Innocent Games [BSG; Adama/Roslin]

[regalish]

TITLE: Innocent Games
FANDOM: Battlestar Galactica
PAIRING: Adama/Roslin
SPOILERS: None, specifically, though it's set in the season 3 'verse, post-Unfinished Business.
RATING: Was going for R at first, but they kinda got away from me, soooo.... NC-17.
SUMMARY: He was finally at a place where he could admit to himself, he wanted to get underneath that facade of innocence.

*****

"You really think I'm that innocent, huh Bill?"

"What?" He glanced up to see her in her favorite lounging spot on Colonial One, tilting her head at him in that way of hers and smiling slowly. He took another sip of the wine she'd offered him, peeking up again to see her watching him over the rim of her glass.

Setting it down, her smile now was mischievous. "I said, you really think I'm that innocent?"

Not in the slightest. Laura Roslin could play the innocent role very easily -- her beauty, charm, and the softness of her voice was enough to set her into that role. But Bill knew beneath the surface, she was anything but innocent. That driven, passionate side he could see emerge from time to time, he knew, could easily carry over into more intimate settings. And he was finally at a place where he could admit to himself, he wanted to get underneath that facade of innocence; he wanted to get to the real Laura Roslin.

So outwardly, he chuckled, taking her bait willingly. "Well, let's see. You've got that never-ending optimism, your naive moments, you've been known to get the giggles..." He trailed off, nodding as he glanced up at her with a grin. "Yeah, I'd say you're pretty innocent in my book."

Game...

"Hmm." Her eyebrows flicked upward as she took another drink of wine, her words coming out slow, languid. "So you're telling me that underneath this naive, optimistic exterior, you don't think there's a slight chance I might be a little bit of a bad girl?"

The way her lips curled into a smirk at the term 'bad girl' set his blood boiling. No backing down now. "Not a chance."

Set...

Her lips slowly spread into a grin, and he watched as a certain twinkle lit the greens of her eyes. "Good to know," she murmured, pulling her glasses off and rising to go to her desk.

Match.

Bill cocked his head as he studied her, watching her open a file folder and grab a pen, toeing off her pumps under the desk. Her toes moved through the carpeting in an almost mesmerizing way, and he knew the wheels were turning in her head. He knew she was formulating a game plan, a strategy, and well... Bill Adama loved a good strategy.

"Bill?"

"Yeah." He snapped his head up to look at her, half-hoping he hadn't just been caught ogling the president's dynamite legs. She'd know he was toying with her.

But no. Luckily, her gaze had been on the documents in front of her. She raised her eyes to his, blinked, and told him, "Thank you for joining me for a drink tonight."

He inclined his head cordially. "Pleasure was all mine," he rasped into his glass, and finished off his wine quickly before standing up. After a brief head rush, he had recovered, and looked down at Laura as she put her glasses back on, tucking some of her thick, gently curled red hair behind one ear.

Suddenly he felt nervous, and couldn't quite pinpoint why. He wanted to play this game with her, wanted to see where it would lead... no sense getting cold feet now. "Uh... there's a debriefing tomorrow, at 1700."

She nodded. "Sounds good."

"So I'll see you there?" He asked, and turned to leave as she nodded once more.

"You can count on it," she returned, and that edge was back in her voice, enough to get him to pause in the doorway, his back to her.

Maybe he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

*****

After the debriefing, he found himself in his quarters with the president, the two of them poring over paperwork at her behest. After the third time he heard her tsking, he couldn't help but look up. "What?"

"Admiral," she sighed. "Admiral, Admiral, Admiral."

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Madam President?" Then, her soft giggle drew his attention.

"Where in the universe did you learn penmanship?" She held up one of the documents, rising from his couch. "I can barely make this out."

Placing the document in front of him, she pressed her palms against his desk, leaning into them. "Look at this."

He shifted his eyes over to the document, glimpsing quickly. "I can read it just fine."

Another musical giggle, then, "Of course you can, it's your writing. How am I supposed to make head or tail of it?"

That was when he chanced a glance over at her, and found her cleavage right at eye level, encased in something satiny and lacy beneath her buttoned suit jacket. Satiny, lacy, and deep red. He shut his eyes for a moment, recalling the last time he'd seen her in red.

Clearing his throat quickly, he bounced his eyes back to the paper just as she started to look down at him. "Apologies, Madam President," he rasped. "Would you prefer I type my reports instead?"

Grinning, she nudged his shoulder with hers, still leaning down to him. "Either that, or maybe give me a crash course on the language of Bill Adama."

