BSG fic: Just to Feel It's Out There, Kara/Laura
disclaimer: not mine.
pairings: Kara Thrace/Laura Roslin, Kara Thrace/Sam Anders, (vague Laura Roslin/Bill Adama)
length: a bit over 1000, I think?
rating: ..er, well, it was PG until I was editing it. *throws hands in air* Sort of R-ish. non-explicit girl!sex.
set: during New Caprica
notes: This was written for dashaky, on the occasion of her birthday. I pulled a prompt from that femslash porn battle, then wrote mostly-gen off of it. 'something has got to give' Title's a line from Cause and Effect's 'Crash'
Just to Feel It's Out There
by ALC Punk!
There was something in the air, filling the settlement with more than the normal level of tension. Kara walked through the streets, watching the shadows, the tents, as people shifted in and out of them; as people settled for the night. It was almost unrest, rumors of the Gods knew what, all down to President Baltar and his lamentably ridiculous policies.
Nights like this, Kara sometimes wondered why she'd settled down here, why she'd let herself be tied to a mildew-infested tent, a cot and a stove that never stayed properly lit.
Then again, she'd never really trusted that Baltar would be able to make things right. As crazy as he'd been, she was always surprised when one of his policies actually made sense--when she was paying attention to him, anyway.
Shoving her cold hands deeper into her pockets, Kara considered heading home. Sam would be off his shift, probably making dinner, he'd be happy to see her.
Her feet turned her away from their shared tent, though, and she followed a path she refused to acknowledge as familiar until she had a different tent in front of her. Knocking was pointless on flimsy flaps, and the settlers had begun working out their own methods for demanding entrance.
Kara kicked the stone that marked the entryway and still had dried mud on it. "Anyone home?"
There was rustling from inside, so someone was, though whether they wanted company was another matter entirely. It was still a good minute before the flap finally twitched and Laura Roslin looked out to find her there. The ex-President blinked tired eyes at Kara, then stepped back, "Oh, it's you."
A smirk crossed Kara's lips as Roslin let the flap fall and turned away without inviting her in. She pushed the canvas out of her way and went inside, anyway.
The interior was dim, a lone candle keeping the dusk at bay, the scent of old smoke and musty canvas almost choking until Kara got used to it. All of the tents were like this, some cobbled out of fabric that wasn't even durable enough to call canvas a cousin let alone last the winter everyone knew was coming.
"Some temperate zone, huh," Kara said, dropping down on Laura's rug, the one she'd been given by one of the farmers after she'd agreed to teach the children their letters and numbers. As though anyone had had to twist her leg.
Perching on the side of her cot, Laura raised her brows at Kara slightly. "Did you want something, Captain?"
Kara shifted, fingers twining around each other before she pulled her hands apart and set them on the rug, the scratch of the wool against her palms almost giving her something else to talk about. But that would be far too mundane. "The weather?" Kara suggested, her tone facetious, "I could want you to change it."
Fixing Kara with a glare, Roslin shook her head. "I had a visit today, Captain."
Captain again. Kara stilled her need to fidget like a small child called on the carpet and tried to look innocent, "You're a teacher, I'm sure you have lots of visits."
"Most of them are not budding social reformers bent on starting up a union and possibly over-throwing the government." Roslin sounded torn between amusement and exasperation. That was good. Kara could work with both.
"I'm not sure what that has to do with me."
The innocent tone did not work. Laura's mouth set in a line for a moment. Possibly to keep her lips from twitching. Possibly not. "Mr. Tyrol was very explicit as to whom had given him the idea, Captain. And I don't think there are two of you."
"Not enough planet." Kara leaned forward, her lips stretching into a smirk. "C'mon, Roslin. Admit it. You needed something to do."
"I'm a schoolteacher."
"You were a president."
"I lost." There was something set in stone in those words, and Roslin looked away, her playfulness gone.
Kara blew out a raspberry, "You were robbed." There had always been some reticence in Laura, when she talked about the election. Something she wasn't ready to admit to Kara. Maybe something she never would, and Kara was curiously all right with that. There were sides to people they didn't share, after all. And Kara certainly hid enough herself to recognize it in others.
