BSG FIC :: "Into the Bear's Den" [Six/Maya, Roslin/Maya] NC17
Title: Into the Bear's Den
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Rating: NC17
Pairings: Caprica!Six/Maya, Roslin/Maya
Category: NON-CON, darkfic
Date: 3 June 2006
Word Count: 2395
Spoilers: Everything up to the end of Season 2, particularly "Lay Down Your Burdens, Part 2"
Summary: Caprica!Six attempts to use a bargaining chip with Roslin: Maya.
Warnings: THIS STORY HAS NON-CON. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE NON-CON.
Website: ShatterStorm Productions - Frisked & Conquered
Link to: http://f-n-c.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Author’s Disclaimer: "Battlestar Galactica," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Ron Moore, David Eick, SciFi, R&D TV, Sky TV, and USA Cable Entertainment LLC. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Battlestar Galactica," SciFi, or any representatives of the actors whose characters are involved.
Author’s Notes: This was written for selenay_x for the Six round of getyourtoaster. Her requests were as follows:
character you want paired with Six: Roslin
up to three things you want to see in the story: power struggle, confusion
up to two things you don't want to see in the story: fluff and weepiness
preferred rating: any, prefer dark
character you want paired with Six: Maya
up to three things you want to see in the story: Caprica Six,
up to two things you don't want to see in the story: Not really, but not keen on fluffiness
preferred rating: any prefer dark
character you want paired with Six: Ellen Tigh
up to three things you want to see in the story: Shelley Godfrey, ambrosia, late night musings
up to two things you don't want to see in the story: Not really
preferred rating: any prefer dark
At first, I thought I could write the Ellen Tigh option. As time went by, I realized it just wasn't working. And I liked both the Roslin and Maya options equally, but couldn’t decide. So I decided to combine them. Hopefully it worked out in a way that my recipient will like it.
I've been bandying the idea around in my head for nearly 3 weeks, but nothing came into my brain until today. I've been writing this all day. And it's been quite a drain on me. I'm normally not one to write non-con, but it made an odd sort of sense in this particular setting.
Dedication: To my muses for not bailing on me after all…
Beta: shatterpath, as usual.
"Into the Bear's Den"
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter
"She's a lovely young thing, isn't she?" I ask, walking behind the gamely brave woman kneeling before me. She's cradling the quiet infant closer, maternally protective. I wonder if God feels the same way about His children. "So full of life, so idealistic."
"You don't expect me to answer that, do you?" comes the wary, weary reply.
I glance up to meet hooded, dark eyes. Oh, the fire flashing within those depths is fascinating. I could watch the evolution of her thought processes for hours. "No, I suppose not," I reply, trailing my fingers through the soft strands of hair, forcing myself not to tighten my grip. It won't do to push Roslin into a decision just yet. I've far more fun planned before we get to that point in the game. "Though I'm sure she'd like to hear your answer. But then, you've been frakking her, so I suppose that's answer enough, isn't it?"
She narrows her eyes, and I can see her struggling to keep her gaze off her lover. Her eyes flicker to my hand sifting through that luscious hair. I wonder what's running through her mind as she watches us. Bending over, I tighten my grip, pulling the head back, exposing the vulnerable neck, and bite down sharply on the bared earlobe.
"Laura! Please!" Her cry is strained, fearful; a heady combination that feeds on a part of me I know was cultivated in previous forms. The baby begins crying at her fearful tone.
"Leave them alone," Roslin growls, taking a step forward. "If you want something, you get it from me, not them. They're innocent."
"Ah, but that's the point, Laura Roslin," I reply with a grin. "The fact that they're so very innocent, and you're so very protective of them. The child's not yours. Nor is she blood-related to young Maya here. That much is obvious by her looks. Where did she come from?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Roslin tosses back with a far too complacent smile. I can see it's aimed at Maya and the child.
"Laura, what's going on?" Maya's plaintive voice clearly tugs at Roslin's sensibilities.
With a broad, acquiescing smile, I step back and allow my adversary to go to her young lover. I watch them intently, take in the obvious affection Roslin has for Maya and the child, coupled with a possessive dominance that has little to do with emotions of any kind. There is certainly more than meets the eye here.