Another glimpse at her, another glimpse of nothing but satin-and-lace encased flesh. When he dragged his eyes up to hers, he found one corner of her lips tilting upward in a smirk. Quirking one perfectly sculpted brow, she asked, "Something wrong, Bill?"

There was something about the tone of her voice. Lilting... melodic, almost coy. The game was starting.

"Of course not," he answered, cutting his eyes away, adding in a low murmur, "Laura," partly because it was his nature after she'd use his name, and partly because he loved the way her name tasted on his tongue.

She hummed a soft chuckle in response, "Good," and then hopped up on his desk, just to his right. "Now, I think I'll need some help reading what's on this form. Unless you'd be willing to take a quick penmanship lesson?"

A motion in his periphery drew his attention, and he looked over to see her crossing one leg over the other, slowly, almost as if the move had been calculated. He drew his eyes up to hers to see her tilting her head at him, smiling ever-so-innocently.

Innocent his ass. Time to take the game to the next level.

"A penmanship lesson sounds fine. I'm an excellent student." He let his eyes burn into hers, let his voice dip low, as he stood up to grab a drink. And as he moved away, he enjoyed the brief look of surprise on her face. If he had no idea what he was getting into, neither did she.

He came back to her with two glasses of scotch, and held one out to her. Their eyes met as they took a sip, and for a moment it was as if they were back on New Caprica. That day was often on his mind... never far from it, actually, as it was one of the best of his life. The sight of her in that red dress, the feel of her body curled against his and her head on his shoulder, the sound of her giggles, the light scent of her shampoo and the taste of alcohol and smoke on his tongue. Yes, that had definitely been one of his best days and nights. And now, it was difficult to get it from his head.

Perhaps that was why he found himself so readily engaging in this game with her. In this dance. That night stirred in him something he'd been fighting, but could no longer keep it from reaching the surface. He'd seen a new side to Laura Roslin, saw a glimpse of the flirtatious, sexy realist underneath the shell of a naive, beautiful dreamer. He wanted to bring that side into the open completely, strip her of her defenses, of that innocent facade (and he wouldn't exactly mind stripping her of other things in the process if that was what the game called for); he wanted to open her up. And then, possibly... make her his.

She tilted her head downward just slightly, eyeing him through her lashes as she continued to sip at her scotch. They twitched to a narrow just briefly, contemplating him, his motives and strategies, before she smiled and looked away, setting down her glass. "So."

He smiled. "So." Her voice was like a caress; he could already feel it making its way under his layers of military-issue clothing, through his skin and straight to the heart, like she shot him with that damned arrow she sent Kara after, a few lifetimes ago.

"A penmanship lesson is called for, then?"

"If you think you can teach me." He quirked a brow and set his glass beside hers, watching as she shifted on his desk, hands curled around the edge bracing her while she uncrossed her legs, and crossed the opposite way.

Her head tilted once more and she gave him a little grin, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that made his heart reach out for her. "Bill," she murmured, and her voice was thick like the scotch currently coating their stomachs. "As stubborn as you are, there are plenty of things I could teach you."

He took a few steps toward her, her smokey tone upping the game yet another level. He had no intention of backing down from the silent challenge. "Is that right." It was neither a statement nor a question, and he leaned his fists on the polished desktop, just inches to each side of her thighs.

Bill could have sworn he heard a swift intake of breath, but when their eyes met, her face betrayed nothing. The game was on and neither of them were going to back down. As it always was with them, this would be a battle of wills until they got to the finish line.

"Mm-hmm," she murmured, and he could feel the warmth in her voice trickle down his spine. "Now, what I typically do is have my student practice writing letters with his fingers -- in the air, or on some other surface. The student must keep his movements slow... controlled... in order to come away with something legible."

He nodded. "I see." Yes, he was shattering that facade of innocence, but the game didn't seem to be about that anymore. They both seemed to have cast that little challenge aside, in lieu of something much more powerful beginning to take shape. "How about this then?"

Just inches away from her left thigh, he began to scrawl invisible letters against the surface of his desk, signing his first name with one finger. He felt her smile and saw it in his peripheral vision, a soft giggle following soon after.

"Too fast," she chided, and his skin nearly jumped clean off of him when she reached down and gripped his hand. With soft, nimble fingers, she coaxed his back into position -- index out and the rest curled into his palm. Her voice dipped to a downright dangerous whisper as she told him, "Again. Slowly."

