Battlestar/Resident Evil Crossover Fic: "Clean Enough" (Starbuck/Alice, R)
Because nothing gets me hotter than the thought of two of my girlcrushes together.
Unless they also happen to be fighting zombies. Then that's pretty good too. (Baby's first femslash.)
Title: Clean Enough
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica/Resident Evil: Extinction
Genre: Crossover, Femslash, PWP
Pairing: Starbuck/Alice
Rating: R for swearing, implied violence, plot thrown together for the sake of porn
Length: 1,375 words
Summary: "When we get out of here...I'm gonna get laid." "Yeah? You might wanna clean up a little, first." (Rain and Matt, Resident Evil)
“Any more of them out there?”
“Nope.”
“Too bad.” Her companion twirls her fingers in the air, eyes half-lidded with complacent boredom. “I could use a little excitement.”
“Yeah, well, they wouldn’t be yours anyway.” She lets the blinds drop, turning away from the window all cocky and snide. “You had your fun already, taking out most of the last bunch. It’s my turn.”
The other woman’s eyes close as she smirks; open again in a flash of iridescent green-blue. “I seem to recall you getting off plenty of shots.”
She snorts: “A few.” Paces further away from the window, hands on her hips. “Nothing compared to what you can pull with those knives of yours.”
The only response she gets is a careless shrug. Rolling her eyes, she sits on the desk, lights up a cigarette in the silence. Her thoughts wander, grow more serious.
“There used to be a whole world out there, huh?” She stares out the window. All she can see through the slits is darkness, but she knows what’s out there: devastation, a whole lot of nothing. And them. “Normal people, going about their lives and everything?”
“Pretty much,” the other woman says, deadpan. “I don’t remember it very well.”
She smirks a little. “Yeah. You’ve told me.”
The others had wanted to turn back, let the Fleet know they’d found their destination at last. But she wanted to stay and help with the clean-up, and she was in charge. Wouldn’t do to get to the Promised Land only to have most of them probably eaten by monsters, was her thinking.
That was three months ago.
“I really don’t think we’ll see any more of them tonight,” she says. “Seems like there’s less and less every week.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing,” the other observes. But she takes her feet off the desk, stands up. And smiles.
“Well. There’s always other ways to pass the time.”
She stands up too, her breath hitching a little. She tries not to let it show; play it off with her usual bravado.
“We haven’t exhausted all of our resources yet,” she protests, playing dumb. Lets her eyes flutter a little and the corners of her lips pucker up as the other woman steps in closer. “We could always take Leoben out of the closet, tie him to the fence again.”
Her companion snorts. “I think your robot is getting pretty sulky over being used as bait.”
“He’s not my robot,” she retorts, not missing a beat. “And the only thing he’s pissed off about is not getting to watch us. The sick bastard.”
“Aren’t they all,” the other breathes.
She doesn’t say anything to that, just keeps looking ahead with her eyes wide.
(She has no idea what the Cylon is doing right now. It was still daylight when she made sure the door was locked and his cuffs secure. Probably he’s fallen asleep, dreaming of his toaster god or his streams or electric sheep. Or maybe he’s still awake, listening. He can go ahead and listen, for all she cares.)
They look at each other. The room is filled with the kind of silence that sends tingles up and down her skin. Electric.
“Hey, Alice.”
“Yeah?”
“What are you thinking about?”
She smiles at her, the smile that presses her lips together and narrows her eyes; the one she always makes before she leaps. The “you’re dead meat” smile.
“Guess.”
She doesn’t say anything back. Just stands there still and makes a big show of blinking her eyes, once.
Her cigarette is perched between two fingers to one side, and Alice purses her lips to blow a deliberate slow, audible puff of air in its direction. The ember flickers and fades, the smoke dispersing up in a little cloud of ash before disappearing. There’s no way Alice’s breath packed enough strength to blow it out but it doesn’t matter. They both know she used her mind.
She knows she should probably be scared shitless of Alice, with all the things she’s seen her do, the things she knows she’s capable of. But she doesn’t feel the slightest bit of fear, looking at her. All she feels is anticipation.
“You gonna stand there all night or what?” she drawls sassily. Daring.
Alice rises to the challenge. She moves in so there’s less than an inch between them and holds her firmly by the hips. Her fingers dig in just enough, just the way she likes it.
She sucks in a little breath and lets her cigarette fall to the floor. Grinds it beneath the toe of her boot. She’s got one hand on Alice’s bicep, the other curled across her collarbone. She thinks about it, then moves that hand so it’s on top of one of Alice’s tits, her thumb right over the already hard nipple.
Alice bites her lip, baring her teeth. She slides one hand up from her hip, over ribs and brushing against one breast just hard enough to be copping a feel before stopping on her neck. She tugs on an earlobe, almost careless, and then her other hand moves to the front of her pants.
She fingers her hard enough through the layers to be more than a tease, and Kara presses down with that one thumb to say thanks.
