
"No, you're beautiful," he said, suddenly sounding very close. "You have a beautiful mind; open and curious. You have a beautiful voice--warm. And you gotta cute laugh."
For the first time since she'd entered the sauna, Laura head went light. "Thanks," she stuttered.
Something felt very elemental about this experience. A man--a strong, muscled man; a woman--heated and close to liquid; a cave--dark and nurturing.
She reached for the water again and his hand was waiting. Their fingers twined in the dark. Her skittering fingers followed the strong, deep life line up his soft palm to find a racing pulse at his thick wrist. His broad thumb stroked along the veins and tendons standing boldly on the back of her hand.
Ever since her family's death, Laura had been making some very poor choices in her personal life. She was rejecting nice men out of hand, and had had one night stands that later frightened her when she considered the risks she'd taken. This complete stranger in dark, with his soft, sleek skin over hard muscle and tough bone, his rich, husky voice, was making her more aroused than she'd been in years. She should be frightened. But it felt so right as his hand traveled up her arm, skimmed across her collarbone and cradled her jaw.
"Laura--"
Her flailing hand found his shoulder and squeezed it hard--a signal.
Still, they had trouble finding each other in the dark. His lips skimmed her damp cheek, then tracked back toward her mouth. She shifted forward too soon, and their noses mashed together. When she tried again, she bit his stubbled chin. Their mouths finally made contact and she had the shock of feeling the brush of a mustache across her upper lip before his tongue sought hers.
She expected--wanted--him to be aggressive and brutal. Instead, his kisses were slow and drugging, making her sink deeper and deeper under the weight of water. Her limbs became boneless; her hand slid down his chest to clutch his towel in her fist. Something moved against her hand...For a long moment, she resisted the urge, sanity blaring a warning horn in her mind.
Then she moved the towel.
He gasped against her mouth and her hand froze. When he opened his legs wider, she took that as an invitation.
Suddenly nimble, her fingers sought and found their target. Now it was her turn to gasp. She weighed it in her palm, she stroked down the length, she thumbed the head...
"Oh frak, Laura--" he groaned against her cheek, fighting for air. Now she was frightened; it was the reverence in his tone.
Before she could change her mind, though, his big hands found her breasts as her towel fell to her lap. With excruciating slowness, he explored them, discovering how responsive her nipples were to his caresses. His head dipped blindly, his mouth seeking to join his touch.
Laura's sweaty palm slipped free from his length as he lifted her bodily onto his lap, opening her body to him. His hand swirled down her stomach, traveling toward the junction of her thighs.
When he heard her whimper, he asked, "Yes?" breathlessly.
"Yes," she mouthed around his lower lip she had trapped in her teeth. When she widened her legs to give him better access, she pressed his cock to his belly. Foggily, she decided they were going about this all wrong. She needed to be astride him--she started to struggle...
"Gods, I'm sorry." That sexy voice now sounded so contrite, the big strong hands were gone, the mouth was away from her hot skin.
She hissed with frustration. Kneeling on the seating, she managed to grab a handful of his thick hair and pull him back into another kiss. He caught back up quickly, his hands at her waist, tugging her to him. She smiled against his lips and wiggled forward--
The hatch creaked open a crack. "Laura?" called in Anna, the other representative from the Adar administration.
Bill and Laura leapt apart. She scrambled for her towel and found his instead. "Yes, Anna!"
Bill melted back into the dark cave.
Laura hurried to the door, grateful that her arousal wasn't as obvious as his. She had a legitimate reason to be flushed and sweating.
She pushed Ana out the door before her friend could look around. "Here, let's leave this door open so the next person knows it's free," she said loudly.
"Laura, the shuttle leaves for Caprica in an hour. Where have you been?" scolded Ana.
Leading her away from the cave, Laura apologized. "Yes, it is time to get back to our world," she said definitely, not looking behind her. Free from the dark, moist sauna, she became chilled and filled with fear that Bill would follow. What had just happened had been her final, riskiest encounter; from now on, she'd find something safe.
The end~
Author: bugs
Rating: M
Genre: PWP, Romance
Word Count: 2,100
A/N: More catching up on fics I've posted elsewhere. Written for defyingnormalcy's birthday and about_time's prompt, Tauron.
~
Laura Roslin stumbled down the dim tunnel, clutching her towel to her naked body. In the dim corridor only lit by flickering torches, and without her glasses, she was having trouble making out the Tauron symbols on the heavy steel doors to each chamber.
This had seemed like a good idea at the time. She and a group of other Caprican educators would celebrate the end of their intense, week-long symposium on Tauron by going to a traditional cavern sauna before their flight home. She'd imagined something like the day spas on Caprica, not this dark, hot, cave with water dripping off the stone walls.
