Fanfic: Relics of the Garden of Aphrodite
Title: Relics of the Garden of Aphrodite (or The One Time Ellen Tigh Ran a Sex Toy Racket on New Caprica).
Author: bibliodragon
Characters/Pairing(s): Ellen/Laura
Rating: MA
Kink: Sex toys
Summary: Ellen Tigh, sex toy kingpin. It does have a nice ring to it.
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: bsg_kink Kink Off non-competition story. And I thought I would struggle to get over the 700 minimum. I blame it on the fact Ellen does not like to shut up when it comes (heh) to such matters. Much love to icedteainthebag for betaing this monster.
She had never had any plan for this.
Ellen Tigh, sex toy kingpin.
It does have a nice ring to it, but she certainly had not planned for it, oh no. She would have admitted to it if she had. God knows she had planned for many other things down on that rock. Her loving husband in her arms, and other places, for one thing. And yes, that Sam Anders was a handsome young thing, pity he was far too wrapped up in Kara Thrace, though it was funny, the panic on his face when she would flirt with him. Almost as good as Lee Adama. She could understand Kara’s interest in both of them, oh my yes.
But the sex toy thing, that was just down to one thing leading to the other.
It started, ha, innocently enough, and started long before that rock was even found. A woman has needs, and a woman has ears too. Sitting around over the stomach-stripping swill they call alcohol, the price being having to sit and fake interest in whatever is being talked about. And some of it did provide some actual entertainment. The latest place where Gaius Baltar had been caught masturbating was always good for a laugh. Then there were those rumours, those Fleet legends that would crop up now and then. Such as the rumour that before being reassigned as a part of this floating refugee camp, one of the ships of the Fleet had been discreetly transporting goods destined for The Aphrodite’s Garden, Adult Pleasure Stores.
That would usually be followed by a laugh, and a statement of “Gods, good to know that the important things got saved,” or “That’s a necessity that needs to be divvied up.” Or occasionally, “And where is this, I’d like to know. The President should not be stockpiling such things away from us mere mortals.” Then there would be another laugh, another shot and that would be it. Oh, she had tried at first, but all the influence of being the XO’s wife did you no good when it was such a hassle getting off that damned Battlestar. It wasn’t on Cloud Nine, and Saul made such a fuss about getting her a pass to visit any other ship, almost as if he didn’t trust her, and anyway, what did any other ship have that the most luxurious ship in the Fleet didn’t?
She could have brought him in on it. Goodness knows that being the XO had some perks, and making discreet enquiries for his wife should certainly have been one of them. But a wife needed to have some secrets, and in the past he had tended to get cranky about such things, even though the Gods knew a girl needed some relief when her husband was off playing the good little solider for months at a time.
So sadly, that was that, and it would have just been another Fleet legend to talk about when trying to guess who was going to turn out to be a Cylon got boring. Had it not been for that mudball. And Gaius Baltar, she supposed, but she was not likely to give that frakweasel any credit.
New Caprica: it’s cold, it’s wet and it’s lonely. The Halcyon Days of the groundbreaking had been and gone, along with Saul. He’s busy at the feet of Bill Adama in that tin can of theirs while she is freezing her ass off with only canvas between her and the Gods forsaken sky, their esteemed leader is holed up in his whorehouse while Little Miss Schoolmarm is looking suspiciously not smug as their grand new beginning falls apart before it can even begin.
The only thing that brings any amusement is sitting, drinking and bitching. And listening.
A bar is a veritable fount of information, if not intelligence.
That was how she got to know far too many details about the inner workings of the government from numerous ladies of negotiable virtue (the end of the worlds was the last place she was going to pass judgement on others), more inner workings of the government (Gaeta, poor boy, and yet no matter how much he tried even he couldn’t hide the odd sordid little detail in amongst those statistics and figures and things). Which proved a distraction, sure, but nothing more long term that that. Until one night drowning her sorrows she overheard two men mention how they had been waiting for the go-ahead to inventory one of the ships that was being used as storage for the bits and pieces just waiting to be allocated, and just why did they need such high level approval anyway? Complaining had followed, then as the alcohol continued to flow they had gone on to wonder just what Baltar had stashed there.
A good old bitch session about Imperious Leader was always a good way to waste some time, so she had innocently moved to the seat next to them, and after a few more glasses had gone by, in her second-most brazen voice had said,“You boys aren’t going to let a poor lonely woman drink all alone, are you?”
The two were one of the many involved in nominally building this fair city, the eldest your typical rough and ruddy faced man who always whistled at a passing lady, but the youngster still had a bit of a baby-faced appeal to him. Both of them had the soured expressions of those who had spent far too much time in bureaucratic hell.
It was always good to know the administration had its priorities in order.
The eldest bought her drinks, and she rewarded him by not noticing the way he was looking down her top and laughing loudly at what passed for flirting these days, and it only took one go to make the younger one blush to the roots of that fluffy blonde hair of his. Even had it just been an evening of insulting Baltar’s leaderships skills and manhood, it would have been a decent enough distraction.
But then it got even better.
“Look at you. Anyone would have thought you’d never spoken with a woman before,” Ruddy Face laughed as he slapped Blushing Blonde on the back and then downed another glassful.
“Don’t you listen to him,” she said, giving the youngster a look that deepened that blush even more. “Sometimes the girls like shy guys. They’re the ones who turn out to be animals in the sack.”
“This one? Lords of Kobol, don’t think he’s even leafed through the lingerie section of a catalogue, let alone seen a woman’s bare pussy.” He slapped him on the back again, and gave him the ’just having a bit of fun’ wink of the merciless. “You should have seen him when we came across the storage bay of the Anesidora. Frak, you think he’s blushing now.”
“Now what could possibly be worse than me?” she said sweetly, looking over her glass at the kid, who was managing to exceed expectations and blush even more so. Ruddy Face gave a downright dirty chuckle at the poor boy’s discomfort.
“Well.” He leaned forward as his voice dropped down to a whisper, and Gods, she was going to have to do the same, but she managed it without a twitch of her fascinated expression. “You know that all sorts of stuff was being transported across the Colonies...”