“Hey, Kara.”
Her eyes have closed and she can’t quite get them to flutter open again. “Yeah?”
“When we do this, do you ever think about your husband?” Just enough of a pause there, curiosity mixed with hesitation, some detached guilt. She knows Alice enough not to let it worry her, or piss her off.
“Are you kidding?” she cracks, dismissive: “Sam’s probably racking up with his own version of you as we speak.” Alice smiles that funny smile of hers.
(That was the one thing that made her suspicious of Alice, when they first got here. No way was she willing to trust what had to be another Cylon. But once they had that sorted, the rest was nothing.)
“You really think I’m that hot, huh?” Alice says.
Kara hisses at her. “Quit frakking around.”
Alice’s eyebrow goes up (she still thinks that word is a joke), but she deftly pulls Kara’s fly open, gets her waistband down, and she feels the heat of Alice’s palm, and then her fingers are against her, up inside.
“Gods, yeah.” Her words come out in rasps. “Finally. Go on, like that.”
She feels Alice cupping her and her fingers stroking her clit and her other fingers pressing harder inside, and she’s wet already. She has her teeth clenched even as Alice is biting her lips, fingers twisting and working all the while. Alice’s breasts are soft in her one hand and her red-gold hair is tangled between the fingers of the other.
Her breath starts to come heavy, in shaky gasps, and Kara smirks a little. Then Alice grinds up against her through those tight shorts and squeezes with her whole hand. Kara shuts her eyes and can’t help tilting her head back, mouth parting with a little moan.
There’s another moan. But it doesn’t come from either of them. It’s deeper, more guttural, and comes from outside.
The two of them come down reluctantly, slowing their movements even as they both gasp for air.
“Aw, hell.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Alice mutters. They turn in the direction of the door, listening.
There’s more moaning, the distinct shuffling sound made by limp broken limbs. A lot of them, from the noise. And getting closer.
“Well.” Alice slips her hand out, frowning. “Guess that’s that.” Kara rolls her eyes, scowling as she zips herself up.
Alice faces the door. Her eyes set resolutely, and she doesn’t bother wiping her hand before pulling her knives out, giving a few practice swings through the air.
“Guess we didn’t need bait after all.”
“Yeah.”
She hefts her gun up, checking the ammo. The clip slides home with a satisfying sound. She moves forward, facing out.
Outside the things have gotten closer. They’re howling now, groaning, banging on the door.
She nods to Alice. Alice nods back.
“Okay.” Kara’s mouth curls a little, and her eyes narrow. “Let’s do this.”
Unless they also happen to be fighting zombies. Then that's pretty good too. (Baby's first femslash.)
Title: Clean Enough
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica/Resident Evil: Extinction
Genre: Crossover, Femslash, PWP
Pairing: Starbuck/Alice
Rating: R for swearing, implied violence, plot thrown together for the sake of porn
Length: 1,375 words
Summary: "When we get out of here...I'm gonna get laid." "Yeah? You might wanna clean up a little, first." (Rain and Matt, Resident Evil)
“Any more of them out there?”
“Nope.”
“Too bad.” Her companion twirls her fingers in the air, eyes half-lidded with complacent boredom. “I could use a little excitement.”
“Yeah, well, they wouldn’t be yours anyway.” She lets the blinds drop, turning away from the window all cocky and snide. “You had your fun already, taking out most of the last bunch. It’s my turn.”
The other woman’s eyes close as she smirks; open again in a flash of iridescent green-blue. “I seem to recall you getting off plenty of shots.”
She snorts: “A few.” Paces further away from the window, hands on her hips. “Nothing compared to what you can pull with those knives of yours.”
The only response she gets is a careless shrug. Rolling her eyes, she sits on the desk, lights up a cigarette in the silence. Her thoughts wander, grow more serious.
“There used to be a whole world out there, huh?” She stares out the window. All she can see through the slits is darkness, but she knows what’s out there: devastation, a whole lot of nothing. And them. “Normal people, going about their lives and everything?”
“Pretty much,” the other woman says, deadpan. “I don’t remember it very well.”
She smirks a little. “Yeah. You’ve told me.”
The others had wanted to turn back, let the Fleet know they’d found their destination at last. But she wanted to stay and help with the clean-up, and she was in charge. Wouldn’t do to get to the Promised Land only to have most of them probably eaten by monsters, was her thinking.
That was three months ago.
“I really don’t think we’ll see any more of them tonight,” she says. “Seems like there’s less and less every week.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing,” the other observes. But she takes her feet off the desk, stands up. And smiles.
“Well. There’s always other ways to pass the time.”
She stands up too, her breath hitching a little. She tries not to let it show; play it off with her usual bravado.
“We haven’t exhausted all of our resources yet,” she protests, playing dumb. Lets her eyes flutter a little and the corners of her lips pucker up as the other woman steps in closer. “We could always take Leoben out of the closet, tie him to the fence again.”