She stopped before a hatch and leaned close enough that her nose was nearly pressed to it. This symbol looked right...If she was remembering correctly. The other women had already arrived, but Laura had been held back after the last conference to chat with the delegate from President Collins' administration. He had been very interested to know about Mayor Adar's plans for educational reform in Caprica City.
She tugged the heavy hatch open. Gasping with effort, she fell into the cave.
"Don't close that door!" bellowed a male voice, booming off the stone.
A man?! Laura scrambled backward, holding up her towel, but her back thumped against the door just as it closed and they were plunged into complete darkness.
"Damn," the man said, sounding defeated.
"I think I'm in the wrong room," Laura said.
"Worse than that, you're stuck in the wrong room. The door's latch is broken."
"Broken?" Foolishly, she tugged at the handle. It didn't budge.
"Might as well come sit down and we'll wait for the next person to come along." His husky voice grew closer as he spoke.
She licked her lips, feeling the unseen walls moving in on her. The heat was stifling, the steam thick. There was a strange man in the dark with her.
"Come this way," he said with calm assurance. "There's a bench and cool water."
Relieved, she reached out--and stuck her finger in what felt like an eye.
"Ow," he grunted.
"I'm sorry!" she gasped. She fumbled again, this time her hand sliding along a damp, firm chest. "I'm sorry," she just kept babbling as her fingers ran across a strong shoulder, clutched a hard bicep...
"No problem." His voice sounded amused.
He took her hand in his wide, surprisingly soft palm. When she closed her fingers around his, though, the knuckles were rock-hard and sharp. "Come this way, slowly," he cautioned.
She felt very at a disadvantage as she crept across the room's uneven floor. "You can see?" she asked.
"No," he said dryly. "But I've been stuck in here long enough to figure out the floor plan."
"Shouldn't there be a light?"
"The door should open too."
She stumbled and fell against him. The force loosened her towel and in the dark, his hands seemed to find everything but her towel. It was his turn to apologize.
"It's fine," she said as she secured the towel under her arms again.
"The bench is right here." He guided her to sit on what felt like a stone outcropping. "And it's as far from the hot rocks as we can get."
She fought her panic again. "Won't we die in this heat?"
"There's cool water here." He took her hand again, the soft palm guiding her fingers to a trickle of delightfully ice-cold water coming from the cave wall. Cupping her hands, she doused her flaming face.
"Thank you," she murmured.
"Bill."
"I'm sorry?" she asked, wondering if he was asking for a tip.
"I'm Bill."
"Oh, Laura."
"Good to meet you." His rumbling voice sounded as though he had leaned back against the wall.
"My friends are expecting me. Hopefully they'll search for me?"
"Are they Capricans too?"
"How did you know I was a Caprican?"
His chuckle had the same raspy quality as his voice and made the hairs on her arms stand on end, even in the stifling heat.
"Are you a Tauron?" she asked, deciding to make conversation.
"In a manner of speaking. My Tsattie would say I'm a Caprican."
"Your grandmother?" she said, proud of what she'd picked up from the language guide during the flight to the colony.
He deflated her pride. "You're one of those teachers who's swarming all over, aren't you?" His amused tone belied his aggressive words.
"Yes," she said stiffly. "How could you tell?"
"Not many Capricans have much interest in dirt eater 'culture'."
"Taurons aren't dirt eaters," she protested.
"Been to the cultural sensitivity class, huh?"
"You've got a chip on your shoulder," she retorted, then suddenly had a flash of feeling the bone and muscle of his strong shoulder under her seeking hand.
"Maybe," he admitted.
"Are you a teacher too? You seem to know a lot about the symposium," she retorted.
His warm chuckle made her stomach waver this time. "Nope. Staying in the same hotel."
"So you're a visitor to the planet," she said smugly, bringing cold water to pour between her breasts. He'd been at the hotel...She wondered which of the men who'd caught her eye he was. He didn't seem to be that much taller than her, he was muscular and stocky...She would have remembered if that voice had spoken to her...She knew nothing more.
"Yeah, I'm a visitor." There was no humor in his voice this time.
"I'm sorry--" She could tell there was a painful story behind his tone.
"I thought it would be a good idea to come here and learn something about my roots. Kinda rootless these days--"
This time, when her hand went to the cool water, his fingers were already there. She started to murmur an apology, but wordlessly, his larger hands cupped water and found her shoulders in the dark to empty water over her neck.
"Thank you," she said breathlessly.
"No problem," he replied.
"Rootless?"
"Huh?"
"You said you were rootless," she probed.
"Got divorced," he said shortly.
"I'm sorry," she said for what felt like the hundredth time.
"Yeah, so am I. Don't like to break a vow."
"Is that part of Tauron culture?"
Exasperated, he asked, "Do Capricans get divorced at the drop of a hat?"
"No, but you made it sound like a matter of honor, rather than a personal matter between the two of you. I wouldn't want to be divorced either, but I wouldn't want to be miserable."
"Who said I was miserable?" he protested hotly.