Roslin smiles and murmurs something to Maya, stroking her hair soothingly. The young woman nods and leans closer, resting her head on Roslin's shoulder. They comfort the child in tandem, and I feel a pang of jealousy that Roslin can elicit that kind of reaction from both lover and child. The deft way in which Roslin suddenly has possession of the child, without so much as a whimper from her young lover, is poetry in motion. She cradles the child close in one arm, stroking Maya's cheek with the other before pressing a sweetly demanding kiss to the woman's lips. She whispers something else to Maya, quietly shushes her protestations with another kiss, and stares at her lover until receiving the answer she expects. She smiles again, and I can see it doesn't completely reach her eyes.
Standing, Roslin moves back several steps before stopping to face me. She holds the child close, and pays no further attention to the woman now huddled even smaller on the floor. The gauntlet has been thrown; I can see it in her eyes. My smile morphing into something far more sinister, I willingly pick up the challenge. Roslin will regret this decision more than any other she's made.
"Tell me, Laura Roslin," I begin genially, "does your young lover here know the intrigues you've willingly pulled her into?"
The look of curious terror on Maya's face is priceless, but doesn't compare to the reaction from Roslin. "Intrigues?" She laughs harshly. "I'm not sure where you're getting your intelligence reports from, but you're sadly mistaken. There's no intrigue involved here."
"Really?" I take a step forward and my hand instantly snakes out to twist into Maya's hair none too gently. If she's not willing to admit this the easy way, I'll certainly wring it out of her, even if it takes the life of her darling little tart. "That's not what I've heard from my sources."
"Then your sources are wrong," she replies, eyes narrowing slightly at the fear in Maya's labored breaths. "I'm no longer the president of the colonies, if you haven't guessed. I'm simply a schoolteacher for the children, what I always was and wanted to be. If you're looking for intrigue and deception, perhaps you'd do well to visit President Baltar."
Increasing the strength of my grip, I pull Maya's head back at a painful angle. "Let's just stop playing these nice little games, Laura Roslin, shall we? We both know you tried to rig the election to stay in power. We both know you were opposed to settling on this planet. And we both know that you know far more than you're willing to say about the chosen child."
The baby in her arms squawks, an obvious reaction to Roslin's sudden tenseness. "Chosen child?" I give her credit for the even tone of her voice. But her eyes don't lie. "I suppose you're referring to the Cylon child that died so soon after her premature birth?"
I snort and draw the tips of my fingernails along the line of Maya's throat. "Premature birth? Is that what you're calling it? You realize you've gone against God's will. It was God's will that the child be born and raised to be a leader among us, a savior."
"We do as the Gods will," she retorts, shifting the child in her arms. Her eyes follow the path of my nails avidly, one of her own fingers absently tracing a similar path along the side of the child's head and neck. "And yes, the child died because her lungs weren't developed enough to survive outside the womb yet."
"So you let her die? The child that saved your life, destroyed the cancer eating you from within?" I ask curiously, sensing Maya tensing under my grip. Perhaps she knows something I can exploit about her lover. "Tell me, Maya, would you be so happy if your dear lover here had died?"
"We wouldn't have been," she murmurs.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" I ask, leaning in closer. "We couldn't hear you."
"We wouldn't have been lovers," Maya replies, voice louder, and she raises her head to look at Roslin. I shift enough to see the look in her eyes, the devotion to both Roslin and the child. "We wouldn't have had the chance to raise Isis together, to teach these children about the history of the Twelve Colonies, to give them a chance at being the future of humanity. And if it means the death of a half-toaster child to make sure those things happened, then…so frakking be it."
Without thought, my hands tighten both in her hair and around her neck for that comment. She will not ridicule me and my kind. The fear in her eyes is potent, as is the arousal-laced concern in Roslin's eyes. "You realize I could easily snap your neck right now, don't you?" I ask in a low, seductive tone, momentarily distracted by the thudding of her pulse beneath my fingertips. She jerks her head in a nod and lets out a low whimper. "And you're sorry about being glad at the death of the chosen child, aren't you?" Again that jerky nod, accompanied with an audible swallow.
"Leave her alone," Roslin growls and takes a step toward us, until one of my twin centurion guard shifts closer to her and the child she holds. "She's not who you want in this."
"And how do you know what I want, Laura Roslin?" I ask, turning my gaze on her. "Having another one of your chamalla-induced visions? Oh that's right, you no longer take the chamalla now, do you?"
Her eyes narrow and she shifts the child in front of her, as if shielding her from what she surmises I'll be doing to her darling little lover…or my centurions to her and the child. And yet, she says nothing. Just moves her gaze to Maya's face, as if giving her young lover emotional support that can't physically be given.
"Laura," Maya wheezes.
"Relax, Maya," comes the low, soothing response. "Don't struggle. She'll only make it worse. Isis and I want you to come home with us."