It took a raucous peel of laughter and an “Oh, you are too much!” and then a quiet word with the barkeep when no one was looking to bring on the double shots, and a few hours later a happily drunk Ruddy Face was being lugged home by Blushing Blonde. She sent the boy on his way with a pat on that young butt.
One appalling hangover even by her standards later, and she was picking her way through what passed for streets toward the grounded Anesidora, no plan in mind but perfectly confident she could improvise something.
The next part of this non-plan turned out even easier. Captain Andretti was an old, lonely soul watching over his sad, purposeless ship, and had not taken kindly to becoming an over qualified watchman. When she first met him, looking up over the barrel of his gun and smiling sweetly at his owlish face, she could spot it a mile away.
“Damn kids,” he said gruffly as he holstered the weapon. “Always messing about. Can’t really blame ‘em, what else is there for them to do? But I’m still not going to let them get away with throwing stones at my ship without terrifying the frakking life out of them. Take a wrong turn, did you?”
The good captain was easier to deal with than the other two. Oh, and nothing so scandalous, either. Not everything is about sex. Besides, what proved to be an asset with some people could be a limitation when it came to others. No, all it took there was sitting over a cup of what passed for coffee on that dump and lending a sympathetic ear to the old frakker’s troubles. Kind of a pity, really, he pulled of the older, distinguished look well like Saul, but at least the good captain was a better conversationalist than old Ruddy Face.
It took a bit of finagling to get to the subject of just what it was that was being stored. She managed to ask the question as if it was merely idle curiosity. The good captain told her how he was stuck looking after random bits of cargo that wasn’t of obvious use to a rag tag Fleet or a burgeoning city, but the chuckle he gave as he spoke told her she had hit pay dirt.
“And just what is the nature of this cargo?” she asked sweetly as she took a dainty sip of coffee. He grinned at her, and she got the distinct impression that he knew that she knew.
“Oh, the remnants of society,” he said. “And probably sums it up quite well, though don’t doubt some people would be horrified at that.”
“I am not a woman who horrifies easily,” she said, matching his grin with one of her own. He laughed again.
“No, I don’t think you are.”
“Why Captain, you talk as if my repetition presides me.”
What happened next was that she found herself in the cargo hold inspecting a crate holding an impressive array of adult supplies that could have kept a number of bachelorette parties in business for a long time indeed.
“And you seriously think that this can’t be of any use?” she asked the captain, with a wry eyebrow and mischief sparkling in her eyes. The good captain shrugged and looked a little uncomfortable for the first time.
“Well, it’s not something you can just pick up the wireless and announce, you know. ‘By the way, anyone want some sex toys? Got a whole load of ‘em in my cargo hold.”
She gave in to a burst of laughter as she patted him on the shoulder. “Oh, my dear Captain! It’s certainly a good thing I ran into you.”
When she woke up that morning the last thing she had been thinking was that later that day she would be negotiating a little business deal. What she had been thinking, after ‘Oh my frakking gods, my head is killing me, I’m never drinking again’ that is, was that there was a small stash, and that maybe she would find something to suit her own requirements (woman, needs, husband away, etcetera). She hadn’t expected there to be so...much. And no matter what the rumour mill said (she had been the source of about half of them, after all, so they were impressive), she couldn’t deal with all that on her own.
This was a wealth that needed to be shared.
So she spent the rest of that afternoon working out a deal with the captain. He would provide the goods, and she, well, she would provide the customers, and take a generous percentage of the profits of the cigarettes and alcohol that was the de facto New Caprican currency (as well as first pick of the goods. She was quite firm about that. Still had needs, after all).
It required all her skills of subtlety and sensitivity. People could still be awfully prudish about these things. A quiet word here and there in the correct ears was all it took. She set up shop in the bar, knowing the sight of Ellen Tigh in such a place would not draw any unwanted attention. She couldn’t do anything obviously out of the ordinary. She certainly did not want to draw the attention of the leadership. Baltar may be an incompetent little frakweasel but Zarek was not, well versed in these types of dealings that he was, and after long months spent up to her ankles in frozen mud she was not going to have him sniffing around for a share.
No, the bar it was, and she wasn’t going to complain. She could take her seat and wait for the customers to buy her a drink as they worked up the courage to ask about the merchandise. She was careful and discreet and did not laugh at their embarrassment as she gently cajoled some, teasing those who could take it, finding a joke helped break the ice. So many were so Godsdamned delicate.
“I hear you’re queen of the dildos.” Starbuck, bless her, slammed a drink down in front of her and thudded down onto the seat opposite, leaning back with a wide grin. “Do I even dare ask?”
“I am quite sure I don't know what you are talking about. Besides, a woman never reveals her sources.”
She had been very careful about that. So perhaps she wasn’t paying as much attention as she should have one afternoon in the now-familiar cargo hold while checking the inventory. Lords, it was amazing what people could think up to embellish what was inspired by the simplest little (or not) thing. It wasn’t until the footsteps were dangerously close that she heard them, and quickly grabbing the nearest thing at hand, she spun round. Which was how she came this close to braining the President (ex) of the (also ex) Twelve Colonies with a green Nymph’s Delight (Deluxe Model).
The ancient prophesies never mentioned anything like that.
Her face, oh, Ellen was going to treasure the look on her face for the rest of her life. It was almost impressive, the way demure Miss Roslin quickly hid her surprise behind that oh-so-familiar look, as if such sights were common. Perhaps they were; politicians did tend to be kinky frakkers.
“Laura.” Ellen smiled with all the fake warmth she could muster. “How lovely to see you.”
“Ellen.” No matter how unflappable, she still couldn’t stop her eyes from darting to the object in her hand, Ellen was glad to see. Back to looking her in the eye, Laura Roslin straightened slightly as she held her hands neatly against her stomach, as if challenging herself not to drop eye contact. She could try and ignore the elephant in the room, or the sex toys in the cargo hold to be more precise, as much as she liked, Ellen though wickedly. She wasn’t going to make it easy on her, oh Hades no.
“And what brings such an esteemed visitor down here?”
“I’m just a school teacher now, Ellen.”
“Of course. And what brings such an esteemed school teacher down here? Perhaps there is something I can help you with?”
