FIC: Back At One (2/2)
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Chapter Two:
Adama was having that dream again, that one where Laura was there, safe, in his rack, kissing his chest, her tongue tracing his scar. The one where her fingers combed through his pubic hair to grasp his awaking erection firmly, a lot more tightly than he ever guessed those slender hands could grip. He bucked up, murmuring her name.
In his ear, breathed, “Yes, Bill, I’m here.”
He gasped in despair, slowly rising from sleep, but not wanting the dream to end. But it didn’t end, instead, her tongue plundered the depths of his mouth, her teeth nipped at his lower lip, her thrumming breath was against his cheek.
He filled his arms with her soft, warm body as she straddled him. Half-heartedly, he protested, even as he pushed his boxers off, “Laura, you need to rest--“
“I am resting, right here--“ She slid down onto his cock and his good intentions were lost. Frantically, his hand flailed for his bedside light and he finally got it on. Her grin greeted him as she ground against him, her hands smoothing across his pectoral muscles.
He wedged the pillows behind his back so that he could sit up and enjoy the view, then filled his palms with her breasts, their warm weight heavy with desire. She leaned into the cradle of his upraised knees, pulling his penis back just far enough to gain a grunt from him. She smiled and murmured something he couldn’t catch.
“What?” he gasped, sliding his hands down to her waist, his thumbs stroking along the center line of her abdomen.
“I said, I never want this to end.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. Their bodies had stilled and he wondered how long he could maintain his erection; could they simply stay this way forever? She couldn’t be lost if she were always here, connected.
He chuckled at this crazy image, and it was her turn to ask, “What?”
He decided not to tell her what he’d been thinking. “You’re welcome,” he said, his hands returning to her breasts, his thumbs rubbing around her areolas in unison, tightening her nipples. He pursed his lips; too far away for his watering mouth.
Reading his mind, she tipped forward, allowing him to latch on. “I haven’t finished thanking you,” she said, holding his head to her breast.
His eyelids snapped open from their lazy half-mast position when she squeezed her Kegel muscles around him as though she wanted to hold him fast forever too.
She pulled his head up to kiss him gently, then suddenly deeper and deeper into his mouth, pushing his heart rate skyward. He wanted to just pound into her and tried to flip her under him.
“No,” she insisted, holding him down with her light hands.
His brow furrowed in concern, but she tossed her head back and began to ride him in earnest, too hard and fast, her eyelids shut, hiding something from him.
He understood though. He remembered these times, returning from long stints in space, trying to reform from one to two in bed with Carolanne. The distance always took a while to bridge, bodies unfamiliar, rhythms ragged. He slowed Laura’s tempo with his hands on her waist, bringing his hips up to meet her downbeat.
“It’s okay, baby,” he crooned, as he would gentle a bird with a broken wing, sliding his mouth gently across her features, from high cheekbones, to fragile temple, to the mole near the corner of her set mouth. “It’ll be fine,” he promised her.
She only hummed in reply, anxious, but her eyes finally opened, and the sadness there frightened him. “What?” he whispered. She just shook her head and buried her face in his neck, beginning to suckle, a constant, steady sound, like listening to his sons feed at their mother’s breast.
He gently pried her loose, bringing her face to face. He knew what would make her happy, and one hand slid down between their bodies. He always enjoyed watching her approaching orgasm, the way pleasure removed every line and crease, the way her eyes glistened with close tears, but tonight there was something more, an inner light. He went breathless at her beauty, watching the exhaustion and worry slide from her brow--perhaps that was it; the burden to be removed had been heavier than ever before.
He murmured, “So lovely,” as his free hand wandered from her shoulder, along her back, to stroke her neck, pushing back her hair.
Feeling his own heat coiling low in his groin, he started to say, “Love y--“
She covered his mouth with a shaking hand and pleaded in his ear, “Don’t say it,” before kissing him deeply as they came, their cries stifled off and contained. She released his mouth and as her face slid along his cheek to settle in the crook of his neck, she left a trail of tears.
He listened to his clock ticking and their steadying breaths. She was still on top of him, now draped loose across his chest, kissing his skin absentmindedly. “I don’t want to get up,” she mumbled.
“Don’t,” he said.
