fic - Motherfrakking Whore
Title: Motherfrakking Whore
Characters: Tory and Laura Roslin
Timeline: Spoilers for 4x12 - A Disquiet Follows My Soul.
Written for thearchive2's challenge 02 - scripture with thanks to the awesome cyborganize for the beta. <#
Title Music: "Motherfucking Whore" from Dana Immanuel
"You're a difficult person to find," Tory complained. She walked into Laura's room on the Galactica as if she'd been there before. The bulkhead door clanged shut, an echo of the metal scrapes as it moved. At first, Laura didn't look up from the pages of the book she was reading to acknowledge Tory's entrance. They stayed like that for a few moments before Laura finally spoke to break the tension.
"That was the point," Laura said, glancing up from the yellowed pages. Tory looked different. She wore a thin black sweatshirt with sleeves that didn't reach her wrists. Her hair was straighter and flatter than usual. Laura was thrown by the lack of a business suit and the way the clothes made her seem so much more flirty and fun, like a magazine ad from Caprica City. It had been too long since Laura looked at Tory with anything more than irritation and confusion. The scrutiny of her gaze felt like a weight on Tory's skin.
"Since when do you hide?" Walking across the small room, Tory kept her voice low to match Laura's own level. She thought it was best to move slowly. Laura sat in the brown leather chair near the corner, so Tory leaned against the obviously unused desk on the opposite wall.
"I'm done. I'm done with the prophecy, the scripture, and the lies. All of it," Laura whispered, turning an unread page.
"I heard about your marathon through the ship the other day. You look and act well, but you don't seem well to me." Tory leaned dramatically over the edge of the desk to peer into the metal bin. She had noticed the rainbow of pills and their bottles when she walked over.
"If you ever were a judge of my condition, you certainly aren't now." Laura's voice filled with smug arrogance which made Tory's resolve weaken. She tried to focus on something to distract her from what she was going to do. She studied Laura's book, not recognizing the cracked cover. It was made of weathered black leather that had seen better days. Laura turned another thin page, the crunch of the corner loud in the silence.
"Fine, but are you really going waste everything you fought for playing house like this aboard the Galactica?" Tory whirled her finger along the depressing grey wall. She had come here with a mental list of the things she wanted - needed - to say, but none of them seemed to matter any longer.
"That's none of your business. I will live my life the way I see fit and that means living my life. Not your life and not anyone else's life, mine." Laura's voice never wavered under the weight of her words.
"The Hybrid has been asking for you. Not directly, but in her own words. I've been working with a Leoben to understand them," Tory explained. She slipped her feet from the confines of her red high heels. Unaccustomed to the new shoes, they were already hurting from the short journey.
"That must be fun for you." Laura gave up on staring down at the print, gently closing her book and resting it on the arm of the chair.
"Of course it is, but I could think of better ways to pass the time." Tory laughed, lifting one of her legs from the floor and onto the corner of the desk, careful to push the light material of her favorite black skirt into place to cover herself. Everything was new to her, and she had been clinging to the feeling for weeks, wanting to curl herself around it like a shell. She smiled, remembering how potent she'd felt when she stepped off the shuttle from the basestar and onto Galactica's flight deck. The mechanics and nearly all the pilots had stared. She knew she looked different, fresh and alive, the ends of her skirt flirting with the tops of her knees.
"What do you think you're doing?" Laura demanded, but she didn't move to stop Tory.
Tory bunched the fabric of her skirt in her hands, bringing the curled edges higher and higher on her thighs. Laura did nothing more than stare, impassive. The dark hem of the skirt inched along its torturous journey, finally revealing Tory's lack of panties.
Smiling even wider, Tory trailed her hand down her raised knee. She closed her eyes then, letting herself feel the sensations dance through her limbs. She didn't need to look to know that Laura's was watching as Tory skimmed her finger around her outer folds.
Balance was difficult to achieve with the hard edge of the desk digging into her thigh, but Tory thought she was doing well and found a perch on the edge. Laura's eyes never left her body. Tory reached into her pocket to retrieve the only cargo she'd brought on board. She held the item in the palm of her hand, fist curled around it like a secret.
