steam heat (roslin/starbuck, pg)
title: steam heat
author: ellen m,
quasiradiant
for:
tellitslant, getyourtoaster round 1
rating: pg (sorry!)
words: ~815
summary: atypical conference rooms.
The door swings open with this big, creaky noise from the water doing its work on the hinges. Steam licks its way out, up to the ceiling, and Roslin thinks a little distastefully of how it's going to curl her hair. She steps over the threshold while Billy hangs back, a clipboard with the president's schedule leaning against his forearm. She says, "This'll only take a moment," and he half raises his eyebrows and sort of smirks, which she finds kind of cute.
Her shoes hit the damp deck plates with a little click-splash, and she tries very hard not to wet her stockings. The hard metal walls make the sound of the showers echo and there's a lot of loud chatter from the pilots just off their vipers, a little adrenaline high even without any kind of Cylon activity.
"Lieutenant Thrace?" Roslin says, quite reasonably, but with all the noise she knows there's no way Kara could possibly hear her. She maybe just wants the excuse to walk around the room divider -- an attempt at modesty by some designer -- right into the main shower area. It's entirely improper, the president waltzing in while a group of her pilots are stark naked and blowing off steam. She does it anyway.
Kara's back is long and wet, and her hair is stuck against her neck. "Thrace!" she says, too sharply considering that the girl doesn't even know she's there. What she expects is that Kara will jump, maybe to attention but at least out of surprise. Instead, Kara cocks her hip so that Roslin can't help but let her eyes trail down to Kara's ass and Kara's wet thighs. Roslin imagines Kara's smiling that smug little smile Kara enjoys so much.
Kara turns, slowly. Roslin flicks a glance at the other pilots who have decided, apparently, to congregate in the back, as far from the president as possible, as Roslin's blocking the only way out. She recognizes Katraine, who's obviously laughing at one of the others, a slender-hipped boy with his back turned and his shoulders blushing red.
"I seem to have come at a bad time," Roslin says, arms crossed under her breasts. She gestures back towards the other pilots with her chin.
"Nah, it's great," Kara says, hands on her hips. She doesn't turn the water off, just lets it hit her and doesn't pay attention to the way it slides down her arm and then down her thigh. "They like being wet and naked around authority figures."
Roslin looks over at the others. “It appears that you're the only one enjoying it, Lieutenant," Roslin says, almost managing not to smirk.
Kara looks back over her shoulder, and Roslin thinks she might be winking at Katraine. When she looks back, she says, “Yeah. Okay. You might be right.” Kara reaches over for the bottle of shampoo, pours a little into her palm. “Can I do something for you, sir?” she asks, raising her hands to her hair.
“I heard about your little stunt yesterday,” Roslin says, frowning, as Kara works the shampoo into a lather and somewhere behind Kara, Katraine makes what appears to be a lewd gesture for one of the other pilots, the meaning of which is clear enough.
“I’m guessing,” Kara says, a few soap bubbles slicking down her chest, “that you aren’t here to express your admiration. At least, not for my skills in the cockpit.”
“Bravado gets people killed, Lieutenant,” Roslin says sternly, hands on her hips, looking down her nose at Kara. “I’d hoped you’d learned that by now.”
Kara leans back to rinse her hair under the spray. “That couldn’t have waited ten minutes, ‘til I was back in my uniform?”
Roslin smiles tightly. “Tight schedule, you know. I am the president.”
“Sure are,” Kara agrees easily. She lowers her voice so that the others won’t be able to hear, and says, grinning, “Then again, maybe seeing me out of uniform was the whole point.”
Roslin raises an eyebrow. “I think you overestimate my interest in you.”
Kara laughs at that, this big, boisterous sound that’s loud in the shower and makes the red-shouldered kid jump like shots had been fired. “If you say so. Sir. Is that all?”
“Yes, thank you, Lieutenant.” She pauses and then says, “Carry on.”
Kara salutes lazily, flicks a little water onto Roslin’s jacket. “Yessir,” she says, and then, “Have a nice day!”
As Roslin’s leaving, she hears one of the others say, “Starbuck! I cannot believe you!”
“Hey, I can’t help it,” Kara says, “if the president’s hot for me. Can you blame her?” And then there’s the sound of splashing and laughter and maybe somebody getting pushed and Roslin wants to laugh along but doesn’t.
At the door, Billy asks, “Everything go all right?”