The line didn't produce a smile. "Captain, was there a reason you had to disturb my peace?"
Moving, Kara got on her knees and shuffled to the cot, leaning her elbows on it. "Tonight?" she grinned and nudged Laura's leg with her arm. "Maybe I want to see you take over the world again."
That made Laura's lips twitch. She looked over at Kara and shook her head, though. "I'm getting too old for that, Captain."
"All right! I'm sorry I sent the Chief here without asking first." Kara hoped Roslin wouldn't press for more--she hadn't ever been very good at apologies; her usual motto was not to bother with them.
"That works better if you're not rolling your eyes as you say it, Kara."
Success! Trying not to grin, Kara shrugged, "Can't ask for everything, madame president."
"Ex."
Kara waved a hand and then poked Laura's knee. "So what do ex-presidents do for fun these days?"
For a moment, Laura studied her. Then she tilted her head a little, and let the weight of the conversation shift. "Live."
Licking her lips, Kara pushed up and leaned over, letting her mouth brush Laura's. "Think I can help with that." It wasn't the first time they had done this. Laura's hands cupped her face, and she kissed back. Kara doubted it would be the last.
It was complicated and different, stroking her hands on Laura's legs and under her blouse. There were things they would never talk about, people like the old man who would come between them if he ever decided that was his plan (although maybe Kara would be enough for Laura, but that was also not something she tried to think about).
But it was also simple, letting Laura's fingers pull at her hair, tangling in the scraggly wind-blown waves until Kara could hear Laura's cry, muffled by her thighs.
Sliding skin against skin, letting Laura coax her with hands and mouth, was almost too easy.
Afterwards, coming down, Kara kissed Laura's shoulder and slid out of the cot. Getting her clothes back on in the chilly room was almost too much of a penance for leaving the half-asleep woman behind her. But there were other loyalties pulling at her, another person who had a claim on her.
Not that Sam would come looking. Sometimes, Kara wished he would, wished things would come to a head or change. They would, eventually, when one of them pushed far enough, tried to hold on to too much. But until then, she could let Laura and Sam tangle themselves around her, filling the hollows in her until she was whole in some way.
Laura never needed to look for her, of course.
-f-
pairings: Kara Thrace/Laura Roslin, Kara Thrace/Sam Anders, (vague Laura Roslin/Bill Adama)
length: a bit over 1000, I think?
rating: ..er, well, it was PG until I was editing it. *throws hands in air* Sort of R-ish. non-explicit girl!sex.
set: during New Caprica
notes: This was written for dashaky, on the occasion of her birthday. I pulled a prompt from that femslash porn battle, then wrote mostly-gen off of it. 'something has got to give' Title's a line from Cause and Effect's 'Crash'
Just to Feel It's Out There
by ALC Punk!
There was something in the air, filling the settlement with more than the normal level of tension. Kara walked through the streets, watching the shadows, the tents, as people shifted in and out of them; as people settled for the night. It was almost unrest, rumors of the Gods knew what, all down to President Baltar and his lamentably ridiculous policies.
Nights like this, Kara sometimes wondered why she'd settled down here, why she'd let herself be tied to a mildew-infested tent, a cot and a stove that never stayed properly lit.
Then again, she'd never really trusted that Baltar would be able to make things right. As crazy as he'd been, she was always surprised when one of his policies actually made sense--when she was paying attention to him, anyway.
Shoving her cold hands deeper into her pockets, Kara considered heading home. Sam would be off his shift, probably making dinner, he'd be happy to see her.
Her feet turned her away from their shared tent, though, and she followed a path she refused to acknowledge as familiar until she had a different tent in front of her. Knocking was pointless on flimsy flaps, and the settlers had begun working out their own methods for demanding entrance.
Kara kicked the stone that marked the entryway and still had dried mud on it. "Anyone home?"
There was rustling from inside, so someone was, though whether they wanted company was another matter entirely. It was still a good minute before the flap finally twitched and Laura Roslin looked out to find her there. The ex-President blinked tired eyes at Kara, then stepped back, "Oh, it's you."
A smirk crossed Kara's lips as Roslin let the flap fall and turned away without inviting her in. She pushed the canvas out of her way and went inside, anyway.