A wicked grin formed on Tory's mouth as she opened her fingers and slipped the thin chain around her wrist. Laura looked at the device appraisingly with a tilt of her head. It appeared to be a round metal ball, no larger than an egg, attached to a strand of metal links.
Laura watched intently as Tory pressed the solid metallic shine inside herself, trailing the chain behind. Tory's body went completely still after the last glimmer of the orb disappeared. Her muscles relaxed and she slowly leaned back to lie over the desk. Laura's gaze traced over the dark lines of Tory's body from her toes upward, arriving at the curled ends of her hair when Tory shifted violently. Coming to life, Laura lunged forward in her seat.
"Stay there," Tory gasped, turning her head quickly to catch Laura in motion. Laura sank back down. Tory arched off the desk, leaving only her hips and shoulders touching. Her mouth hung open, but she made no sound.
Suddenly Tory pulled her other leg up, pushing her knees together. A sheen of sweat formed along her hair line. Rolling her body to face Laura, Tory sought her eyes. Laura tried to look anywhere but the brown irises, but she couldn't help but meet Tory's gaze.
A hiss from Tory broke the silence in the room, followed by her drawn out groan. No longer fighting to stay quiet, her every breathy moan reached Laura's ears. Tory's hips rose off the desk, searching for something intangible.
Tory's whole body felt numb and alive at the same time. It was like nothing she could explain in words that would make sense. It was almost like the first time she'd lowered her hand into the Hybrid's tank and felt that charge race through her body. This time the energy came from within her and radiated out to the tips of her fingers, toes, and hair. It ended sooner than either of them had expected. Tory felt like her insides were twisting and clawing to seep out. Laura was breathing just as hard as Tory, both of them coming down from the experience with short gasps and glazed eyes.
"This meant nothing, and I need you to leave." Laura's voice was steady but thin. She picked her book up from where it had fallen to the floor. Tory shoved her feet into her shoes and straightened her skirt, ignoring the quiver in her joints and muscles.
"Liar." Tory's exit held even more grace than her entrance, taking any that remained in Laura.
Characters: Tory and Laura Roslin
Timeline: Spoilers for 4x12 - A Disquiet Follows My Soul.
Written for thearchive2's challenge 02 - scripture with thanks to the awesome cyborganize for the beta. <#
Title Music: "Motherfucking Whore" from Dana Immanuel
"You're a difficult person to find," Tory complained. She walked into Laura's room on the Galactica as if she'd been there before. The bulkhead door clanged shut, an echo of the metal scrapes as it moved. At first, Laura didn't look up from the pages of the book she was reading to acknowledge Tory's entrance. They stayed like that for a few moments before Laura finally spoke to break the tension.
"That was the point," Laura said, glancing up from the yellowed pages. Tory looked different. She wore a thin black sweatshirt with sleeves that didn't reach her wrists. Her hair was straighter and flatter than usual. Laura was thrown by the lack of a business suit and the way the clothes made her seem so much more flirty and fun, like a magazine ad from Caprica City. It had been too long since Laura looked at Tory with anything more than irritation and confusion. The scrutiny of her gaze felt like a weight on Tory's skin.
"Since when do you hide?" Walking across the small room, Tory kept her voice low to match Laura's own level. She thought it was best to move slowly. Laura sat in the brown leather chair near the corner, so Tory leaned against the obviously unused desk on the opposite wall.
"I'm done. I'm done with the prophecy, the scripture, and the lies. All of it," Laura whispered, turning an unread page.
"I heard about your marathon through the ship the other day. You look and act well, but you don't seem well to me." Tory leaned dramatically over the edge of the desk to peer into the metal bin. She had noticed the rainbow of pills and their bottles when she walked over.
"If you ever were a judge of my condition, you certainly aren't now." Laura's voice filled with smug arrogance which made Tory's resolve weaken. She tried to focus on something to distract her from what she was going to do. She studied Laura's book, not recognizing the cracked cover. It was made of weathered black leather that had seen better days. Laura turned another thin page, the crunch of the corner loud in the silence.