“Mhm,” Roslin says, finally allowing herself a smile as she turns away. “What’s next?”
author: ellen m,
quasiradiant
for:
tellitslant, getyourtoaster round 1
rating: pg (sorry!)
words: ~815
summary: atypical conference rooms.
The door swings open with this big, creaky noise from the water doing its work on the hinges. Steam licks its way out, up to the ceiling, and Roslin thinks a little distastefully of how it's going to curl her hair. She steps over the threshold while Billy hangs back, a clipboard with the president's schedule leaning against his forearm. She says, "This'll only take a moment," and he half raises his eyebrows and sort of smirks, which she finds kind of cute.
Her shoes hit the damp deck plates with a little click-splash, and she tries very hard not to wet her stockings. The hard metal walls make the sound of the showers echo and there's a lot of loud chatter from the pilots just off their vipers, a little adrenaline high even without any kind of Cylon activity.
"Lieutenant Thrace?" Roslin says, quite reasonably, but with all the noise she knows there's no way Kara could possibly hear her. She maybe just wants the excuse to walk around the room divider -- an attempt at modesty by some designer -- right into the main shower area. It's entirely improper, the president waltzing in while a group of her pilots are stark naked and blowing off steam. She does it anyway.
Kara's back is long and wet, and her hair is stuck against her neck. "Thrace!" she says, too sharply considering that the girl doesn't even know she's there. What she expects is that Kara will jump, maybe to attention but at least out of surprise. Instead, Kara cocks her hip so that Roslin can't help but let her eyes trail down to Kara's ass and Kara's wet thighs. Roslin imagines Kara's smiling that smug little smile Kara enjoys so much.
Kara turns, slowly. Roslin flicks a glance at the other pilots who have decided, apparently, to congregate in the back, as far from the president as possible, as Roslin's blocking the only way out. She recognizes Katraine, who's obviously laughing at one of the others, a slender-hipped boy with his back turned and his shoulders blushing red.
"I seem to have come at a bad time," Roslin says, arms crossed under her breasts. She gestures back towards the other pilots with her chin.
"Nah, it's great," Kara says, hands on her hips. She doesn't turn the water off, just lets it hit her and doesn't pay attention to the way it slides down her arm and then down her thigh. "They like being wet and naked around authority figures."
Roslin looks over at the others. “It appears that you're the only one enjoying it, Lieutenant," Roslin says, almost managing not to smirk.
Kara looks back over her shoulder, and Roslin thinks she might be winking at Katraine. When she looks back, she says, “Yeah. Okay. You might be right.” Kara reaches over for the bottle of shampoo, pours a little into her palm. “Can I do something for you, sir?” she asks, raising her hands to her hair.
“I heard about your little stunt yesterday,” Roslin says, frowning, as Kara works the shampoo into a lather and somewhere behind Kara, Katraine makes what appears to be a lewd gesture for one of the other pilots, the meaning of which is clear enough.
“I’m guessing,” Kara says, a few soap bubbles slicking down her chest, “that you aren’t here to express your admiration. At least, not for my skills in the cockpit.”
“Bravado gets people killed, Lieutenant,” Roslin says sternly, hands on her hips, looking down her nose at Kara. “I’d hoped you’d learned that by now.”
Kara leans back to rinse her hair under the spray. “That couldn’t have waited ten minutes, ‘til I was back in my uniform?”
Roslin smiles tightly. “Tight schedule, you know. I am the president.”
“Sure are,” Kara agrees easily. She lowers her voice so that the others won’t be able to hear, and says, grinning, “Then again, maybe seeing me out of uniform was the whole point.”
Roslin raises an eyebrow. “I think you overestimate my interest in you.”
Kara laughs at that, this big, boisterous sound that’s loud in the shower and makes the red-shouldered kid jump like shots had been fired. “If you say so. Sir. Is that all?”
“Yes, thank you, Lieutenant.” She pauses and then says, “Carry on.”
Kara salutes lazily, flicks a little water onto Roslin’s jacket. “Yessir,” she says, and then, “Have a nice day!”
As Roslin’s leaving, she hears one of the others say, “Starbuck! I cannot believe you!”
“Hey, I can’t help it,” Kara says, “if the president’s hot for me. Can you blame her?” And then there’s the sound of splashing and laughter and maybe somebody getting pushed and Roslin wants to laugh along but doesn’t.
At the door, Billy asks, “Everything go all right?”
“Mhm,” Roslin says, finally allowing herself a smile as she turns away. “What’s next?”