That got such a blank look of sheer annoyance in response that she had to grin at it. It looked like she knew full well just what she was up to, and had come to rain on her parade. Well, Little Miss President no longer had easy access to the airlocks, and Ellen was not going to give up without a fight. Someone had to stand up for the small businesswoman!
She hadn’t had such fun in years.
“Why don’t you pull up a crate?” she asked, the perfect hostess, gesturing with the vibrator, looking down at it and giving a giggle as if she had not noticed she was still holding it. “I am very busy, but I’m sure I can fit five minutes into my schedule for you.”
Laura was still very carefully meeting her eyes. Ellen loved that. “Ellen, just what are you up to here?”
“Up to?” She gave Laura her best ‘What, little ol’ me? ’ smile. “I’m not ‘up to’ anything.”
“Cut the crap, Ellen.”
“Want to get straight down to business? I hear you. So what can I put you down for? The selection may not be as large as the old store back on Caprica, but what’s the lie they always say? It’s not the size but what you do with it.” Putting the vibrator to the side, she picked up her clipboard and looked over it at her with an all-business smile. It was a pity she had 20/20 vision. Being able to look over glasses would have complemented the professional look nicely.
Granted, Laura was the master of that look; she was trying it just then but it was lacking something. Perhaps Ellen had managed the impossible and discovered the one thing to neutralise the Presidential Teacher Stare of Death. She could get right on it and tell that to Baltar, but sadly she didn’t care. Though Saul would appreciate that tip.
Oh Saul.
“You look so serious, Laura.” Dropping the professional attitude, she instead opted for the more familiar leer. “Lighten up. It’s just a little fun, and Gods know we all need a little of that.”
“And I’m sure your motives are nothing but altruistic,” Laura said crisply. “But what about the rest of your black market colleagues?”
“Colleagues? Hardly!” she scoffed. “They have their own sordid little business, and I have mine, the more wholesome of the two.”
“And what happens when all...this runs out? Will you be running to Tom Zarek to move on to different merchandise?”
“Tom Zarek! I’m sure Tom is far too busy Vice Presidenting…” she didn’t bother trying to keep a straight face, “...to care about this niche market.”
“Tom Zarek cares about whatever can get him influence.” Uh oh. Laura was pissed, folding her arms and this time, the full force of The Glare was in effect.
“Like jumping into bed with Gaius Baltar, you mean? As if I would do such a thing with either of them. You don’t need to worry your pretty little head on that account, I assure you.”
“This isn’t a game, Ellen.”
It wasn’t anything but a game, a game that had moved on from the round of ‘Run from the Homicidal Robots’ to round ‘Die of Cold and Boredom on a Muddy Little Rock,’ and Ellen was going to play the hand she had been dealt. “Laura, you really need to learn to leave the politics behind. You definitely need to learn to relax. Luckily, that certainly is something I can help you with.”
Madame School Teacher slash ex-President wasn’t looking impressed as Ellen sauntered past to look over her wares. “I didn’t come here for your opinion on how I live my life, Ellen.”
“Well, I’d say that right there is your problem,” she said in a slow, suggestive drawl. “You’re so wound up. And while I’m sure that went a long way to keep civilisation ticking over, you’re a civilian now. You really need to learn to just...let go.”
“And is that your expert opinion?”
But pissed off as she was, she wasn’t storming off. Instead she was leaning against her crate, legs primly crossed at the ankles, arms folded and ticked off teacher/president glare in place, but she wasn’t leaving. Perhaps there was some hope for her after all.
Ellen's chuckle was muffled by the wood of the crate as she bent over. “Honey, there may be many things I'm not an expert in. Knowing how to have a good time, now that’s not one of them. Ah, now this…” Finding what she was looking for, she surfaced with her best saleswoman grin. “This little number I call ‘the Admiral.’”
Laura was not impressed,
“No? Perhaps something less vanilla. Now let’s see what we have left here. Business has been booming, but there is some of the more adventurous stuff left.”
Ellen decided to see just how far she could push it. Anything for entertainment, after all, and besides, as far as she was concerned, Laura was asking for it, sticking her nose into other people's business like some old busybody.
“I mean, can you imagine what this is for?” she said, holding up an elaborate harness and grinning at her through the nylon straps. “Then again, maybe you can, you were a college girl after all.”
Not a flicker. Damn that politician’s resolve. Time to up the ante!
“I don’t know about you, but I do miss my college sorority days. Ah, the energy of youth, the freedom to try all sorts of new things. Those were the days, don’t you agree?”
“Those days have passed for you?” It was said with enough deceptive mildness to be really nasty.
Ellen smiled sweetly in response. “Oh, nothing wrong in wanting to relive one's youth, Laura. And we couldn’t all be perfectly behaved, studious little things.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised .”
“Sometimes you’d stay up after nine, you mean?” Ellen took a slow step toward her. “But of course, that butter-won’t-melt routine could be hiding a truly sinful scandal or two.” Moving even closer to her, she winked. “You could tell me. I wouldn’t tell a soul.”
“Goodbye Ellen.” Laura moved to brush past her, but Ellen was quicker, taking hold of Laura’s arm and stepping in front to block her way, and to her surprise Laura actually stalled, meeting the amused challenge in her gaze with cool green eyes. Lords, the woman was unflappable! Downright refused to be flapped!
Well then, challenge accepted.
“Maybe that's your problem.” Ellen let her fingers trail down Laura's arm as she swayed even closer to the other woman, leaning forward to invade her space with a self-satisfied smile. “You need to break some rules, make some memories. Have a little fun and to hell with the consequences.”
“Really? And you don’t think you’ve been managing quite nicely for the both of us?” If Ellen hadn’t known better, she could have sworn Laura was leaning in.
“You’re talking as if there is only so much to go around,” Ellen said with a laugh. Damn the woman’s refusal to back down! She was almost impressed. Who would have though Miss Prim and Proper was capable of it. Staring down Cylons, yes, ok, there were the rumours, but she was Ellen Tigh, she was more formidable than any Cylon!
Perhaps it was time to see just how far she could take this.
But before she could do anything, Laura was suddenly there before her, her lips meeting hers with a force that caught her on the back foot before the ornery determination to win this thing kicked in and she was kissing back.