The interior was dim, a lone candle keeping the dusk at bay, the scent of old smoke and musty canvas almost choking until Kara got used to it. All of the tents were like this, some cobbled out of fabric that wasn't even durable enough to call canvas a cousin let alone last the winter everyone knew was coming.
"Some temperate zone, huh," Kara said, dropping down on Laura's rug, the one she'd been given by one of the farmers after she'd agreed to teach the children their letters and numbers. As though anyone had had to twist her leg.
Perching on the side of her cot, Laura raised her brows at Kara slightly. "Did you want something, Captain?"
Kara shifted, fingers twining around each other before she pulled her hands apart and set them on the rug, the scratch of the wool against her palms almost giving her something else to talk about. But that would be far too mundane. "The weather?" Kara suggested, her tone facetious, "I could want you to change it."
Fixing Kara with a glare, Roslin shook her head. "I had a visit today, Captain."
Captain again. Kara stilled her need to fidget like a small child called on the carpet and tried to look innocent, "You're a teacher, I'm sure you have lots of visits."
"Most of them are not budding social reformers bent on starting up a union and possibly over-throwing the government." Roslin sounded torn between amusement and exasperation. That was good. Kara could work with both.
"I'm not sure what that has to do with me."
The innocent tone did not work. Laura's mouth set in a line for a moment. Possibly to keep her lips from twitching. Possibly not. "Mr. Tyrol was very explicit as to whom had given him the idea, Captain. And I don't think there are two of you."
"Not enough planet." Kara leaned forward, her lips stretching into a smirk. "C'mon, Roslin. Admit it. You needed something to do."
"I'm a schoolteacher."
"You were a president."
"I lost." There was something set in stone in those words, and Roslin looked away, her playfulness gone.
Kara blew out a raspberry, "You were robbed." There had always been some reticence in Laura, when she talked about the election. Something she wasn't ready to admit to Kara. Maybe something she never would, and Kara was curiously all right with that. There were sides to people they didn't share, after all. And Kara certainly hid enough herself to recognize it in others.
The line didn't produce a smile. "Captain, was there a reason you had to disturb my peace?"
Moving, Kara got on her knees and shuffled to the cot, leaning her elbows on it. "Tonight?" she grinned and nudged Laura's leg with her arm. "Maybe I want to see you take over the world again."
That made Laura's lips twitch. She looked over at Kara and shook her head, though. "I'm getting too old for that, Captain."
"All right! I'm sorry I sent the Chief here without asking first." Kara hoped Roslin wouldn't press for more--she hadn't ever been very good at apologies; her usual motto was not to bother with them.
"That works better if you're not rolling your eyes as you say it, Kara."
Success! Trying not to grin, Kara shrugged, "Can't ask for everything, madame president."
"Ex."
Kara waved a hand and then poked Laura's knee. "So what do ex-presidents do for fun these days?"
For a moment, Laura studied her. Then she tilted her head a little, and let the weight of the conversation shift. "Live."
Licking her lips, Kara pushed up and leaned over, letting her mouth brush Laura's. "Think I can help with that." It wasn't the first time they had done this. Laura's hands cupped her face, and she kissed back. Kara doubted it would be the last.
It was complicated and different, stroking her hands on Laura's legs and under her blouse. There were things they would never talk about, people like the old man who would come between them if he ever decided that was his plan (although maybe Kara would be enough for Laura, but that was also not something she tried to think about).
But it was also simple, letting Laura's fingers pull at her hair, tangling in the scraggly wind-blown waves until Kara could hear Laura's cry, muffled by her thighs.
Sliding skin against skin, letting Laura coax her with hands and mouth, was almost too easy.
Afterwards, coming down, Kara kissed Laura's shoulder and slid out of the cot. Getting her clothes back on in the chilly room was almost too much of a penance for leaving the half-asleep woman behind her. But there were other loyalties pulling at her, another person who had a claim on her.
Not that Sam would come looking. Sometimes, Kara wished he would, wished things would come to a head or change. They would, eventually, when one of them pushed far enough, tried to hold on to too much. But until then, she could let Laura and Sam tangle themselves around her, filling the hollows in her until she was whole in some way.
Laura never needed to look for her, of course.
-f-