"Fine, but are you really going waste everything you fought for playing house like this aboard the Galactica?" Tory whirled her finger along the depressing grey wall. She had come here with a mental list of the things she wanted - needed - to say, but none of them seemed to matter any longer.
"That's none of your business. I will live my life the way I see fit and that means living my life. Not your life and not anyone else's life, mine." Laura's voice never wavered under the weight of her words.
"The Hybrid has been asking for you. Not directly, but in her own words. I've been working with a Leoben to understand them," Tory explained. She slipped her feet from the confines of her red high heels. Unaccustomed to the new shoes, they were already hurting from the short journey.
"That must be fun for you." Laura gave up on staring down at the print, gently closing her book and resting it on the arm of the chair.
"Of course it is, but I could think of better ways to pass the time." Tory laughed, lifting one of her legs from the floor and onto the corner of the desk, careful to push the light material of her favorite black skirt into place to cover herself. Everything was new to her, and she had been clinging to the feeling for weeks, wanting to curl herself around it like a shell. She smiled, remembering how potent she'd felt when she stepped off the shuttle from the basestar and onto Galactica's flight deck. The mechanics and nearly all the pilots had stared. She knew she looked different, fresh and alive, the ends of her skirt flirting with the tops of her knees.
"What do you think you're doing?" Laura demanded, but she didn't move to stop Tory.
Tory bunched the fabric of her skirt in her hands, bringing the curled edges higher and higher on her thighs. Laura did nothing more than stare, impassive. The dark hem of the skirt inched along its torturous journey, finally revealing Tory's lack of panties.
Smiling even wider, Tory trailed her hand down her raised knee. She closed her eyes then, letting herself feel the sensations dance through her limbs. She didn't need to look to know that Laura's was watching as Tory skimmed her finger around her outer folds.
Balance was difficult to achieve with the hard edge of the desk digging into her thigh, but Tory thought she was doing well and found a perch on the edge. Laura's eyes never left her body. Tory reached into her pocket to retrieve the only cargo she'd brought on board. She held the item in the palm of her hand, fist curled around it like a secret.
A wicked grin formed on Tory's mouth as she opened her fingers and slipped the thin chain around her wrist. Laura looked at the device appraisingly with a tilt of her head. It appeared to be a round metal ball, no larger than an egg, attached to a strand of metal links.
Laura watched intently as Tory pressed the solid metallic shine inside herself, trailing the chain behind. Tory's body went completely still after the last glimmer of the orb disappeared. Her muscles relaxed and she slowly leaned back to lie over the desk. Laura's gaze traced over the dark lines of Tory's body from her toes upward, arriving at the curled ends of her hair when Tory shifted violently. Coming to life, Laura lunged forward in her seat.
"Stay there," Tory gasped, turning her head quickly to catch Laura in motion. Laura sank back down. Tory arched off the desk, leaving only her hips and shoulders touching. Her mouth hung open, but she made no sound.
Suddenly Tory pulled her other leg up, pushing her knees together. A sheen of sweat formed along her hair line. Rolling her body to face Laura, Tory sought her eyes. Laura tried to look anywhere but the brown irises, but she couldn't help but meet Tory's gaze.
A hiss from Tory broke the silence in the room, followed by her drawn out groan. No longer fighting to stay quiet, her every breathy moan reached Laura's ears. Tory's hips rose off the desk, searching for something intangible.
Tory's whole body felt numb and alive at the same time. It was like nothing she could explain in words that would make sense. It was almost like the first time she'd lowered her hand into the Hybrid's tank and felt that charge race through her body. This time the energy came from within her and radiated out to the tips of her fingers, toes, and hair. It ended sooner than either of them had expected. Tory felt like her insides were twisting and clawing to seep out. Laura was breathing just as hard as Tory, both of them coming down from the experience with short gasps and glazed eyes.
"This meant nothing, and I need you to leave." Laura's voice was steady but thin. She picked her book up from where it had fallen to the floor. Tory shoved her feet into her shoes and straightened her skirt, ignoring the quiver in her joints and muscles.
"Liar." Tory's exit held even more grace than her entrance, taking any that remained in Laura.