Oh, alright, it was also hot as hell. Happy? She had been missing out on this sort of fun since Saul was last let out to play. And to give her credit, Madame President was not a bad kisser. Not bad at all.
So she was meeting her challenge, very well. Ellen was more than game. As Ellen snaked her hand up to fist in red hair, she carefully considered her next move and certainly did not allow herself to be distracted, oh no. Next move. Right.
Laura released her mouth just as the need to breathe was making itself known above other things, resting her chin on Ellen's shoulder. Ellen could feel the rhythmic panting of Laura's breath against her neck.
“Well, sweetie,” Ellen said, a little breathless herself. “If that’s how you deal with all your detractors then I’ve got to get myself into politics.” She gave her a little pat on the back. “Okay, first base. I’m sure that’s very impressive for you.”
She could feel Laura’s body stiffen against her at that, annoyance given physicality no matter how well she could control her expression. She could feel the heat of it through those rummage sale clothes of hers. Yes, yes, good try sweetie, a valiant effort indeed. Perhaps now the storming off would happen, though Ellen found she was hoping not.
Laura pulled her head up and looked at her, with that little smile that confirmed that Ellen had gotten to her. She smiled back without restraint as she gave another condescending little pat, this time lower down. “But that is definitely a good start. Still a long way to go, but yes, a very good start.”
“A start?” Laura spoke with kitten sweetness, her smile showing more of those white teeth.
“In this day and age, first base just isn’t the big deal it was in your day.”
“In my day.”
Oh, she was really pissed if she had forgotten she still had to untangle herself. Pissing off Laura Roslin, and more sex toys, cigarettes and alcohol she could use. This rock was the best planet ever!
“Don’t worry about it.” Hand now firmly on Laura's ass, Ellen gave Laura a surprisingly chaste peck on the cheek and then nuzzled at her ear. “I’m sure you could catch up,” she said, voice dropping to a throaty whisper.
With one slick movement, Laura’s leg was firmly pressing between Ellen’s own, knee relentlessly upwards until, oh, right there. Taking advantage of her surprise, Laura’s hands were on Ellen's hips, and with an awkward pirouette somehow Ellen was feeling the edge of the crate digging into her ass.
Turned out Laura could work that sweet smile, as well. “You really don’t want to frak with me, Ellen.”
Touché, but she was forgetting who she was dealing with here. She was Ellen Tigh, queen of the sex toys, frak it! It was time to bring out the big guns.
“All right, you’ve impressed me. I’m woman enough to admit it.” Slipping away from Laura's clutches was more difficult than she expected, but sauntering over to her crate gave her enough time to remind herself just what this game was. This was merely a tactical retreat.
But maybe Ellen wanted her to what? If only to be able to look Bill Adama in the face and know that she had frakked Laura Roslin while he was off in space being oh-so-noble. Laura was still there, with the smug little smile that showed she was enjoying her victory. Ellen was certain she saw that smile flicker as Ellen turned around to show her the strap on and harness. Ellen’s own grin widened. “But you don’t want to take on the woman who has access to the Fleet's sex toys.”
If she had for one minute believed she would actually take her on, she would have made sure not to do it in a draughty cargo bay. Sure, it was private, but sadly lacking in comforts. She really should have put a fold away or something in there.
Still, it did add to the sordid thrill of the things, taking Laura up against the bulkhead, still half clothed. It should have been in the airlock. Damn, that was always the way of it, you think of these things after the event.
Oh well, not that Laura needed any more encouragement; biting her lip at first, Ellen took delight in encouraging more vocal responses from her. Ellen was not nearly so restrained, with each roll of her hips causing the base of the toy to rub in just the right place, wonderful design, she would have written to the manufacturers had they not been nuked into oblivion, Ellen let out a moan that echoed against the metal hull of the cargo ship.
Laura’s face was a picture, the way that careful control crumbled, making Ellen all the hotter. “That’s it sweetie, you can do it.” Her fingers moved between Laura’s legs, searching out her swollen clit. “Just let go.”
She didn’t cry out when she came, instead letting out a low moan deep in her throat that was surprisingly sexy.
“There you go.” Ellen managed to hiss out as she increased her pace, frak, that peaceful expression on her face, she would have to remember that when she savoured her victory. Arching her back, frak it, so close.
Opening her eyes just before falling over the edge, she saw Laura looking at her with indolent triumph. Then her vision whitened out, pleasure throbbing though her body and she was too far gone to care.
There was a certain amount of awkwardness to brazen out afterward, that brassy grin to get in place as she untangled the straps and pulled up her underwear while marvelling at the way Laura made herself presentable as if nothing inappropriate had happened.
All right, yes, she was impressed. But there was no way in Hades she was going to let the other woman know that.
“Well Laura, it’s been just lovely to see you,” she drawled, and Laura looked back at her with perfectly familiar aloofness.
“Ellen.”
“We should do this again sometime,” she said with a leer.
“I don’t think so.”
Ellen just laughed, and picking up the toy she slapped it into Laura’s hands before she could react. “A free sample,” she said sweetly. “Don’t let yourself get so uptight.” She thought she was going to refuse, perhaps she was thinking about it, but instead Laura tucked it away in those vast sleeves so quickly you wouldn’t have believed it had ever been there. Ellen had to laugh at that. “Goodbye, Laura. I do have some business to attend to.”
Bah, another day of not doing anything important. Say one thing about fleeing for your life from homicidal robots; at least it meant you always had something to do. The good captain was even missing the stress of running all the time. All right, perhaps not the stress. It did mean he got to keep what was left of his hair. And this little business arrangement with the Tigh woman, it did mean he could smoke and drink his troubles away. Pity he didn’t drink or smoke.
“Madame Pres- I mean, Miss Roslin.” Captain Andretti quickly snatched off his cap to hide his confusion as he met the ex-President at the hatchway.
“Captain, it’s nice to see you again,” she said, with a smile that could have been genuine.
Hmm, well, it was nice to see that this dump was agreeing with someone, though he couldn’t shake the feeling of being caught out. “What brings you here? No trouble I hope.”
“No, no trouble at all. Just a little bit of bartering.”