She started to struggle out of his arms. “I’ve got to go back to my quarters.”
He held her fast, feeling her muscles resist. “Why?”
She met his gaze with her own level one. “That was all we get.”
“What the frak?” he roared, causing her to struggle in his arms. He sure as hell wasn’t letting her go now. He locked his hands behind her back. She had been leaving him; his sense wasn’t off.
“I assumed you were thinking the same thing; we can’t be together,” she said, not fighting anymore.
“Why not?”
“I’ve got a lot of work to do; you’ve got a lot of work to do. I’ve got to try to find a way to call for elections and get Zarek the hell out of the presidency.”
He relaxed. That was all. “Of course. I’ll take care of that tomorrow. I’ve asked him to come here for a chat.”
He’d released her and Laura rolled off of him, leaning against the bulkhead. “What do you mean?” she asked.
Adama said, “I’m not going to allow him to retain the office.”
Her face was conflicted; she started to speak.
He pressed on, “I followed the rule of law once, went against your judgment, and it got us this cluster frak that was New Caprica. I won’t make that mistake again with a man even more dangerous than Baltar. Even if you didn’t want the office, I would find someone who did.”
“I do want the presidency, but I don’t want impropriety.”
“Frak that. Saving humanity is what matters,” he reminded her.
She nodded in agreement. “All right. Then this was hello and goodbye.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, combing back his long hair in frustration.
She pointed out, “It look bad enough as it is.”
He hissed, “What looks bad?”
Laura flapped her hands at her nudity, at his. Then she told him, “You know it. I’m just saying it aloud.”
“There’s got to be some way that we can be together and still do our jobs,” he said.
“No. It’s more than people gossiping. I can’t feel this way about you and do my job. Neither can you.” Her steady gaze demanded the truth from him. “How did it feel up here, knowing I was down there under the Cylons?”
She saw something flicker across his eyes, and she kept pushing. “Why did you come back to New Caprica? That risk could have cost us everything; could have wiped out humanity.”
“Lee threw your words back at me when I made the rescue plan.”
“And yet here you are.”
Bill tried to defend himself: “I did leave the fleet with Pegasus behind; they would have survived even if Galactica was lost,” but admitted, “I couldn’t leave the humans on New Caprica...and yes, you. And Lee couldn’t leave me. Some survival instinct this last bit of humanity has.”
She nodded, taking up his hand to lace their fingers together. She barely whispered. “It nearly killed me not knowing what had happened to you when the Cylons returned. I can’t be feeling that all the time.”
“We can’t put the string back inside the pyramid ball,” he said. “I won’t stop loving you just because you’re president again.” He pulled her hand to his mouth for a kiss, turning it so the palm was at his lips. “It didn’t stop me from falling in love with you in the first place.”
She smiled sadly and said, “Go ahead and love me. That’s inside. That’s not me coming out of your quarters at six in the morning, or a journalist noticing one of your socks on my couch.”
His frustration rushed back. “Who the frak cares who fraks who, as long as we’re not doing it in the corridors and scaring the nuggets?”
“Don’t be obtuse. It will be used against us, and then we won’t be able to get anything accomplished,” she said, slipping over him and off his rack. “The President is literally in bed with the Admiral--“
Seeing her getting away, he kept arguing. “It didn’t matter if we’re together physically or not; everyone sees how close we are, how we work together. We can’t go back to some neutral position.“
Finding his robe, she slipped it on. “It will matter. It’s one thing to talk about our closeness, it’s another thing to see it.” She couldn’t meet his eyes.
Swinging his legs down from the rack, Bill groped in the bedding for his boxers. “And politics is all about appearances, right?”
“Don’t you have fraternization regulations in the military?” she asked, hands on her hips.
He stood, his dignity covered, and crossed his arms tightly. “So you don’t want to be with me?” he said, chin up.
She turned away to find some clothes in her bag. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Yes you are.”
Her soft voice, close to tears, told him, “That’s what you’re hearing,” as she pushed past him into the head with her clothes.
When she came out, he was on the couch, arms still crossed. He watched her pick up her bag.
Without looking at him, she said, “It’s complicated--“
“No it’s not,” he said, staring at his bare feet propped on the chest.
