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singerdiva01Title: Movers and Shakers
Rating: MA
Word Count: 1891
Pairing: Kara/Laura
Summary: On Kobol, Kara finds out Laura Roslin isn't as fragile or as innocent as she seems.
A/N: Ok, I the author fully admit this isn't really in character for Laura, especially at this point in canon, but this PWP is what she and Kara wanted to do during my conference call. Blame them. (Kara says blame Laura.)
“Really, I’m fine. You don’t have carry me, Lee, I just got a little dizzy.”
Kara heard the humiliation in Laura Roslin’s voice as Lee carried her into the tent and laid her gently onto the blankets the other soldiers had made into a makeshift bed for their leader.
She watched as he tucked them tightly around the president, fussing with the fabric far more than necessary.
“It’s alright, ma’am, you need your rest. Starbuck will stay here until you’re asleep. I’ll be on watch outside,” he said softly with a pat of the blanket somewhere near Roslin’s hand before nodding resolutely at Kara and moving toward the exit.
Kara acknowledged her orders absently as he swung back the flap. She was more interested in her commander in chief and the way she’d flopped back onto the pillow with a pained expression on her pale face.
“I can deck him for you,” she offered baldly, mentally pausing only for a moment to consider the consequences if she’d read the situation incorrectly.
Roslin’s eyes shot open and she eyed Kara for a few terrifying seconds. Then she burst into entirely unexpected, unpresidential giggles, her whole body shaking with the force of her amusement.
“Oh, Gods, I needed that, she breathed as she regained control. She patted the blanket by her side. “Come over here.”
Kara stood and crossed the short distance to sit herself down gingerly next to the older woman. Even though she’d been invited she wasn’t entirely sure how close she was allowed to get to the president turned prophet.
Roslin didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. She propped herself up on one elbow and fixed her gaze on Kara’s face.
“I thought there was something going on between you and Captain Apollo.”
It was a statement but her eyes told Kara it was a question and she realized Roslin was expecting a juicy answer.
She smirked as a quip about this being the strangest slumber party ever -- humanity’s savior and an insubordinate Viper pilot talking about boys in a tent on the planet of the Gods -- flitted across her mind. She’d later tell herself that’s why she thought even less about her words than usual before answering.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed he’s not bad to look at and he’s a pretty good frak. Of course not up his ass because the stick’s wedged so far up…” she trailed off as Roslin’s eyes widened.
“Gods, I’m sorry, Madame President,” she apologized quickly. She realized it probably wasn’t necessary when Roslin almost ended up in her lap as she doubled over in laughter again.
“Kara, don’t apologize,” she ordered playfully as she sobered. “It’s been far too long since someone has been so candid with me.”
Kara saw sadness and something else pass across Roslin’s face. She hadn’t pulled back after her giggle fit and Kara was suddenly very aware of her warmth against her thigh.
“Still human,” she muttered under her breath. At the president’s cocked eyebrow she voiced the thought although some of the earlier apprehension had crept back into her tone.
“I bet not a lot of people treat you like a real person, between being president and now Pythia’s prophet.”
A soft look, that same unreadable one, passed across Roslin’s face before Kara felt the president’s hands on her shoulders pulling her down to lie at her side.
“If we’re going to do the whole slumber party thing you might as well be comfortable,” she said with a smirk. Kara chuckled softly as she let the president position her on her side so their faces were just inches apart.
“You have no idea, Kara,” she said, picking up the conversation now that they were settled. “It’s been so long since someone joked with me or used my name. Gods, I miss hearing my own damn name. But not as much I miss being touched,” she admitted throatily. She blushed and looked away, obviously embarrassed by the longing in her voice.
Kara waited and when Roslin turned back her green eyes had turned to grey.
“Well, anyway, everyone needs to be touched,” she said lightly, although the sadness and longing hadn’t left her voice.
Kara studied Roslin’s expression as she cast her eyes downward. She found herself wondering if a president and prophet flirted the same way as everyone else.