“Ah.” Ah indeed. He really didn’t want to know, did he? But his treacherous mouth was moving before he could stop it. “A good deal, I hope.”
“A steal.”
Author: bibliodragon
Characters/Pairing(s): Ellen/Laura
Rating: MA
Kink: Sex toys
Summary: Ellen Tigh, sex toy kingpin. It does have a nice ring to it.
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: bsg_kink Kink Off non-competition story. And I thought I would struggle to get over the 700 minimum. I blame it on the fact Ellen does not like to shut up when it comes (heh) to such matters. Much love to icedteainthebag for betaing this monster.
She had never had any plan for this.
Ellen Tigh, sex toy kingpin.
It does have a nice ring to it, but she certainly had not planned for it, oh no. She would have admitted to it if she had. God knows she had planned for many other things down on that rock. Her loving husband in her arms, and other places, for one thing. And yes, that Sam Anders was a handsome young thing, pity he was far too wrapped up in Kara Thrace, though it was funny, the panic on his face when she would flirt with him. Almost as good as Lee Adama. She could understand Kara’s interest in both of them, oh my yes.
But the sex toy thing, that was just down to one thing leading to the other.
It started, ha, innocently enough, and started long before that rock was even found. A woman has needs, and a woman has ears too. Sitting around over the stomach-stripping swill they call alcohol, the price being having to sit and fake interest in whatever is being talked about. And some of it did provide some actual entertainment. The latest place where Gaius Baltar had been caught masturbating was always good for a laugh. Then there were those rumours, those Fleet legends that would crop up now and then. Such as the rumour that before being reassigned as a part of this floating refugee camp, one of the ships of the Fleet had been discreetly transporting goods destined for The Aphrodite’s Garden, Adult Pleasure Stores.
That would usually be followed by a laugh, and a statement of “Gods, good to know that the important things got saved,” or “That’s a necessity that needs to be divvied up.” Or occasionally, “And where is this, I’d like to know. The President should not be stockpiling such things away from us mere mortals.” Then there would be another laugh, another shot and that would be it. Oh, she had tried at first, but all the influence of being the XO’s wife did you no good when it was such a hassle getting off that damned Battlestar. It wasn’t on Cloud Nine, and Saul made such a fuss about getting her a pass to visit any other ship, almost as if he didn’t trust her, and anyway, what did any other ship have that the most luxurious ship in the Fleet didn’t?
She could have brought him in on it. Goodness knows that being the XO had some perks, and making discreet enquiries for his wife should certainly have been one of them. But a wife needed to have some secrets, and in the past he had tended to get cranky about such things, even though the Gods knew a girl needed some relief when her husband was off playing the good little solider for months at a time.
So sadly, that was that, and it would have just been another Fleet legend to talk about when trying to guess who was going to turn out to be a Cylon got boring. Had it not been for that mudball. And Gaius Baltar, she supposed, but she was not likely to give that frakweasel any credit.
New Caprica: it’s cold, it’s wet and it’s lonely. The Halcyon Days of the groundbreaking had been and gone, along with Saul. He’s busy at the feet of Bill Adama in that tin can of theirs while she is freezing her ass off with only canvas between her and the Gods forsaken sky, their esteemed leader is holed up in his whorehouse while Little Miss Schoolmarm is looking suspiciously not smug as their grand new beginning falls apart before it can even begin.
The only thing that brings any amusement is sitting, drinking and bitching. And listening.
A bar is a veritable fount of information, if not intelligence.
That was how she got to know far too many details about the inner workings of the government from numerous ladies of negotiable virtue (the end of the worlds was the last place she was going to pass judgement on others), more inner workings of the government (Gaeta, poor boy, and yet no matter how much he tried even he couldn’t hide the odd sordid little detail in amongst those statistics and figures and things). Which proved a distraction, sure, but nothing more long term that that. Until one night drowning her sorrows she overheard two men mention how they had been waiting for the go-ahead to inventory one of the ships that was being used as storage for the bits and pieces just waiting to be allocated, and just why did they need such high level approval anyway? Complaining had followed, then as the alcohol continued to flow they had gone on to wonder just what Baltar had stashed there.
A good old bitch session about Imperious Leader was always a good way to waste some time, so she had innocently moved to the seat next to them, and after a few more glasses had gone by, in her second-most brazen voice had said,“You boys aren’t going to let a poor lonely woman drink all alone, are you?”
The two were one of the many involved in nominally building this fair city, the eldest your typical rough and ruddy faced man who always whistled at a passing lady, but the youngster still had a bit of a baby-faced appeal to him. Both of them had the soured expressions of those who had spent far too much time in bureaucratic hell.
It was always good to know the administration had its priorities in order.
The eldest bought her drinks, and she rewarded him by not noticing the way he was looking down her top and laughing loudly at what passed for flirting these days, and it only took one go to make the younger one blush to the roots of that fluffy blonde hair of his. Even had it just been an evening of insulting Baltar’s leaderships skills and manhood, it would have been a decent enough distraction.
But then it got even better.
“Look at you. Anyone would have thought you’d never spoken with a woman before,” Ruddy Face laughed as he slapped Blushing Blonde on the back and then downed another glassful.
“Don’t you listen to him,” she said, giving the youngster a look that deepened that blush even more. “Sometimes the girls like shy guys. They’re the ones who turn out to be animals in the sack.”
“This one? Lords of Kobol, don’t think he’s even leafed through the lingerie section of a catalogue, let alone seen a woman’s bare pussy.” He slapped him on the back again, and gave him the ’just having a bit of fun’ wink of the merciless. “You should have seen him when we came across the storage bay of the Anesidora. Frak, you think he’s blushing now.”
“Now what could possibly be worse than me?” she said sweetly, looking over her glass at the kid, who was managing to exceed expectations and blush even more so. Ruddy Face gave a downright dirty chuckle at the poor boy’s discomfort.
“Well.” He leaned forward as his voice dropped down to a whisper, and Gods, she was going to have to do the same, but she managed it without a twitch of her fascinated expression. “You know that all sorts of stuff was being transported across the Colonies...”
It took a raucous peel of laughter and an “Oh, you are too much!” and then a quiet word with the barkeep when no one was looking to bring on the double shots, and a few hours later a happily drunk Ruddy Face was being lugged home by Blushing Blonde. She sent the boy on his way with a pat on that young butt.