When he heard the door clank shut, he went to the head, snagging some fresh tanks and his tunic on the way. It was time to shave off his mustache; he had to return to duty, just like her.
Outside, the waiting guard said, “Ma’am, allow me to escort you,” and she murmured thanks, falling into step behind him.
They passed through the memorial walls--she must have been nearly unconscious going to Adama’s cabin; she had no memory of this route. Dozens of citizens and crew were clustered at the wall, beginning the grim task of adding more photographs and memorials. She’d have to return, and see how lost souls that she had known.
Even this early in the morning, the corridors were busy. Repairs had to be made, quarters straightened out, belongings found. Many familiar faces swarmed past as Roslin followed the sentry. Most smiled at her, relief in their expressions.
A woman who Laura remembered as a medic in the Life Station stopped her long enough to say, “I’m so glad to see that you survived; now everything will be okay.” Laura could only smile tightly in reply, bowing her head to her duty.
Slipping into the guest quarters, she saw that sure enough, Tory was still dead asleep. Laura fumbled into the other empty rack, but couldn’t sleep, staring into her lonely personal future, dark as the room.
But tomorrow the work would begin again. She’d situate Maya and the baby safely, and begin to consolidate her political base. If Adama couldn’t persuade Zarek to move aside--he would want something, she needed to decide if the cost was cheap enough--she would need to find that loophole in the Constitution to force early elections...and try to figure out how she could look at Admiral Adama with dispassion at their next meeting.
As she had stood in the doorway of Colonial One, the ship vibrating from the engines springing to life, she’d looked down over the ruins of New Caprica. Seeing the smoke rising from the detention center, she knew her confession was going up in flames, that those words would soon be buried in the rubble.
Turning to the bulkhead, her hand pressing against its impassionate cold weight, she whispered, “As it should be. Gone and buried.”
In the inky darkness, a familiar low voice muttered in her ear, reminding her that this was all for the best. Intimacy led to pain; just look at the agony of the last four months. Things would certainly get no better from here on with the Cylons still in pursuit; anything could happen to Adama. Alone was a familiar, comfortable haven, and it welcomed her home.
The end
Chapter Two:
Adama was having that dream again, that one where Laura was there, safe, in his rack, kissing his chest, her tongue tracing his scar. The one where her fingers combed through his pubic hair to grasp his awaking erection firmly, a lot more tightly than he ever guessed those slender hands could grip. He bucked up, murmuring her name.
In his ear, breathed, “Yes, Bill, I’m here.”
He gasped in despair, slowly rising from sleep, but not wanting the dream to end. But it didn’t end, instead, her tongue plundered the depths of his mouth, her teeth nipped at his lower lip, her thrumming breath was against his cheek.
He filled his arms with her soft, warm body as she straddled him. Half-heartedly, he protested, even as he pushed his boxers off, “Laura, you need to rest--“
“I am resting, right here--“ She slid down onto his cock and his good intentions were lost. Frantically, his hand flailed for his bedside light and he finally got it on. Her grin greeted him as she ground against him, her hands smoothing across his pectoral muscles.
He wedged the pillows behind his back so that he could sit up and enjoy the view, then filled his palms with her breasts, their warm weight heavy with desire. She leaned into the cradle of his upraised knees, pulling his penis back just far enough to gain a grunt from him. She smiled and murmured something he couldn’t catch.
“What?” he gasped, sliding his hands down to her waist, his thumbs stroking along the center line of her abdomen.
“I said, I never want this to end.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. Their bodies had stilled and he wondered how long he could maintain his erection; could they simply stay this way forever? She couldn’t be lost if she were always here, connected.
He chuckled at this crazy image, and it was her turn to ask, “What?”
He decided not to tell her what he’d been thinking. “You’re welcome,” he said, his hands returning to her breasts, his thumbs rubbing around her areolas in unison, tightening her nipples. He pursed his lips; too far away for his watering mouth.
Reading his mind, she tipped forward, allowing him to latch on. “I haven’t finished thanking you,” she said, holding his head to her breast.
His eyelids snapped open from their lazy half-mast position when she squeezed her Kegel muscles around him as though she wanted to hold him fast forever too.
