BSG Drabble: Ice Queen
Title: Ice Queen
Rating: K+
Characters: A/R
Word Count: 350
Summary: After returning from Kobol, our two leaders get ready to address the fleet. However, Laura has some unfinished business to take care of first.
“You never told me why, Bill.”
The Commander settled down on his couch next to the president, reminding himself to keep breathing and under no circumstances look anywhere but in her eyes. Had his chest not been aching he would have been convinced he was dreaming.
He was pleasantly surprised when Laura accepted his offer to clean up on Galactica before addressing the fleet. He escorted her to his quarters where she could wait privately for guest accommodations to be made.
He was pleasantly shocked his offer had been misunderstood when she kicked off her borrowed boots as soon as he closed the hatch and padded toward the head, casually enquiring over her shoulder as to where he kept the extra towels.
That was how he found himself inches away from a relaxed redhead lounging on his couch wearing his personal bathrobe. He tried not to imagine what was or was not underneath the fabric.
He was having a hard enough time ignoring the broad expanse of pale presidential leg exposed through the slit and the dainty foot tapping a pattern into his carpet.
“Bill, are you alright? You didn’t answer me.”
His eyes jerked back to attention.
“Oh, well, one of my crew reminded me that the fleet needed both a mother and a father.”
Laura raised her eyebrows.
“They think of us as the parents of the fleet?”
He kicked himself for saying the wrong thing.
“Yeah, I guess so. That bother you?”
Laura hummed thoughtfully as her eyes took on a mischievous glint.
“No, I suppose not. As long as they don’t start calling me the Old Lady.”
Bill gulped as she slowly uncrossed and then crossed her legs again. Laura held his gaze, daring him to look.
“Um. I don’t think anyone could make that mistake, Madame President.”
She giggled when he leapt up and announced he needed to take his own shower.
Old Lady’s still got it, she thought with a smirk, as she heard the water start running.
An icy shower was nowhere near adequate revenge for throwing her in the brig.
But it was a start.
Rating: K+
Characters: A/R
Word Count: 350
Summary: After returning from Kobol, our two leaders get ready to address the fleet. However, Laura has some unfinished business to take care of first.
“You never told me why, Bill.”
The Commander settled down on his couch next to the president, reminding himself to keep breathing and under no circumstances look anywhere but in her eyes. Had his chest not been aching he would have been convinced he was dreaming.
He was pleasantly surprised when Laura accepted his offer to clean up on Galactica before addressing the fleet. He escorted her to his quarters where she could wait privately for guest accommodations to be made.
He was pleasantly shocked his offer had been misunderstood when she kicked off her borrowed boots as soon as he closed the hatch and padded toward the head, casually enquiring over her shoulder as to where he kept the extra towels.
That was how he found himself inches away from a relaxed redhead lounging on his couch wearing his personal bathrobe. He tried not to imagine what was or was not underneath the fabric.
He was having a hard enough time ignoring the broad expanse of pale presidential leg exposed through the slit and the dainty foot tapping a pattern into his carpet.
“Bill, are you alright? You didn’t answer me.”
His eyes jerked back to attention.
“Oh, well, one of my crew reminded me that the fleet needed both a mother and a father.”
Laura raised her eyebrows.
“They think of us as the parents of the fleet?”
He kicked himself for saying the wrong thing.
“Yeah, I guess so. That bother you?”
Laura hummed thoughtfully as her eyes took on a mischievous glint.
“No, I suppose not. As long as they don’t start calling me the Old Lady.”
Bill gulped as she slowly uncrossed and then crossed her legs again. Laura held his gaze, daring him to look.
“Um. I don’t think anyone could make that mistake, Madame President.”
She giggled when he leapt up and announced he needed to take his own shower.
Old Lady’s still got it, she thought with a smirk, as she heard the water start running.
An icy shower was nowhere near adequate revenge for throwing her in the brig.
But it was a start.