One appalling hangover even by her standards later, and she was picking her way through what passed for streets toward the grounded Anesidora, no plan in mind but perfectly confident she could improvise something.
The next part of this non-plan turned out even easier. Captain Andretti was an old, lonely soul watching over his sad, purposeless ship, and had not taken kindly to becoming an over qualified watchman. When she first met him, looking up over the barrel of his gun and smiling sweetly at his owlish face, she could spot it a mile away.
“Damn kids,” he said gruffly as he holstered the weapon. “Always messing about. Can’t really blame ‘em, what else is there for them to do? But I’m still not going to let them get away with throwing stones at my ship without terrifying the frakking life out of them. Take a wrong turn, did you?”
The good captain was easier to deal with than the other two. Oh, and nothing so scandalous, either. Not everything is about sex. Besides, what proved to be an asset with some people could be a limitation when it came to others. No, all it took there was sitting over a cup of what passed for coffee on that dump and lending a sympathetic ear to the old frakker’s troubles. Kind of a pity, really, he pulled of the older, distinguished look well like Saul, but at least the good captain was a better conversationalist than old Ruddy Face.
It took a bit of finagling to get to the subject of just what it was that was being stored. She managed to ask the question as if it was merely idle curiosity. The good captain told her how he was stuck looking after random bits of cargo that wasn’t of obvious use to a rag tag Fleet or a burgeoning city, but the chuckle he gave as he spoke told her she had hit pay dirt.
“And just what is the nature of this cargo?” she asked sweetly as she took a dainty sip of coffee. He grinned at her, and she got the distinct impression that he knew that she knew.
“Oh, the remnants of society,” he said. “And probably sums it up quite well, though don’t doubt some people would be horrified at that.”
“I am not a woman who horrifies easily,” she said, matching his grin with one of her own. He laughed again.
“No, I don’t think you are.”
“Why Captain, you talk as if my repetition presides me.”
What happened next was that she found herself in the cargo hold inspecting a crate holding an impressive array of adult supplies that could have kept a number of bachelorette parties in business for a long time indeed.
“And you seriously think that this can’t be of any use?” she asked the captain, with a wry eyebrow and mischief sparkling in her eyes. The good captain shrugged and looked a little uncomfortable for the first time.
“Well, it’s not something you can just pick up the wireless and announce, you know. ‘By the way, anyone want some sex toys? Got a whole load of ‘em in my cargo hold.”
She gave in to a burst of laughter as she patted him on the shoulder. “Oh, my dear Captain! It’s certainly a good thing I ran into you.”
When she woke up that morning the last thing she had been thinking was that later that day she would be negotiating a little business deal. What she had been thinking, after ‘Oh my frakking gods, my head is killing me, I’m never drinking again’ that is, was that there was a small stash, and that maybe she would find something to suit her own requirements (woman, needs, husband away, etcetera). She hadn’t expected there to be so...much. And no matter what the rumour mill said (she had been the source of about half of them, after all, so they were impressive), she couldn’t deal with all that on her own.
This was a wealth that needed to be shared.
So she spent the rest of that afternoon working out a deal with the captain. He would provide the goods, and she, well, she would provide the customers, and take a generous percentage of the profits of the cigarettes and alcohol that was the de facto New Caprican currency (as well as first pick of the goods. She was quite firm about that. Still had needs, after all).
It required all her skills of subtlety and sensitivity. People could still be awfully prudish about these things. A quiet word here and there in the correct ears was all it took. She set up shop in the bar, knowing the sight of Ellen Tigh in such a place would not draw any unwanted attention. She couldn’t do anything obviously out of the ordinary. She certainly did not want to draw the attention of the leadership. Baltar may be an incompetent little frakweasel but Zarek was not, well versed in these types of dealings that he was, and after long months spent up to her ankles in frozen mud she was not going to have him sniffing around for a share.
No, the bar it was, and she wasn’t going to complain. She could take her seat and wait for the customers to buy her a drink as they worked up the courage to ask about the merchandise. She was careful and discreet and did not laugh at their embarrassment as she gently cajoled some, teasing those who could take it, finding a joke helped break the ice. So many were so Godsdamned delicate.
“I hear you’re queen of the dildos.” Starbuck, bless her, slammed a drink down in front of her and thudded down onto the seat opposite, leaning back with a wide grin. “Do I even dare ask?”
“I am quite sure I don't know what you are talking about. Besides, a woman never reveals her sources.”
She had been very careful about that. So perhaps she wasn’t paying as much attention as she should have one afternoon in the now-familiar cargo hold while checking the inventory. Lords, it was amazing what people could think up to embellish what was inspired by the simplest little (or not) thing. It wasn’t until the footsteps were dangerously close that she heard them, and quickly grabbing the nearest thing at hand, she spun round. Which was how she came this close to braining the President (ex) of the (also ex) Twelve Colonies with a green Nymph’s Delight (Deluxe Model).
The ancient prophesies never mentioned anything like that.
Her face, oh, Ellen was going to treasure the look on her face for the rest of her life. It was almost impressive, the way demure Miss Roslin quickly hid her surprise behind that oh-so-familiar look, as if such sights were common. Perhaps they were; politicians did tend to be kinky frakkers.
“Laura.” Ellen smiled with all the fake warmth she could muster. “How lovely to see you.”
“Ellen.” No matter how unflappable, she still couldn’t stop her eyes from darting to the object in her hand, Ellen was glad to see. Back to looking her in the eye, Laura Roslin straightened slightly as she held her hands neatly against her stomach, as if challenging herself not to drop eye contact. She could try and ignore the elephant in the room, or the sex toys in the cargo hold to be more precise, as much as she liked, Ellen though wickedly. She wasn’t going to make it easy on her, oh Hades no.
“And what brings such an esteemed visitor down here?”
“I’m just a school teacher now, Ellen.”
“Of course. And what brings such an esteemed school teacher down here? Perhaps there is something I can help you with?”
That got such a blank look of sheer annoyance in response that she had to grin at it. It looked like she knew full well just what she was up to, and had come to rain on her parade. Well, Little Miss President no longer had easy access to the airlocks, and Ellen was not going to give up without a fight. Someone had to stand up for the small businesswoman!
