BSG Fic: Overall, Impressed (Billy, Laura, Adama/Roslin)
Title: Impressed
Rating: K
Characters: Laura Roslin, Billy Keikeya
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Summary: This is an admiring Billy, Laura scene directly following newnumbertwo's fabulous Dressed to Impress. A recently recovered Laura is dressed to the nines to seduce Bill. She runs into Billy first.
A/N: I'm so so late but this is a birthday gift fic for newnumbertwo, a writer whom I admire greatly, and whose work usually includes my beloved Billy in a respectful light. I'm sorry I was so sick on the real day but I hope you like your belated present!
What the frak is she wearing?
Billy was intimately familiar with the president’s wardrobe. After all, it consisted of just three outfits and making sure at least two were clean at all times had been on the long, unwritten list of bullet points under his also nonexistent job description since the attacks. Hell, he could probably add ‘Presidential Stylist’ to his resume if he ever needed one again; most days, she just slipped on whatever he left hanging in the bathroom.
He looked up from his paperwork to steal another surreptitious glance at his boss. Of course the white wrap top and black skirt were familiar. It wasn’t like she’d gone shopping in the middle of the night. No, it wasn’t the clothes, per se, that were different. It was the way she was wearing them that set off his internal alarm bells.
And the fact that she was humming. Standing to the side of her desk, stroking the skin on her chest where the fabric formed a ‘V’ absentmindedly, and humming.
He must have stared for a second too long because she stopped, looked up, and smiled at him sweetly.
“Billy, do you have the ration reports for the last few weeks? I need them for my meeting with Admiral Adama.”
His internal alarm system clicked up to the next level of readiness. Laura Roslin’s voice was always throaty but he’d never heard her growl before. Well, not in a good way. Actually, the way she said ‘Admiral Adama’ was more like a deep purr. He felt his cheeks start to grow hot.
He rifled through the organized chaos on his desk and, after a few moments, held up the requested file. The president leaned over to take it and he couldn’t help but notice how high her skirt rode up her legs. Much higher than the knee. Ok, almost halfway up her frakking thigh.
She caught him looking and her eyes lit up. She arched over the desk a little more, playfully exposing more leg, and he knew he must have looked appalled from the way she burst into giggles.
“Enjoying the view, Billy?”
He grimaced involuntarily and let out an extended “eeewww” before he could stop himself. The president returned her body to a less provocative position and frowned as she made an affronted noise.
“Really, Billy, have I taught you nothing about women? That’s certainly not what a girl wants to hear.”
A girl?
He shook his head to clear it but even a blow to the temple couldn’t have erased the unbidden reality that was starting to sink in. His beloved, recently recovered boss was headed to a meeting with the Admiral. In this mood. With her skirt pinned up like a tawdry Geminese school girl in a porno vid. Wearing the ‘sexy top.’
Frak.
He cleared his throat loudly and she arched an eyebrow like she was waiting for a fight. Absently, he thought about how he didn’t get paid enough for this and then sighed when he remembered he didn’t get paid at all.
“Madame President, if you’re going over there to do what I think, I mean…” He paused to rub his brow and compose himself. “I mean, would you like me to accompany you to Galactica, ma’am?”
To her credit, Laura Roslin was as cool as a cucumber. Had he not known her so well, he might have thought her mock glare was real.
“Goodness, Billy, are you saying you’d like to watch?”
He groaned and put his head in his hands. Definitely not paid enough to deal with this. He was on the verge of managing a semi-coherent response when he felt the president’s hand on his shoulder. When he finally looked up, all the bravado was gone and the questioning look in her eyes bordered on fearful.
“No, really, Billy. What do you think?” She glanced down at her outfit and back up again. When she spoke again she was almost pleading. “I’d like to know you...I mean, frak, you know what I mean.”
Not for the first time, Billy found himself feeling like the parent in this relationship. He sobered and pushed all the vivid thoughts of how and what out of his head. Without those images, he loved the idea of his friend finding love after all she’d been through. She deserved it and she deserved to know he thought so.
He reached up and rested his fingers on the ones that hadn’t left his shoulder.
“I think Bill Adama doesn’t stand a chance, Madame President.” He smiled up at her and was only a little surprised to see the look of relief that crossed her face. “He’s an idiot if he turns you down. Not the least because we’ll throw him out the airlock if he does.”
Her laughter filled the room and Billy found himself quickly enveloped in a perfumed hug, his face buried in the president’s neatly styled hair.
“Knock ‘em dead, Madame President,” he said when she’d straightened and pulled herself into her usual dignified stance. As she turned to go, he flashed on a memory of his father’s encouraging rebuke before his eldest sister’s first date with the man who'd end up her husband.