Her companion snorts. “I think your robot is getting pretty sulky over being used as bait.”
“He’s not my robot,” she retorts, not missing a beat. “And the only thing he’s pissed off about is not getting to watch us. The sick bastard.”
“Aren’t they all,” the other breathes.
She doesn’t say anything to that, just keeps looking ahead with her eyes wide.
(She has no idea what the Cylon is doing right now. It was still daylight when she made sure the door was locked and his cuffs secure. Probably he’s fallen asleep, dreaming of his toaster god or his streams or electric sheep. Or maybe he’s still awake, listening. He can go ahead and listen, for all she cares.)
They look at each other. The room is filled with the kind of silence that sends tingles up and down her skin. Electric.
“Hey, Alice.”
“Yeah?”
“What are you thinking about?”
She smiles at her, the smile that presses her lips together and narrows her eyes; the one she always makes before she leaps. The “you’re dead meat” smile.
“Guess.”
She doesn’t say anything back. Just stands there still and makes a big show of blinking her eyes, once.
Her cigarette is perched between two fingers to one side, and Alice purses her lips to blow a deliberate slow, audible puff of air in its direction. The ember flickers and fades, the smoke dispersing up in a little cloud of ash before disappearing. There’s no way Alice’s breath packed enough strength to blow it out but it doesn’t matter. They both know she used her mind.
She knows she should probably be scared shitless of Alice, with all the things she’s seen her do, the things she knows she’s capable of. But she doesn’t feel the slightest bit of fear, looking at her. All she feels is anticipation.
“You gonna stand there all night or what?” she drawls sassily. Daring.
Alice rises to the challenge. She moves in so there’s less than an inch between them and holds her firmly by the hips. Her fingers dig in just enough, just the way she likes it.
She sucks in a little breath and lets her cigarette fall to the floor. Grinds it beneath the toe of her boot. She’s got one hand on Alice’s bicep, the other curled across her collarbone. She thinks about it, then moves that hand so it’s on top of one of Alice’s tits, her thumb right over the already hard nipple.
Alice bites her lip, baring her teeth. She slides one hand up from her hip, over ribs and brushing against one breast just hard enough to be copping a feel before stopping on her neck. She tugs on an earlobe, almost careless, and then her other hand moves to the front of her pants.
She fingers her hard enough through the layers to be more than a tease, and Kara presses down with that one thumb to say thanks.
“Hey, Kara.”
Her eyes have closed and she can’t quite get them to flutter open again. “Yeah?”
“When we do this, do you ever think about your husband?” Just enough of a pause there, curiosity mixed with hesitation, some detached guilt. She knows Alice enough not to let it worry her, or piss her off.
“Are you kidding?” she cracks, dismissive: “Sam’s probably racking up with his own version of you as we speak.” Alice smiles that funny smile of hers.
(That was the one thing that made her suspicious of Alice, when they first got here. No way was she willing to trust what had to be another Cylon. But once they had that sorted, the rest was nothing.)
“You really think I’m that hot, huh?” Alice says.
Kara hisses at her. “Quit frakking around.”
Alice’s eyebrow goes up (she still thinks that word is a joke), but she deftly pulls Kara’s fly open, gets her waistband down, and she feels the heat of Alice’s palm, and then her fingers are against her, up inside.
“Gods, yeah.” Her words come out in rasps. “Finally. Go on, like that.”
She feels Alice cupping her and her fingers stroking her clit and her other fingers pressing harder inside, and she’s wet already. She has her teeth clenched even as Alice is biting her lips, fingers twisting and working all the while. Alice’s breasts are soft in her one hand and her red-gold hair is tangled between the fingers of the other.
Her breath starts to come heavy, in shaky gasps, and Kara smirks a little. Then Alice grinds up against her through those tight shorts and squeezes with her whole hand. Kara shuts her eyes and can’t help tilting her head back, mouth parting with a little moan.
There’s another moan. But it doesn’t come from either of them. It’s deeper, more guttural, and comes from outside.
The two of them come down reluctantly, slowing their movements even as they both gasp for air.
“Aw, hell.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Alice mutters. They turn in the direction of the door, listening.
There’s more moaning, the distinct shuffling sound made by limp broken limbs. A lot of them, from the noise. And getting closer.
“Well.” Alice slips her hand out, frowning. “Guess that’s that.” Kara rolls her eyes, scowling as she zips herself up.
Alice faces the door. Her eyes set resolutely, and she doesn’t bother wiping her hand before pulling her knives out, giving a few practice swings through the air.
“Guess we didn’t need bait after all.”
“Yeah.”
She hefts her gun up, checking the ammo. The clip slides home with a satisfying sound. She moves forward, facing out.
Outside the things have gotten closer. They’re howling now, groaning, banging on the door.
She nods to Alice. Alice nods back.
“Okay.” Kara’s mouth curls a little, and her eyes narrow. “Let’s do this.”