He flicked his eyes up to hers, checking to see if she was backing down yet; the smoldering look he got in return told him all he needed to know. So once more, he began to scrawl his name into the surface of his desk, the 'M' and the 'A' in 'Adama' ending up dangerously close to touching the fabric of her skirt.

He watched as she pressed her lips together tightly, recovering in a mere second before she smiled. "Good." With a flirty grin on her lips and in her tone, she told him, "But you were writing in the wrong direction."

"Really." He tipped his head in the opposite direction of hers. "Kinda felt like I was moving in the right one."

Their eyes locked, searched, looked for misguided intents. Finding none on either side, they moved the game forward. "Watch me," she murmured, her hand finding his chest.

He followed the motion with his head and eyes, feeling the warmth of her hand spreading through his clothing, burning his skin. Her fingers curled against him, slightly, just like on New Caprica, before she began to move her fingers in a pattern, soft voice sounding out the letters. "B... I... L... L."

When their eyes met again, she smiled sweetly, though the smile was still far from innocent. "See? Slow... controlled."

He nodded, eyes narrowing slightly as he contemplated just diving in. It seemed they both were beyond the point of tiptoeing. "So it's all about control."

A spark lit her eyes, and she nodded. "Exactly." Tilting her head once more to the other side, Laura laid down her challenge. "So what're you waiting for, Bill? Take control."

He drew in a long breath, feeling his pulse pounding, feeling the blood rushing in his ears and wanting so badly to just slam her down on the desk and take her. To hike up her skirt, toss her glasses aside, and just steal all of that control away from her in one breath.

Instead, he glanced down at his chest; he took her hand, turned it over, and faced her palm toward the ceiling. With slow, controlled movements like she required, he scrawled against the creases in her palm, sounding out the letters as he went. "L... A... U... R... A." He made the final 'A' against the pulse point at the underside of her wrist, and felt her hand give a slight tremble.

There was no mistaking this shaky breath she now inhaled, as their eyes were drawn back to each other. Now, there was a fire in hers as she breathed, "Again," and took off her glasses, casting them aside and setting them on the pile of documents still awaiting their pens.

Bill grinned, knowing they had each other right where they wanted. So he began his penmanship practice again. "L," as his finger formed the letter on her bare knee, "A," against the curve of her hip while he smiled at her little gasp, "U" tracing around her elbow while her other hand gripped his arm and pulled him in, "R," brushing her exposed collarbone as her head started to tilt back, and one last "A" against the side of her neck before he leaned in and pressed his lips to the same spot.

Her arms immediately came up to clasp him to her, "Bill," as she gasped his name, and he wound his arms around her waist, kissing her neck fervently. His hands came up to her shoulders, brushed her hair back as his lips stole across her jawline, up her chin and finally to her lips, swallowing her muffled exclamation.

Her hands fell gently against his face, cupping him and pulling him in as if he could get his lips any closer. A clash of tongues and teeth were next as they battled one another, Laura fighting to hang on to her last threads of control while Bill did what he could to yank them away from her.

Before he knew it, her legs were wrapped around his waist and they were kissing hungrily, moving against each other brazenly; the coarse battle of fabric against fabric suddenly ungodsly irritating. Pulling back from her lips audibly, he took a split-second to search her eyes for any hint of hesitation. Finding none, he reached down and popped open the large, singular button of her fitted suit jacket, pushing it roughly down her arms and pinning them behind her in the process while he pressed his lips to her throat, feeling the thrum of her pulse beneath.

A low moan escaped her lips and she curled herself into him, hair falling across his shoulder while her arms struggled to free themselves -- to get rid of the jacket as quickly as she could. Once it had been cast aside, she tossed her hair and reached for his face, pulling him in for another kiss. But he stopped just inches away, his eyes elsewhere.

Red satin and lace filled his line of vision as he took in what she'd been wearing beneath that suit jacket. The satin disappeared into the waistband of her skirt, and he lifted his eyes to hers, pondering just divesting her of everything.

The giggle Laura hummed this time was just a little bit wicked in nature. "It's a teddy, Bill," she said, whisper-soft, and pulled him in with a hand on the back of his neck. When their lips were mere millimeters from touching, she met his eyes again and flicked her brows upward, teasing with a grin, "How's that for innocent?" before kissing him again.

He groaned against her lips when she tightened her legs around his waist, pulling herself closer to the edge of the desk... closer to him. He kept his hands on her hips, trembling with the exertion of holding back. He wanted to tear the skirt off of her, throw her against the wall and just frak her senseless; but there was still that part of him that hesitated, not wanting to come on too strong.