Slowly, tentatively, she reached up to stroke the other woman’s cheek. Roslin’s eyes fluttered shut and she made one of those little noises that always sent a flutter of arousal through Kara’s abdomen. Emboldened by not being swatted away she moved her fingers to trace Roslin’s features, stopping just as she got to her lips.
She parted them and made that noise again and Kara was kissing her before she could talk herself out of it. The president kissed back needily and her hands found Kara’s shoulders to press her body into her own. She explored Kara’s back and then her ass and they were both moaning into each other’s mouths desperately by the time Roslin started tugging at the waistband of her uniform and spreading her legs to hump her thigh.
Kara pulled back with a start and she could tell from the panicked expression on Roslin’s face the sudden movement had been misread.
“Oh, Gods, Kara, I’m so sorry,” Laura started, pulling back and Kara could feel her body tense.
She silenced the older woman with another kiss, this one soft and gentle.
“Don’t be sorry,” she whispered, pulling away to cup the president’s cheek. “I want to touch you like you deserve to be touched.”
Roslin hummed throatily and Kara ran her finger down her neck slowly before stopping just at her pulse point and sucking on it gently. She was rewarded with a soft moan and she smirked against the skin without stopping.
After a few moments she moved to dropping soft kisses along the president’s chest, all the while wondering when the frak she’d become the person uttering cheesy lines better suited for a romance novel.
She wasn’t a selfish lover, per se, but she’d never had a problem with a quick frak that took care of everyone’s needs. But something about the desperation in the president’s eyes -- probably should make it Laura if you’re going to frak her, she mentally noted -- made her want to do things to her that would take all night.
She’d unbuttoned Laura’s shirt and was kissing her way down her stomach when she felt a hand in her hair. She looked up to see Roslin smiling down at her.
“Kara, as much as I appreciate your sense of romance,” she said with a smirk, “Captain Apollo will be back to check on us.”
Kara laughed against Laura’s navel chancing a gentle bite at it before responding.
“If he does, he can either join or he can go frak himself,” she assured. “And trust me if he walked in on us he would, in the nearest available bush.”
It was Laura’s turn to laugh and Kara felt another jolt of arousal shoot through her core at the sound.
“Oh, is that so?”
Kara started unbuttoning Roslin’s pants and pulling them down to her knees as she elaborated.
“Gods, you’ve never noticed how he looks at you like you’re the last hamburger left in the universe? He’d frak you senseless if not for that stick up his ass. I think I’ve even heard him moan your name when he was beating off in the shower.”
Instead of recoiling from her words Kara noticed Laura shivered involuntarily, letting her eyes slip closed.
“Ah, you like that idea, hmm? Would you rather be frakking Lee?”
She teased Laura through her underwear and she shook her head at the same time she let loose a little moan.
“Or maybe you’d like him to be frakking me while I eat you?”
Roslin moaned, louder this time, and Kara filed that away for her own future masturbation sessions.
She started to remove her underwear but Laura stopped her by again grabbing her hair.
“I won’t come that way, Kara, and as much as Captain Apollo joining us makes a good fantasy, I want us both to enjoy this and quickly before he comes back and yells at us.”
Just as Kara was about to ask how that was going to be achieved she felt herself being flipped on her back and Roslin straddling her leg, her knee positioned at her sex. It was an expert move and hardly one she’d figured a woman who had to be carried into her tent could pull off.
Roslin kissed her fiercely and started directing their bodies so that the were both moaning within a matter of minutes.
Kara pulled away and found her voice, curious enough to even risk her own impending release.
“You’ve done this before, Laura,” she said, not without a hint of accusation, but Roslin simply smiled wickedly and reclaimed her mouth at the same time she put more grinding pressure on Kara’s clit.
Kara came almost immediately, oddly aroused at the thought of the president being an expert in quick fraks, and Laura joined her a few moments later, screaming her pleasure into Kara’s shoulder.
She lay on top of her for a few moments and Kara could tell by her increasing weight that she was falling asleep. She gently rolled the other woman off her, drawing a displeased growl from Laura.