"Oh, how touching!" I can't help but mocking her gentler side. This is not the Laura Roslin I've been groomed to deal with, the one that rigs elections and starts rebellions. This would require something more drastic to get to her. With a smile, I keep my grip on Maya's hair and move my other hand down the front of her sweater. The material is thick, warm, but I can feel the weight of her breasts underneath. "Tell me, Maya, do you breastfeed your daughter?"
"She's b-been bottle-fed," she stutters, stiffening as I unbutton the sweater and slip my hand inside. I can feel the fullness of those breasts and tweak one nipple sharply, delighting in her gasp of shock. As I move to the other nipple, I find it already standing stiffly at attention.
"Maya, do you like it when Laura physically dominates you?" She briefly breaks eye contact with Roslin to glance at me in shock, and I can see the glimmer of tears in her eyes. "You mean she doesn't? But you're responding so well to it, I just assumed…" I trail off as I meet Roslin's furious gaze. "Perhaps she'll see how much you enjoy this and do it for you in the future."
Not giving either of them a chance to respond, I pull on Maya's hair, bringing her up straighter on her knees. Kneeling beside her, I find it easier to get my hand in the waistband of her long skirt. I don't even bother to move her panties aside, just plunge two fingers deep into her. She cries out in shock, muscles clenching down around my fingers enticingly.
"Listen to me, Maya," Roslin begins in a low tone. "Focus on my voice, sweetheart. You're not really here. We're at home, just the two of us. Isis is already down for the night, and we're curled up in bed, just reading or talking. A typical night at home where we’re safe, healthy, and happy."
She continues this pathetic banter, a lame attempt to turn Maya's thoughts from what I'm doing. I don't let it deter me. If Roslin wishes her little lover to come on my hand while fantasizing about their quaint little life, so be it. I continue to thrust my fingers deeply, roughly into Maya's clutching body, thumb pressed tightly against her clit. I keep the unyielding grip on her hair, and lean in to leave a series of dark marks on her dusky skin. The next time Roslin makes love to her, I want them both to be painfully aware of just who last made Maya orgasm like a wanton tart.
"Laura, please…" The words are gasped and her eyelids are squeezed tightly shut against the sensations. Tears are slipping down her cheeks.
"Look at me, Maya," Roslin continues in that same infuriatingly calm, gentle tone. "Come on, sweetheart. It's just you and me. You're safe, you're fine. Just let it go, Maya. Don't resist her; she'll only make it worse."
It takes only another moment or two before her body begins to shudder against me as she climaxes. She's eerily silent as she stares at Roslin, mouth open and panting. Pulling my hand free of her clothing, I see light streaks of blood on my fingers. Feeling perverse, I hold up my hand so that both Roslin and Maya can see both the blood and the evidence of Maya's arousal gleaming on my fingers, before wiping them across Maya's mouth and cheek.
Pressing a light kiss to her cheek, I let go of Maya's hair and help her stand. "Such a delightfully quiet woman you are, Maya," I purr in her ear. "She must be so proud. Go on, Maya, go to them. Take your daughter home and reassure her that all is well. Your lover and I need to discuss a few more things, but I've no longer any use for you."
She stares at me as Roslin shifts the baby once again and stretches an arm toward Maya. "Maya?" The sound of Roslin's voice brings her out of her stupor. A wince of pain crosses her face as she shuffles toward her quaint little family. Roslin pulls her close with one arm, murmuring softly, and I can see Maya's shoulders shaking with her tears, her adrenaline. She scoops the baby into her arms, holding her close within the sphere of Roslin's embrace. Roslin looks up at me, steely determination in her eyes. "Your word that Maya and the baby can return to our home unharmed?"
"As I told her, I've gotten what I want out of her, she's no longer of use to me. She's fully free to go and be your little housewife now, Laura Roslin. None of my centurions will touch her or her child."
Maya murmurs something; I can hear the fearful tone in her voice and smile darkly. It'll be quite some time before she forgets the events of today. Roslin shakes her head and smiles warmly at her lover. With a last frightened look in my direction, Maya takes off as quickly as she can with the child.
"Now that your lover is gone, we can discuss the terms of our agreement," I say brightly.
Before I realize what has happened, Roslin is across the room, one hand tightly wrapped around my throat. "If you ever touch Maya or our daughter again, I'll frakking kill you and any other copies that are laying around waiting for you to die. Are we clear on that?"
And as a kind of fear settles around my nerves, it dawns on me that the Cylons really shouldn't have underestimated Laura Roslin, particularly where her family is concerned.