So Laura stole the opportunity to take back her control. She gripped his hands and slid them down her thighs until they reached the hem of her skirt. Taking the hint, he skimmed his hands back up the flesh of her thighs and took her skirt along for the ride before he reached around for the clasp. In a flash of motion, he'd whipped the skirt down her legs and tossed it onto his chair. Then, she slid back further onto the desk, pushing folders and papers out of her way, pens and paperweights clattering to the floor as he crawled over her.

"You're far too overdressed for this occasion, Admiral," she breathed.

He smiled down at her, fingering the lush auburn waves fanned around her head. "Forgive me, Madam President. I'll remedy that situation right away."

She giggled. "Please do."

He smiled at her flirtatiously as he unabashedly undressed in front of her, watching as she propped herself up on her elbows, her eyes following the motion of his fingers while he unbuttoned his jacket. Next went his standard-issue tank tops, and when he reached for his belt, she sat up with a quick, "No!"

Bill met her eyes, questioning silently, and she grinned, pulling him in for another kiss. "You don't get to have all the fun."

He chuckled, but sucked in his breath quickly when her hands slid down his bare chest and hooked into the waistband of his pants, fingertips teasing the skin beneath his abdomen. Her fingers worked quickly, but smoothly, unbuckling his belt and then going for the button and zipper. He helped her push the confining article past his hips until they landed at his ankles.

If the moment weren't so heavy, he would've laughed. There he was, Admiral of the Colonial Fleet, in his quarters alongside the lingerie-clad President, with his pants around his ankles. Under normal circumstances, this would have 'Human Resources nightmare' written all over it.

But this was war.

Laura's fingers teased the waistband of his boxers and he gripped her hips roughly, pulling her toward him and loving her high-pitched yelp of surprise. She gripped the desk before she could fall off and locked her ankles together around his backside, pulling him even closer. The sharp points of her high heels dug into him, but he couldn't have cared less.

Moments later, she kicked the shoes off anyway and stretched up to kiss him, and he dug his fingers into her hips as he lifted her up, pulling her flush against him. Their lips found each other as he stumbled around his quarters, holding her up while trying not to trip on the pants that were still caught around his ankles.

She giggled against his lips and he swallowed the sound, chuckling when they landed against the wall. She moaned, despite the back of her head thumping into the wall, and she reached one arm up behind her to act as a brace while he moved his lips to her neck. Her chest was heaving, her skin flushed -- they'd been playing games with each other all day, and hell, maybe since they met -- she was tired of it. "Need you, Bill."

"Got me, Laura," he returned, and wrapped his arms tight around her, hugging her close while he spun them away from the wall and laid her down on his bunk. She sighed at the gentleness he exhibited as he gently rested her against the mattress, and she smiled as she slid up toward the pillows, watching him kick off his shoes, pants, and socks.

Bill returned to her then, stretching out beside her and sliding a hand across her satin-covered stomach as he leaned down to kiss her. She sighed at the tenderness in his kiss, opening her lips beneath him to let him in.

And though the kisses began as tender, affectionate, languid... they soon turned to hungry, deep, and aggressive. The battle was heating up again. She locked her knees against his hips while his hand slid up her thigh, taking the hem of her teddy with it.

He moaned when he reached the lace waistband of her underwear, and stroked his hand across it, dipping a couple teasing fingers inside until she arched up into him, moving against his hand. Her head lolled to the side and she moaned his name; he dropped a few kisses to her neck in answer before peeling the underwear down those dynamite legs of hers, and off.

Before the scrap of satin had hit the floor, their lips were crashing together again, and Laura used whatever momentum she could find to lock her knees tighter against him, reversing their position in one quick motion, until she settled against his stomach.

He sighed deeply as she ran her hand down his chest, fingers toying with his dog tags briefly before making their way down his abdomen. When they skimmed across the waistband of his boxers again, he slid a hand up her arm, to the thin spaghetti straps holding her teddy in place.

"Shouldn't we get rid of this?" he rasped, and then cocked his head, grinning. "Not that you don't look sensational."

Laura giggled, leaning over to kiss him, murmuring against his lips, "No more time for that."

She shimmied his boxers down just far enough then and rose up on her knees, holding his gaze as she slowly took him in. He let out his breath and grasped her hips, trying to push her down but, stubborn as she was, she held strong and continued to torture him by lowering herself slowly.

Soon, she surrounded him completely, her warmth spreading through every inch of his body, and he groaned as she began to rock her hips. Her head tipped back, a moan escaping her lips as her hands found his chest again. When their eyes locked once more, she exhaled a brilliant smile, one that filled his heart to the brim.