“If you don’t want your Captain Apollo knowing what just happened here, I think we better put your pants back on, Madame President,” she explained. Laura sighed but gamely lifted her hips to allow Kara to pull up and fasten the trousers.
Kara hesitated once they were on, unsure what the post-frak protocol was with the president.
Laura opened her eyes and smiled tiredly. Kara was suddenly worried that the exertion was more difficult on her failing body than she’d let on.
“Lay here, Kara,” she said, indicating the spot beside her. “If Lee asks tell him I got cold.”
Kara smirked and did as she was told, daring to throw her arm around Laura’s hip once she was settled. She was tired from the day as well and was quickly asleep, her face nestled in the president’s hair.
She woke to a sharp poke on the shoulder and when she opened her eyes Lee Adama was kneeling over them, an appalled look on his face.
“Kara, what the frak,” he hissed and Kara felt Laura move against her, likely stifling a giggle.
“Quiet, Lee,” she whispered back as she moved to get up carefully. “She got cold, was trembling and I was keeping her warm.”
He narrowed his eyes at her but they softened when he looked down at the pale, apparently sleeping redhead.
“It’s your watch,” he whispered back, jerking a thumb toward the flap.
She nodded and made her way toward it. She was almost there when she heard Laura’s sleepy voice.
“Captain Apollo, it’s so cold,” she mumbled and Kara knew without even looking back that the rustling of fabric was Laura pulling him down beside her to take her place.
Holy frak, she thought as she exited the tent and looked up at the stars with a shake of her head.
The frakking president, Pythia’s frakking prophet, has better frakking moves than me.
Rating: MA
Word Count: 1891
Pairing: Kara/Laura
Summary: On Kobol, Kara finds out Laura Roslin isn't as fragile or as innocent as she seems.
A/N: Ok, I the author fully admit this isn't really in character for Laura, especially at this point in canon, but this PWP is what she and Kara wanted to do during my conference call. Blame them. (Kara says blame Laura.)
“Really, I’m fine. You don’t have carry me, Lee, I just got a little dizzy.”
Kara heard the humiliation in Laura Roslin’s voice as Lee carried her into the tent and laid her gently onto the blankets the other soldiers had made into a makeshift bed for their leader.
She watched as he tucked them tightly around the president, fussing with the fabric far more than necessary.
“It’s alright, ma’am, you need your rest. Starbuck will stay here until you’re asleep. I’ll be on watch outside,” he said softly with a pat of the blanket somewhere near Roslin’s hand before nodding resolutely at Kara and moving toward the exit.
Kara acknowledged her orders absently as he swung back the flap. She was more interested in her commander in chief and the way she’d flopped back onto the pillow with a pained expression on her pale face.
“I can deck him for you,” she offered baldly, mentally pausing only for a moment to consider the consequences if she’d read the situation incorrectly.
Roslin’s eyes shot open and she eyed Kara for a few terrifying seconds. Then she burst into entirely unexpected, unpresidential giggles, her whole body shaking with the force of her amusement.
“Oh, Gods, I needed that, she breathed as she regained control. She patted the blanket by her side. “Come over here.”
Kara stood and crossed the short distance to sit herself down gingerly next to the older woman. Even though she’d been invited she wasn’t entirely sure how close she was allowed to get to the president turned prophet.
Roslin didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. She propped herself up on one elbow and fixed her gaze on Kara’s face.
“I thought there was something going on between you and Captain Apollo.”
It was a statement but her eyes told Kara it was a question and she realized Roslin was expecting a juicy answer.
She smirked as a quip about this being the strangest slumber party ever -- humanity’s savior and an insubordinate Viper pilot talking about boys in a tent on the planet of the Gods -- flitted across her mind. She’d later tell herself that’s why she thought even less about her words than usual before answering.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed he’s not bad to look at and he’s a pretty good frak. Of course not up his ass because the stick’s wedged so far up…” she trailed off as Roslin’s eyes widened.
“Gods, I’m sorry, Madame President,” she apologized quickly. She realized it probably wasn’t necessary when Roslin almost ended up in her lap as she doubled over in laughter again.