She hadn’t had such fun in years.
“Why don’t you pull up a crate?” she asked, the perfect hostess, gesturing with the vibrator, looking down at it and giving a giggle as if she had not noticed she was still holding it. “I am very busy, but I’m sure I can fit five minutes into my schedule for you.”
Laura was still very carefully meeting her eyes. Ellen loved that. “Ellen, just what are you up to here?”
“Up to?” She gave Laura her best ‘What, little ol’ me? ’ smile. “I’m not ‘up to’ anything.”
“Cut the crap, Ellen.”
“Want to get straight down to business? I hear you. So what can I put you down for? The selection may not be as large as the old store back on Caprica, but what’s the lie they always say? It’s not the size but what you do with it.” Putting the vibrator to the side, she picked up her clipboard and looked over it at her with an all-business smile. It was a pity she had 20/20 vision. Being able to look over glasses would have complemented the professional look nicely.
Granted, Laura was the master of that look; she was trying it just then but it was lacking something. Perhaps Ellen had managed the impossible and discovered the one thing to neutralise the Presidential Teacher Stare of Death. She could get right on it and tell that to Baltar, but sadly she didn’t care. Though Saul would appreciate that tip.
Oh Saul.
“You look so serious, Laura.” Dropping the professional attitude, she instead opted for the more familiar leer. “Lighten up. It’s just a little fun, and Gods know we all need a little of that.”
“And I’m sure your motives are nothing but altruistic,” Laura said crisply. “But what about the rest of your black market colleagues?”
“Colleagues? Hardly!” she scoffed. “They have their own sordid little business, and I have mine, the more wholesome of the two.”
“And what happens when all...this runs out? Will you be running to Tom Zarek to move on to different merchandise?”
“Tom Zarek! I’m sure Tom is far too busy Vice Presidenting…” she didn’t bother trying to keep a straight face, “...to care about this niche market.”
“Tom Zarek cares about whatever can get him influence.” Uh oh. Laura was pissed, folding her arms and this time, the full force of The Glare was in effect.
“Like jumping into bed with Gaius Baltar, you mean? As if I would do such a thing with either of them. You don’t need to worry your pretty little head on that account, I assure you.”
“This isn’t a game, Ellen.”
It wasn’t anything but a game, a game that had moved on from the round of ‘Run from the Homicidal Robots’ to round ‘Die of Cold and Boredom on a Muddy Little Rock,’ and Ellen was going to play the hand she had been dealt. “Laura, you really need to learn to leave the politics behind. You definitely need to learn to relax. Luckily, that certainly is something I can help you with.”
Madame School Teacher slash ex-President wasn’t looking impressed as Ellen sauntered past to look over her wares. “I didn’t come here for your opinion on how I live my life, Ellen.”
“Well, I’d say that right there is your problem,” she said in a slow, suggestive drawl. “You’re so wound up. And while I’m sure that went a long way to keep civilisation ticking over, you’re a civilian now. You really need to learn to just...let go.”
“And is that your expert opinion?”
But pissed off as she was, she wasn’t storming off. Instead she was leaning against her crate, legs primly crossed at the ankles, arms folded and ticked off teacher/president glare in place, but she wasn’t leaving. Perhaps there was some hope for her after all.
Ellen's chuckle was muffled by the wood of the crate as she bent over. “Honey, there may be many things I'm not an expert in. Knowing how to have a good time, now that’s not one of them. Ah, now this…” Finding what she was looking for, she surfaced with her best saleswoman grin. “This little number I call ‘the Admiral.’”
Laura was not impressed,
“No? Perhaps something less vanilla. Now let’s see what we have left here. Business has been booming, but there is some of the more adventurous stuff left.”
Ellen decided to see just how far she could push it. Anything for entertainment, after all, and besides, as far as she was concerned, Laura was asking for it, sticking her nose into other people's business like some old busybody.
“I mean, can you imagine what this is for?” she said, holding up an elaborate harness and grinning at her through the nylon straps. “Then again, maybe you can, you were a college girl after all.”
Not a flicker. Damn that politician’s resolve. Time to up the ante!
“I don’t know about you, but I do miss my college sorority days. Ah, the energy of youth, the freedom to try all sorts of new things. Those were the days, don’t you agree?”
“Those days have passed for you?” It was said with enough deceptive mildness to be really nasty.
Ellen smiled sweetly in response. “Oh, nothing wrong in wanting to relive one's youth, Laura. And we couldn’t all be perfectly behaved, studious little things.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised .”
“Sometimes you’d stay up after nine, you mean?” Ellen took a slow step toward her. “But of course, that butter-won’t-melt routine could be hiding a truly sinful scandal or two.” Moving even closer to her, she winked. “You could tell me. I wouldn’t tell a soul.”
“Goodbye Ellen.” Laura moved to brush past her, but Ellen was quicker, taking hold of Laura’s arm and stepping in front to block her way, and to her surprise Laura actually stalled, meeting the amused challenge in her gaze with cool green eyes. Lords, the woman was unflappable! Downright refused to be flapped!
Well then, challenge accepted.
“Maybe that's your problem.” Ellen let her fingers trail down Laura's arm as she swayed even closer to the other woman, leaning forward to invade her space with a self-satisfied smile. “You need to break some rules, make some memories. Have a little fun and to hell with the consequences.”
“Really? And you don’t think you’ve been managing quite nicely for the both of us?” If Ellen hadn’t known better, she could have sworn Laura was leaning in.
“You’re talking as if there is only so much to go around,” Ellen said with a laugh. Damn the woman’s refusal to back down! She was almost impressed. Who would have though Miss Prim and Proper was capable of it. Staring down Cylons, yes, ok, there were the rumours, but she was Ellen Tigh, she was more formidable than any Cylon!
Perhaps it was time to see just how far she could take this.
But before she could do anything, Laura was suddenly there before her, her lips meeting hers with a force that caught her on the back foot before the ornery determination to win this thing kicked in and she was kissing back.
Oh, alright, it was also hot as hell. Happy? She had been missing out on this sort of fun since Saul was last let out to play. And to give her credit, Madame President was not a bad kisser. Not bad at all.