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Rating: NC17
Pairings: Caprica!Six/Maya, Roslin/Maya
Category: NON-CON, darkfic
Date: 3 June 2006
Word Count: 2395
Spoilers: Everything up to the end of Season 2, particularly "Lay Down Your Burdens, Part 2"
Summary: Caprica!Six attempts to use a bargaining chip with Roslin: Maya.
Warnings: THIS STORY HAS NON-CON. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE NON-CON.
Website: ShatterStorm Productions - Frisked & Conquered
Link to: http://f-n-c.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Author’s Disclaimer: "Battlestar Galactica," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Ron Moore, David Eick, SciFi, R&D TV, Sky TV, and USA Cable Entertainment LLC. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Battlestar Galactica," SciFi, or any representatives of the actors whose characters are involved.
Author’s Notes: This was written for selenay_x for the Six round of getyourtoaster. Her requests were as follows:
character you want paired with Six: Roslin
up to three things you want to see in the story: power struggle, confusion
up to two things you don't want to see in the story: fluff and weepiness
preferred rating: any, prefer dark
character you want paired with Six: Maya
up to three things you want to see in the story: Caprica Six,
up to two things you don't want to see in the story: Not really, but not keen on fluffiness
preferred rating: any prefer dark
character you want paired with Six: Ellen Tigh
up to three things you want to see in the story: Shelley Godfrey, ambrosia, late night musings
up to two things you don't want to see in the story: Not really
preferred rating: any prefer dark
At first, I thought I could write the Ellen Tigh option. As time went by, I realized it just wasn't working. And I liked both the Roslin and Maya options equally, but couldn’t decide. So I decided to combine them. Hopefully it worked out in a way that my recipient will like it.
I've been bandying the idea around in my head for nearly 3 weeks, but nothing came into my brain until today. I've been writing this all day. And it's been quite a drain on me. I'm normally not one to write non-con, but it made an odd sort of sense in this particular setting.
Dedication: To my muses for not bailing on me after all…
Beta: shatterpath, as usual.
"Into the Bear's Den"
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter
"She's a lovely young thing, isn't she?" I ask, walking behind the gamely brave woman kneeling before me. She's cradling the quiet infant closer, maternally protective. I wonder if God feels the same way about His children. "So full of life, so idealistic."
"You don't expect me to answer that, do you?" comes the wary, weary reply.
I glance up to meet hooded, dark eyes. Oh, the fire flashing within those depths is fascinating. I could watch the evolution of her thought processes for hours. "No, I suppose not," I reply, trailing my fingers through the soft strands of hair, forcing myself not to tighten my grip. It won't do to push Roslin into a decision just yet. I've far more fun planned before we get to that point in the game. "Though I'm sure she'd like to hear your answer. But then, you've been frakking her, so I suppose that's answer enough, isn't it?"
She narrows her eyes, and I can see her struggling to keep her gaze off her lover. Her eyes flicker to my hand sifting through that luscious hair. I wonder what's running through her mind as she watches us. Bending over, I tighten my grip, pulling the head back, exposing the vulnerable neck, and bite down sharply on the bared earlobe.
"Laura! Please!" Her cry is strained, fearful; a heady combination that feeds on a part of me I know was cultivated in previous forms. The baby begins crying at her fearful tone.
"Leave them alone," Roslin growls, taking a step forward. "If you want something, you get it from me, not them. They're innocent."
"Ah, but that's the point, Laura Roslin," I reply with a grin. "The fact that they're so very innocent, and you're so very protective of them. The child's not yours. Nor is she blood-related to young Maya here. That much is obvious by her looks. Where did she come from?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Roslin tosses back with a far too complacent smile. I can see it's aimed at Maya and the child.
"Laura, what's going on?" Maya's plaintive voice clearly tugs at Roslin's sensibilities.
With a broad, acquiescing smile, I step back and allow my adversary to go to her young lover. I watch them intently, take in the obvious affection Roslin has for Maya and the child, coupled with a possessive dominance that has little to do with emotions of any kind. There is certainly more than meets the eye here.
Roslin smiles and murmurs something to Maya, stroking her hair soothingly. The young woman nods and leans closer, resting her head on Roslin's shoulder. They comfort the child in tandem, and I feel a pang of jealousy that Roslin can elicit that kind of reaction from both lover and child. The deft way in which Roslin suddenly has possession of the child, without so much as a whimper from her young lover, is poetry in motion. She cradles the child close in one arm, stroking Maya's cheek with the other before pressing a sweetly demanding kiss to the woman's lips. She whispers something else to Maya, quietly shushes her protestations with another kiss, and stares at her lover until receiving the answer she expects. She smiles again, and I can see it doesn't completely reach her eyes.