She stifled her apology and a few other choice remarks.
"But I guess she was," he said dejectedly.
"You can't make someone miserable unless they allow you to."
"So you're not married?" The laughter was back in his voice and she giggled.
"No, Bill, I'm not."
The air, so heavy and oppressive, suddenly felt crackling and dry. With shaking hands, she scooped the cool water to her mouth.
"I'm surprised," he said.
"You know nothing about me!" She wiped the sweat from her face with her already damp towel.
"I know you're a beautiful woman."
She giggled again. "All cats are grey in the dark, you know."
"Your hair isn't gray," he said definitely.
Leaning back too, she felt bold. "I'm a blonde."
"Really," he rasped. "Don't sound like a blonde."
"What does a blonde sound like?" she asked tartly, twining one of her curls around her finger; her hair was frizzing like crazy.
"Not gonna walk into that one."
She snorted another laugh. Smart man.
"No, you're beautiful," he said, suddenly sounding very close. "You have a beautiful mind; open and curious. You have a beautiful voice--warm. And you gotta cute laugh."
For the first time since she'd entered the sauna, Laura head went light. "Thanks," she stuttered.
Something felt very elemental about this experience. A man--a strong, muscled man; a woman--heated and close to liquid; a cave--dark and nurturing.
She reached for the water again and his hand was waiting. Their fingers twined in the dark. Her skittering fingers followed the strong, deep life line up his soft palm to find a racing pulse at his thick wrist. His broad thumb stroked along the veins and tendons standing boldly on the back of her hand.
Ever since her family's death, Laura had been making some very poor choices in her personal life. She was rejecting nice men out of hand, and had had one night stands that later frightened her when she considered the risks she'd taken. This complete stranger in dark, with his soft, sleek skin over hard muscle and tough bone, his rich, husky voice, was making her more aroused than she'd been in years. She should be frightened. But it felt so right as his hand traveled up her arm, skimmed across her collarbone and cradled her jaw.
"Laura--"
Her flailing hand found his shoulder and squeezed it hard--a signal.
Still, they had trouble finding each other in the dark. His lips skimmed her damp cheek, then tracked back toward her mouth. She shifted forward too soon, and their noses mashed together. When she tried again, she bit his stubbled chin. Their mouths finally made contact and she had the shock of feeling the brush of a mustache across her upper lip before his tongue sought hers.
She expected--wanted--him to be aggressive and brutal. Instead, his kisses were slow and drugging, making her sink deeper and deeper under the weight of water. Her limbs became boneless; her hand slid down his chest to clutch his towel in her fist. Something moved against her hand...For a long moment, she resisted the urge, sanity blaring a warning horn in her mind.
Then she moved the towel.
He gasped against her mouth and her hand froze. When he opened his legs wider, she took that as an invitation.
Suddenly nimble, her fingers sought and found their target. Now it was her turn to gasp. She weighed it in her palm, she stroked down the length, she thumbed the head...
"Oh frak, Laura--" he groaned against her cheek, fighting for air. Now she was frightened; it was the reverence in his tone.
Before she could change her mind, though, his big hands found her breasts as her towel fell to her lap. With excruciating slowness, he explored them, discovering how responsive her nipples were to his caresses. His head dipped blindly, his mouth seeking to join his touch.
Laura's sweaty palm slipped free from his length as he lifted her bodily onto his lap, opening her body to him. His hand swirled down her stomach, traveling toward the junction of her thighs.
When he heard her whimper, he asked, "Yes?" breathlessly.
"Yes," she mouthed around his lower lip she had trapped in her teeth. When she widened her legs to give him better access, she pressed his cock to his belly. Foggily, she decided they were going about this all wrong. She needed to be astride him--she started to struggle...
"Gods, I'm sorry." That sexy voice now sounded so contrite, the big strong hands were gone, the mouth was away from her hot skin.
She hissed with frustration. Kneeling on the seating, she managed to grab a handful of his thick hair and pull him back into another kiss. He caught back up quickly, his hands at her waist, tugging her to him. She smiled against his lips and wiggled forward--
The hatch creaked open a crack. "Laura?" called in Anna, the other representative from the Adar administration.
Bill and Laura leapt apart. She scrambled for her towel and found his instead. "Yes, Anna!"
Bill melted back into the dark cave.
Laura hurried to the door, grateful that her arousal wasn't as obvious as his. She had a legitimate reason to be flushed and sweating.
She pushed Ana out the door before her friend could look around. "Here, let's leave this door open so the next person knows it's free," she said loudly.
"Laura, the shuttle leaves for Caprica in an hour. Where have you been?" scolded Ana.
Leading her away from the cave, Laura apologized. "Yes, it is time to get back to our world," she said definitely, not looking behind her. Free from the dark, moist sauna, she became chilled and filled with fear that Bill would follow. What had just happened had been her final, riskiest encounter; from now on, she'd find something safe.
The end~