She pulled his head up to kiss him gently, then suddenly deeper and deeper into his mouth, pushing his heart rate skyward. He wanted to just pound into her and tried to flip her under him.
“No,” she insisted, holding him down with her light hands.
His brow furrowed in concern, but she tossed her head back and began to ride him in earnest, too hard and fast, her eyelids shut, hiding something from him.
He understood though. He remembered these times, returning from long stints in space, trying to reform from one to two in bed with Carolanne. The distance always took a while to bridge, bodies unfamiliar, rhythms ragged. He slowed Laura’s tempo with his hands on her waist, bringing his hips up to meet her downbeat.
“It’s okay, baby,” he crooned, as he would gentle a bird with a broken wing, sliding his mouth gently across her features, from high cheekbones, to fragile temple, to the mole near the corner of her set mouth. “It’ll be fine,” he promised her.
She only hummed in reply, anxious, but her eyes finally opened, and the sadness there frightened him. “What?” he whispered. She just shook her head and buried her face in his neck, beginning to suckle, a constant, steady sound, like listening to his sons feed at their mother’s breast.
He gently pried her loose, bringing her face to face. He knew what would make her happy, and one hand slid down between their bodies. He always enjoyed watching her approaching orgasm, the way pleasure removed every line and crease, the way her eyes glistened with close tears, but tonight there was something more, an inner light. He went breathless at her beauty, watching the exhaustion and worry slide from her brow--perhaps that was it; the burden to be removed had been heavier than ever before.
He murmured, “So lovely,” as his free hand wandered from her shoulder, along her back, to stroke her neck, pushing back her hair.
Feeling his own heat coiling low in his groin, he started to say, “Love y--“
She covered his mouth with a shaking hand and pleaded in his ear, “Don’t say it,” before kissing him deeply as they came, their cries stifled off and contained. She released his mouth and as her face slid along his cheek to settle in the crook of his neck, she left a trail of tears.
He listened to his clock ticking and their steadying breaths. She was still on top of him, now draped loose across his chest, kissing his skin absentmindedly. “I don’t want to get up,” she mumbled.
“Don’t,” he said.
She started to struggle out of his arms. “I’ve got to go back to my quarters.”
He held her fast, feeling her muscles resist. “Why?”
She met his gaze with her own level one. “That was all we get.”
“What the frak?” he roared, causing her to struggle in his arms. He sure as hell wasn’t letting her go now. He locked his hands behind her back. She had been leaving him; his sense wasn’t off.
“I assumed you were thinking the same thing; we can’t be together,” she said, not fighting anymore.
“Why not?”
“I’ve got a lot of work to do; you’ve got a lot of work to do. I’ve got to try to find a way to call for elections and get Zarek the hell out of the presidency.”
He relaxed. That was all. “Of course. I’ll take care of that tomorrow. I’ve asked him to come here for a chat.”
He’d released her and Laura rolled off of him, leaning against the bulkhead. “What do you mean?” she asked.
Adama said, “I’m not going to allow him to retain the office.”
Her face was conflicted; she started to speak.
He pressed on, “I followed the rule of law once, went against your judgment, and it got us this cluster frak that was New Caprica. I won’t make that mistake again with a man even more dangerous than Baltar. Even if you didn’t want the office, I would find someone who did.”
“I do want the presidency, but I don’t want impropriety.”
“Frak that. Saving humanity is what matters,” he reminded her.
She nodded in agreement. “All right. Then this was hello and goodbye.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, combing back his long hair in frustration.
She pointed out, “It look bad enough as it is.”
He hissed, “What looks bad?”
Laura flapped her hands at her nudity, at his. Then she told him, “You know it. I’m just saying it aloud.”
“There’s got to be some way that we can be together and still do our jobs,” he said.
“No. It’s more than people gossiping. I can’t feel this way about you and do my job. Neither can you.” Her steady gaze demanded the truth from him. “How did it feel up here, knowing I was down there under the Cylons?”
She saw something flicker across his eyes, and she kept pushing. “Why did you come back to New Caprica? That risk could have cost us everything; could have wiped out humanity.”
“Lee threw your words back at me when I made the rescue plan.”
“And yet here you are.”