He loved her. Now wasn't the right time to tell her -- lust and want were the main emotions at play here tonight, but someday... soon, hopefully, he would tell her. He would tell her he started to fall when she gave him his wings. He would tell her he was almost certain he was in love on New Caprica. He'd tell her that tonight, when she smiled at him just seconds ago, he knew for sure.

"Bill..." she moaned, leaning down for a kiss, and he cupped her face while he captured her lips passionately.

Her rhythm faltered as she got nearer and nearer to the edge, and he braced his hands against her hips, steadying her and helping her to move. Her moans and cries became more frantic, and he winced when she dug her fingernails into his chest.

She seemed to have noticed right away, because she slowed her hips and leaned down to press kisses to the pink crescent-shaped marks. "Sorry."

He chuckled. "Battle wounds, what can ya do," and grinned all the wider at the sound of her laugh.

Her fingers became softer against his chest, tripping over it in nonsensical patterns until Bill realized... it wasn't nonsensical at all. And then he could feel the warmth of the letters she was tracing into him, silently listing them off: L... A... U... R... A.

Five letters, right over his heart, invisible to the eye but branding him permanently. He was hers for as long as she wanted him. "Laura," he murmured, and cupped her neck, bringing her bright smiling lips back down onto his.

As they kissed languidly, he slid one hand around to her back, under the hem of her teddy and up until it rested in the curve at the small of her back. He let his fingers make their own invisible, permanent mark.

Laura hummed against him, her voice a warm, honeyed alto as she listed off, "B... I... L... L."

She was his.

"Hope you never taught any of your other students like this," he teased, and grinned when she chuckled.

She shook her head, red waves messy and unkempt now. He'd never seen such gorgeous hair on a woman before. "Nope," she assured him, and her voice softened as she rested her palm over his heart. "Only you."

Bill smiled at that and sat up, stilling her in his lap and wrapping his arms around her small frame. Pressing his lips to her neck, he left fervent, open-mouthed kisses while he slowly turned them around so it was her lying against the pillows, all the while never breaking their connection.

She sighed when he settled against her, whimpering when he sank a little deeper within. He set a quick pace from there, the desire coursing through them too much now to allow for gentleness and leisure. Her hips moved in tandem with his, keeping up with his pace while she pulled on his dog tags so tightly he thought she'd rip them clean off his neck; her back arched sharply as he dragged her closer and closer to the edge, finally sending her tipping over it into bliss.

The sound of his name on her lips when she reached the height of passion was almost too much to bear, coupled with the feel of her release. His pace faltered; his arms trembled from bracing himself over her, and moments later he'd followed her over the edge, her name sliding from him in a gruff whisper while he shuddered.

They collapsed together, arms twining tight before Bill gently rolled onto his side, pulling up his boxers before dragging the threadbare blanket over them. Laura had her eyes closed, still attempting to regain her breath, one hand over her wildly-thudding heart.

"Amazing," she breathed, smiling as he kissed her shoulder.

"Can't argue with you there."

She grinned. "Now there's a first," and wrinkled her nose in laughter when he smirked.

After pressing a quick kiss to her adorably crinkled nose, he pulled her against him, helping her head find a comfortable place against his shoulder while he ran his fingers through her hair. "So."

"So."

"Did I pass the lesson?"

She giggled. "Yes, I'd say you passed with flying colors. You were an excellent student."

"Thank you, though I can't take all the credit." Off her look, he added, "I had a dynamite teacher."

She snuggled a little further against him, her hand sliding across his chest before she propped her chin on him, meeting his gaze. A slow smirk curled her lips as she drawled lazily, "Still think I'm innocent?"

He chuckled, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Never thought you were in the first place."

Laura sat up, mouth agape in surprise. "Admiral Adama, did you trick me?"

Bill sat up beside her, hands pressing back into the bed to prop himself up. "Well Madam President, I believe it was you that started the game. I merely accepted your challenge."

She narrowed her eyes at him, studying him before she dissolved into another smirk. "So we've been playing games with each other this whole time."

"I'd say so. Longer than tonight, though."

"Then who won?" She tilted her head, sex-tousled hair sliding across her shoulders.

Chuckling lightly, he leaned in for a kiss before laying back against the pillows once more, bringing her with him. "I'd say we both did."

Laura hummed a little chuckle, nestling against him once more and pressing a kiss to his heart as she murmured, "So it's a tie."

"Yep. It's a tie."

FIN

Like what you've read? Why don't you watch or join the community?

{x-posted to adama_roslin}