So she was meeting her challenge, very well. Ellen was more than game. As Ellen snaked her hand up to fist in red hair, she carefully considered her next move and certainly did not allow herself to be distracted, oh no. Next move. Right.
Laura released her mouth just as the need to breathe was making itself known above other things, resting her chin on Ellen's shoulder. Ellen could feel the rhythmic panting of Laura's breath against her neck.
“Well, sweetie,” Ellen said, a little breathless herself. “If that’s how you deal with all your detractors then I’ve got to get myself into politics.” She gave her a little pat on the back. “Okay, first base. I’m sure that’s very impressive for you.”
She could feel Laura’s body stiffen against her at that, annoyance given physicality no matter how well she could control her expression. She could feel the heat of it through those rummage sale clothes of hers. Yes, yes, good try sweetie, a valiant effort indeed. Perhaps now the storming off would happen, though Ellen found she was hoping not.
Laura pulled her head up and looked at her, with that little smile that confirmed that Ellen had gotten to her. She smiled back without restraint as she gave another condescending little pat, this time lower down. “But that is definitely a good start. Still a long way to go, but yes, a very good start.”
“A start?” Laura spoke with kitten sweetness, her smile showing more of those white teeth.
“In this day and age, first base just isn’t the big deal it was in your day.”
“In my day.”
Oh, she was really pissed if she had forgotten she still had to untangle herself. Pissing off Laura Roslin, and more sex toys, cigarettes and alcohol she could use. This rock was the best planet ever!
“Don’t worry about it.” Hand now firmly on Laura's ass, Ellen gave Laura a surprisingly chaste peck on the cheek and then nuzzled at her ear. “I’m sure you could catch up,” she said, voice dropping to a throaty whisper.
With one slick movement, Laura’s leg was firmly pressing between Ellen’s own, knee relentlessly upwards until, oh, right there. Taking advantage of her surprise, Laura’s hands were on Ellen's hips, and with an awkward pirouette somehow Ellen was feeling the edge of the crate digging into her ass.
Turned out Laura could work that sweet smile, as well. “You really don’t want to frak with me, Ellen.”
Touché, but she was forgetting who she was dealing with here. She was Ellen Tigh, queen of the sex toys, frak it! It was time to bring out the big guns.
“All right, you’ve impressed me. I’m woman enough to admit it.” Slipping away from Laura's clutches was more difficult than she expected, but sauntering over to her crate gave her enough time to remind herself just what this game was. This was merely a tactical retreat.
But maybe Ellen wanted her to what? If only to be able to look Bill Adama in the face and know that she had frakked Laura Roslin while he was off in space being oh-so-noble. Laura was still there, with the smug little smile that showed she was enjoying her victory. Ellen was certain she saw that smile flicker as Ellen turned around to show her the strap on and harness. Ellen’s own grin widened. “But you don’t want to take on the woman who has access to the Fleet's sex toys.”
If she had for one minute believed she would actually take her on, she would have made sure not to do it in a draughty cargo bay. Sure, it was private, but sadly lacking in comforts. She really should have put a fold away or something in there.
Still, it did add to the sordid thrill of the things, taking Laura up against the bulkhead, still half clothed. It should have been in the airlock. Damn, that was always the way of it, you think of these things after the event.
Oh well, not that Laura needed any more encouragement; biting her lip at first, Ellen took delight in encouraging more vocal responses from her. Ellen was not nearly so restrained, with each roll of her hips causing the base of the toy to rub in just the right place, wonderful design, she would have written to the manufacturers had they not been nuked into oblivion, Ellen let out a moan that echoed against the metal hull of the cargo ship.
Laura’s face was a picture, the way that careful control crumbled, making Ellen all the hotter. “That’s it sweetie, you can do it.” Her fingers moved between Laura’s legs, searching out her swollen clit. “Just let go.”
She didn’t cry out when she came, instead letting out a low moan deep in her throat that was surprisingly sexy.
“There you go.” Ellen managed to hiss out as she increased her pace, frak, that peaceful expression on her face, she would have to remember that when she savoured her victory. Arching her back, frak it, so close.
Opening her eyes just before falling over the edge, she saw Laura looking at her with indolent triumph. Then her vision whitened out, pleasure throbbing though her body and she was too far gone to care.
There was a certain amount of awkwardness to brazen out afterward, that brassy grin to get in place as she untangled the straps and pulled up her underwear while marvelling at the way Laura made herself presentable as if nothing inappropriate had happened.
All right, yes, she was impressed. But there was no way in Hades she was going to let the other woman know that.
“Well Laura, it’s been just lovely to see you,” she drawled, and Laura looked back at her with perfectly familiar aloofness.
“Ellen.”
“We should do this again sometime,” she said with a leer.
“I don’t think so.”
Ellen just laughed, and picking up the toy she slapped it into Laura’s hands before she could react. “A free sample,” she said sweetly. “Don’t let yourself get so uptight.” She thought she was going to refuse, perhaps she was thinking about it, but instead Laura tucked it away in those vast sleeves so quickly you wouldn’t have believed it had ever been there. Ellen had to laugh at that. “Goodbye, Laura. I do have some business to attend to.”
Bah, another day of not doing anything important. Say one thing about fleeing for your life from homicidal robots; at least it meant you always had something to do. The good captain was even missing the stress of running all the time. All right, perhaps not the stress. It did mean he got to keep what was left of his hair. And this little business arrangement with the Tigh woman, it did mean he could smoke and drink his troubles away. Pity he didn’t drink or smoke.
“Madame Pres- I mean, Miss Roslin.” Captain Andretti quickly snatched off his cap to hide his confusion as he met the ex-President at the hatchway.
“Captain, it’s nice to see you again,” she said, with a smile that could have been genuine.
Hmm, well, it was nice to see that this dump was agreeing with someone, though he couldn’t shake the feeling of being caught out. “What brings you here? No trouble I hope.”
“No, no trouble at all. Just a little bit of bartering.”
“Ah.” Ah indeed. He really didn’t want to know, did he? But his treacherous mouth was moving before he could stop it. “A good deal, I hope.”
“A steal.”