Standing, Roslin moves back several steps before stopping to face me. She holds the child close, and pays no further attention to the woman now huddled even smaller on the floor. The gauntlet has been thrown; I can see it in her eyes. My smile morphing into something far more sinister, I willingly pick up the challenge. Roslin will regret this decision more than any other she's made.
"Tell me, Laura Roslin," I begin genially, "does your young lover here know the intrigues you've willingly pulled her into?"
The look of curious terror on Maya's face is priceless, but doesn't compare to the reaction from Roslin. "Intrigues?" She laughs harshly. "I'm not sure where you're getting your intelligence reports from, but you're sadly mistaken. There's no intrigue involved here."
"Really?" I take a step forward and my hand instantly snakes out to twist into Maya's hair none too gently. If she's not willing to admit this the easy way, I'll certainly wring it out of her, even if it takes the life of her darling little tart. "That's not what I've heard from my sources."
"Then your sources are wrong," she replies, eyes narrowing slightly at the fear in Maya's labored breaths. "I'm no longer the president of the colonies, if you haven't guessed. I'm simply a schoolteacher for the children, what I always was and wanted to be. If you're looking for intrigue and deception, perhaps you'd do well to visit President Baltar."
Increasing the strength of my grip, I pull Maya's head back at a painful angle. "Let's just stop playing these nice little games, Laura Roslin, shall we? We both know you tried to rig the election to stay in power. We both know you were opposed to settling on this planet. And we both know that you know far more than you're willing to say about the chosen child."
The baby in her arms squawks, an obvious reaction to Roslin's sudden tenseness. "Chosen child?" I give her credit for the even tone of her voice. But her eyes don't lie. "I suppose you're referring to the Cylon child that died so soon after her premature birth?"
I snort and draw the tips of my fingernails along the line of Maya's throat. "Premature birth? Is that what you're calling it? You realize you've gone against God's will. It was God's will that the child be born and raised to be a leader among us, a savior."
"We do as the Gods will," she retorts, shifting the child in her arms. Her eyes follow the path of my nails avidly, one of her own fingers absently tracing a similar path along the side of the child's head and neck. "And yes, the child died because her lungs weren't developed enough to survive outside the womb yet."
"So you let her die? The child that saved your life, destroyed the cancer eating you from within?" I ask curiously, sensing Maya tensing under my grip. Perhaps she knows something I can exploit about her lover. "Tell me, Maya, would you be so happy if your dear lover here had died?"
"We wouldn't have been," she murmurs.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" I ask, leaning in closer. "We couldn't hear you."
"We wouldn't have been lovers," Maya replies, voice louder, and she raises her head to look at Roslin. I shift enough to see the look in her eyes, the devotion to both Roslin and the child. "We wouldn't have had the chance to raise Isis together, to teach these children about the history of the Twelve Colonies, to give them a chance at being the future of humanity. And if it means the death of a half-toaster child to make sure those things happened, then…so frakking be it."
Without thought, my hands tighten both in her hair and around her neck for that comment. She will not ridicule me and my kind. The fear in her eyes is potent, as is the arousal-laced concern in Roslin's eyes. "You realize I could easily snap your neck right now, don't you?" I ask in a low, seductive tone, momentarily distracted by the thudding of her pulse beneath my fingertips. She jerks her head in a nod and lets out a low whimper. "And you're sorry about being glad at the death of the chosen child, aren't you?" Again that jerky nod, accompanied with an audible swallow.
"Leave her alone," Roslin growls and takes a step toward us, until one of my twin centurion guard shifts closer to her and the child she holds. "She's not who you want in this."
"And how do you know what I want, Laura Roslin?" I ask, turning my gaze on her. "Having another one of your chamalla-induced visions? Oh that's right, you no longer take the chamalla now, do you?"
Her eyes narrow and she shifts the child in front of her, as if shielding her from what she surmises I'll be doing to her darling little lover…or my centurions to her and the child. And yet, she says nothing. Just moves her gaze to Maya's face, as if giving her young lover emotional support that can't physically be given.
"Laura," Maya wheezes.
"Relax, Maya," comes the low, soothing response. "Don't struggle. She'll only make it worse. Isis and I want you to come home with us."