Bill tried to defend himself: “I did leave the fleet with Pegasus behind; they would have survived even if Galactica was lost,” but admitted, “I couldn’t leave the humans on New Caprica...and yes, you. And Lee couldn’t leave me. Some survival instinct this last bit of humanity has.”
She nodded, taking up his hand to lace their fingers together. She barely whispered. “It nearly killed me not knowing what had happened to you when the Cylons returned. I can’t be feeling that all the time.”
“We can’t put the string back inside the pyramid ball,” he said. “I won’t stop loving you just because you’re president again.” He pulled her hand to his mouth for a kiss, turning it so the palm was at his lips. “It didn’t stop me from falling in love with you in the first place.”
She smiled sadly and said, “Go ahead and love me. That’s inside. That’s not me coming out of your quarters at six in the morning, or a journalist noticing one of your socks on my couch.”
His frustration rushed back. “Who the frak cares who fraks who, as long as we’re not doing it in the corridors and scaring the nuggets?”
“Don’t be obtuse. It will be used against us, and then we won’t be able to get anything accomplished,” she said, slipping over him and off his rack. “The President is literally in bed with the Admiral--“
Seeing her getting away, he kept arguing. “It didn’t matter if we’re together physically or not; everyone sees how close we are, how we work together. We can’t go back to some neutral position.“
Finding his robe, she slipped it on. “It will matter. It’s one thing to talk about our closeness, it’s another thing to see it.” She couldn’t meet his eyes.
Swinging his legs down from the rack, Bill groped in the bedding for his boxers. “And politics is all about appearances, right?”
“Don’t you have fraternization regulations in the military?” she asked, hands on her hips.
He stood, his dignity covered, and crossed his arms tightly. “So you don’t want to be with me?” he said, chin up.
She turned away to find some clothes in her bag. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Yes you are.”
Her soft voice, close to tears, told him, “That’s what you’re hearing,” as she pushed past him into the head with her clothes.
When she came out, he was on the couch, arms still crossed. He watched her pick up her bag.
Without looking at him, she said, “It’s complicated--“
“No it’s not,” he said, staring at his bare feet propped on the chest.
When he heard the door clank shut, he went to the head, snagging some fresh tanks and his tunic on the way. It was time to shave off his mustache; he had to return to duty, just like her.
Outside, the waiting guard said, “Ma’am, allow me to escort you,” and she murmured thanks, falling into step behind him.
They passed through the memorial walls--she must have been nearly unconscious going to Adama’s cabin; she had no memory of this route. Dozens of citizens and crew were clustered at the wall, beginning the grim task of adding more photographs and memorials. She’d have to return, and see how lost souls that she had known.
Even this early in the morning, the corridors were busy. Repairs had to be made, quarters straightened out, belongings found. Many familiar faces swarmed past as Roslin followed the sentry. Most smiled at her, relief in their expressions.
A woman who Laura remembered as a medic in the Life Station stopped her long enough to say, “I’m so glad to see that you survived; now everything will be okay.” Laura could only smile tightly in reply, bowing her head to her duty.
Slipping into the guest quarters, she saw that sure enough, Tory was still dead asleep. Laura fumbled into the other empty rack, but couldn’t sleep, staring into her lonely personal future, dark as the room.
But tomorrow the work would begin again. She’d situate Maya and the baby safely, and begin to consolidate her political base. If Adama couldn’t persuade Zarek to move aside--he would want something, she needed to decide if the cost was cheap enough--she would need to find that loophole in the Constitution to force early elections...and try to figure out how she could look at Admiral Adama with dispassion at their next meeting.
As she had stood in the doorway of Colonial One, the ship vibrating from the engines springing to life, she’d looked down over the ruins of New Caprica. Seeing the smoke rising from the detention center, she knew her confession was going up in flames, that those words would soon be buried in the rubble.
Turning to the bulkhead, her hand pressing against its impassionate cold weight, she whispered, “As it should be. Gone and buried.”
In the inky darkness, a familiar low voice muttered in her ear, reminding her that this was all for the best. Intimacy led to pain; just look at the agony of the last four months. Things would certainly get no better from here on with the Cylons still in pursuit; anything could happen to Adama. Alone was a familiar, comfortable haven, and it welcomed her home.
The end