“I’ll be waiting here with a shotgun if he dares bring you home before midnight.”
Rating: K
Characters: Laura Roslin, Billy Keikeya
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Summary: This is an admiring Billy, Laura scene directly following newnumbertwo's fabulous Dressed to Impress. A recently recovered Laura is dressed to the nines to seduce Bill. She runs into Billy first.
A/N: I'm so so late but this is a birthday gift fic for newnumbertwo, a writer whom I admire greatly, and whose work usually includes my beloved Billy in a respectful light. I'm sorry I was so sick on the real day but I hope you like your belated present!
What the frak is she wearing?
Billy was intimately familiar with the president’s wardrobe. After all, it consisted of just three outfits and making sure at least two were clean at all times had been on the long, unwritten list of bullet points under his also nonexistent job description since the attacks. Hell, he could probably add ‘Presidential Stylist’ to his resume if he ever needed one again; most days, she just slipped on whatever he left hanging in the bathroom.
He looked up from his paperwork to steal another surreptitious glance at his boss. Of course the white wrap top and black skirt were familiar. It wasn’t like she’d gone shopping in the middle of the night. No, it wasn’t the clothes, per se, that were different. It was the way she was wearing them that set off his internal alarm bells.
And the fact that she was humming. Standing to the side of her desk, stroking the skin on her chest where the fabric formed a ‘V’ absentmindedly, and humming.
He must have stared for a second too long because she stopped, looked up, and smiled at him sweetly.
“Billy, do you have the ration reports for the last few weeks? I need them for my meeting with Admiral Adama.”
His internal alarm system clicked up to the next level of readiness. Laura Roslin’s voice was always throaty but he’d never heard her growl before. Well, not in a good way. Actually, the way she said ‘Admiral Adama’ was more like a deep purr. He felt his cheeks start to grow hot.
He rifled through the organized chaos on his desk and, after a few moments, held up the requested file. The president leaned over to take it and he couldn’t help but notice how high her skirt rode up her legs. Much higher than the knee. Ok, almost halfway up her frakking thigh.
She caught him looking and her eyes lit up. She arched over the desk a little more, playfully exposing more leg, and he knew he must have looked appalled from the way she burst into giggles.
“Enjoying the view, Billy?”
He grimaced involuntarily and let out an extended “eeewww” before he could stop himself. The president returned her body to a less provocative position and frowned as she made an affronted noise.
“Really, Billy, have I taught you nothing about women? That’s certainly not what a girl wants to hear.”
A girl?
He shook his head to clear it but even a blow to the temple couldn’t have erased the unbidden reality that was starting to sink in. His beloved, recently recovered boss was headed to a meeting with the Admiral. In this mood. With her skirt pinned up like a tawdry Geminese school girl in a porno vid. Wearing the ‘sexy top.’
Frak.
He cleared his throat loudly and she arched an eyebrow like she was waiting for a fight. Absently, he thought about how he didn’t get paid enough for this and then sighed when he remembered he didn’t get paid at all.
“Madame President, if you’re going over there to do what I think, I mean…” He paused to rub his brow and compose himself. “I mean, would you like me to accompany you to Galactica, ma’am?”
To her credit, Laura Roslin was as cool as a cucumber. Had he not known her so well, he might have thought her mock glare was real.
“Goodness, Billy, are you saying you’d like to watch?”
He groaned and put his head in his hands. Definitely not paid enough to deal with this. He was on the verge of managing a semi-coherent response when he felt the president’s hand on his shoulder. When he finally looked up, all the bravado was gone and the questioning look in her eyes bordered on fearful.
“No, really, Billy. What do you think?” She glanced down at her outfit and back up again. When she spoke again she was almost pleading. “I’d like to know you...I mean, frak, you know what I mean.”
Not for the first time, Billy found himself feeling like the parent in this relationship. He sobered and pushed all the vivid thoughts of how and what out of his head. Without those images, he loved the idea of his friend finding love after all she’d been through. She deserved it and she deserved to know he thought so.
He reached up and rested his fingers on the ones that hadn’t left his shoulder.
“I think Bill Adama doesn’t stand a chance, Madame President.” He smiled up at her and was only a little surprised to see the look of relief that crossed her face. “He’s an idiot if he turns you down. Not the least because we’ll throw him out the airlock if he does.”
Her laughter filled the room and Billy found himself quickly enveloped in a perfumed hug, his face buried in the president’s neatly styled hair.
“Knock ‘em dead, Madame President,” he said when she’d straightened and pulled herself into her usual dignified stance. As she turned to go, he flashed on a memory of his father’s encouraging rebuke before his eldest sister’s first date with the man who'd end up her husband.
“I’ll be waiting here with a shotgun if he dares bring you home before midnight.”