"Oh, how touching!" I can't help but mocking her gentler side. This is not the Laura Roslin I've been groomed to deal with, the one that rigs elections and starts rebellions. This would require something more drastic to get to her. With a smile, I keep my grip on Maya's hair and move my other hand down the front of her sweater. The material is thick, warm, but I can feel the weight of her breasts underneath. "Tell me, Maya, do you breastfeed your daughter?"
"She's b-been bottle-fed," she stutters, stiffening as I unbutton the sweater and slip my hand inside. I can feel the fullness of those breasts and tweak one nipple sharply, delighting in her gasp of shock. As I move to the other nipple, I find it already standing stiffly at attention.
"Maya, do you like it when Laura physically dominates you?" She briefly breaks eye contact with Roslin to glance at me in shock, and I can see the glimmer of tears in her eyes. "You mean she doesn't? But you're responding so well to it, I just assumed…" I trail off as I meet Roslin's furious gaze. "Perhaps she'll see how much you enjoy this and do it for you in the future."
Not giving either of them a chance to respond, I pull on Maya's hair, bringing her up straighter on her knees. Kneeling beside her, I find it easier to get my hand in the waistband of her long skirt. I don't even bother to move her panties aside, just plunge two fingers deep into her. She cries out in shock, muscles clenching down around my fingers enticingly.
"Listen to me, Maya," Roslin begins in a low tone. "Focus on my voice, sweetheart. You're not really here. We're at home, just the two of us. Isis is already down for the night, and we're curled up in bed, just reading or talking. A typical night at home where we’re safe, healthy, and happy."
She continues this pathetic banter, a lame attempt to turn Maya's thoughts from what I'm doing. I don't let it deter me. If Roslin wishes her little lover to come on my hand while fantasizing about their quaint little life, so be it. I continue to thrust my fingers deeply, roughly into Maya's clutching body, thumb pressed tightly against her clit. I keep the unyielding grip on her hair, and lean in to leave a series of dark marks on her dusky skin. The next time Roslin makes love to her, I want them both to be painfully aware of just who last made Maya orgasm like a wanton tart.
"Laura, please…" The words are gasped and her eyelids are squeezed tightly shut against the sensations. Tears are slipping down her cheeks.
"Look at me, Maya," Roslin continues in that same infuriatingly calm, gentle tone. "Come on, sweetheart. It's just you and me. You're safe, you're fine. Just let it go, Maya. Don't resist her; she'll only make it worse."
It takes only another moment or two before her body begins to shudder against me as she climaxes. She's eerily silent as she stares at Roslin, mouth open and panting. Pulling my hand free of her clothing, I see light streaks of blood on my fingers. Feeling perverse, I hold up my hand so that both Roslin and Maya can see both the blood and the evidence of Maya's arousal gleaming on my fingers, before wiping them across Maya's mouth and cheek.
Pressing a light kiss to her cheek, I let go of Maya's hair and help her stand. "Such a delightfully quiet woman you are, Maya," I purr in her ear. "She must be so proud. Go on, Maya, go to them. Take your daughter home and reassure her that all is well. Your lover and I need to discuss a few more things, but I've no longer any use for you."
She stares at me as Roslin shifts the baby once again and stretches an arm toward Maya. "Maya?" The sound of Roslin's voice brings her out of her stupor. A wince of pain crosses her face as she shuffles toward her quaint little family. Roslin pulls her close with one arm, murmuring softly, and I can see Maya's shoulders shaking with her tears, her adrenaline. She scoops the baby into her arms, holding her close within the sphere of Roslin's embrace. Roslin looks up at me, steely determination in her eyes. "Your word that Maya and the baby can return to our home unharmed?"
"As I told her, I've gotten what I want out of her, she's no longer of use to me. She's fully free to go and be your little housewife now, Laura Roslin. None of my centurions will touch her or her child."
Maya murmurs something; I can hear the fearful tone in her voice and smile darkly. It'll be quite some time before she forgets the events of today. Roslin shakes her head and smiles warmly at her lover. With a last frightened look in my direction, Maya takes off as quickly as she can with the child.
"Now that your lover is gone, we can discuss the terms of our agreement," I say brightly.
Before I realize what has happened, Roslin is across the room, one hand tightly wrapped around my throat. "If you ever touch Maya or our daughter again, I'll frakking kill you and any other copies that are laying around waiting for you to die. Are we clear on that?"
And as a kind of fear settles around my nerves, it dawns on me that the Cylons really shouldn't have underestimated Laura Roslin, particularly where her family is concerned.