“Kara, don’t apologize,” she ordered playfully as she sobered. “It’s been far too long since someone has been so candid with me.”
Kara saw sadness and something else pass across Roslin’s face. She hadn’t pulled back after her giggle fit and Kara was suddenly very aware of her warmth against her thigh.
“Still human,” she muttered under her breath. At the president’s cocked eyebrow she voiced the thought although some of the earlier apprehension had crept back into her tone.
“I bet not a lot of people treat you like a real person, between being president and now Pythia’s prophet.”
A soft look, that same unreadable one, passed across Roslin’s face before Kara felt the president’s hands on her shoulders pulling her down to lie at her side.
“If we’re going to do the whole slumber party thing you might as well be comfortable,” she said with a smirk. Kara chuckled softly as she let the president position her on her side so their faces were just inches apart.
“You have no idea, Kara,” she said, picking up the conversation now that they were settled. “It’s been so long since someone joked with me or used my name. Gods, I miss hearing my own damn name. But not as much I miss being touched,” she admitted throatily. She blushed and looked away, obviously embarrassed by the longing in her voice.
Kara waited and when Roslin turned back her green eyes had turned to grey.
“Well, anyway, everyone needs to be touched,” she said lightly, although the sadness and longing hadn’t left her voice.
Kara studied Roslin’s expression as she cast her eyes downward. She found herself wondering if a president and prophet flirted the same way as everyone else.
Slowly, tentatively, she reached up to stroke the other woman’s cheek. Roslin’s eyes fluttered shut and she made one of those little noises that always sent a flutter of arousal through Kara’s abdomen. Emboldened by not being swatted away she moved her fingers to trace Roslin’s features, stopping just as she got to her lips.
She parted them and made that noise again and Kara was kissing her before she could talk herself out of it. The president kissed back needily and her hands found Kara’s shoulders to press her body into her own. She explored Kara’s back and then her ass and they were both moaning into each other’s mouths desperately by the time Roslin started tugging at the waistband of her uniform and spreading her legs to hump her thigh.
Kara pulled back with a start and she could tell from the panicked expression on Roslin’s face the sudden movement had been misread.
“Oh, Gods, Kara, I’m so sorry,” Laura started, pulling back and Kara could feel her body tense.
She silenced the older woman with another kiss, this one soft and gentle.
“Don’t be sorry,” she whispered, pulling away to cup the president’s cheek. “I want to touch you like you deserve to be touched.”
Roslin hummed throatily and Kara ran her finger down her neck slowly before stopping just at her pulse point and sucking on it gently. She was rewarded with a soft moan and she smirked against the skin without stopping.
After a few moments she moved to dropping soft kisses along the president’s chest, all the while wondering when the frak she’d become the person uttering cheesy lines better suited for a romance novel.
She wasn’t a selfish lover, per se, but she’d never had a problem with a quick frak that took care of everyone’s needs. But something about the desperation in the president’s eyes -- probably should make it Laura if you’re going to frak her, she mentally noted -- made her want to do things to her that would take all night.
She’d unbuttoned Laura’s shirt and was kissing her way down her stomach when she felt a hand in her hair. She looked up to see Roslin smiling down at her.
“Kara, as much as I appreciate your sense of romance,” she said with a smirk, “Captain Apollo will be back to check on us.”
Kara laughed against Laura’s navel chancing a gentle bite at it before responding.
“If he does, he can either join or he can go frak himself,” she assured. “And trust me if he walked in on us he would, in the nearest available bush.”
It was Laura’s turn to laugh and Kara felt another jolt of arousal shoot through her core at the sound.
“Oh, is that so?”
Kara started unbuttoning Roslin’s pants and pulling them down to her knees as she elaborated.
“Gods, you’ve never noticed how he looks at you like you’re the last hamburger left in the universe? He’d frak you senseless if not for that stick up his ass. I think I’ve even heard him moan your name when he was beating off in the shower.”
Instead of recoiling from her words Kara noticed Laura shivered involuntarily, letting her eyes slip closed.
“Ah, you like that idea, hmm? Would you rather be frakking Lee?”
She teased Laura through her underwear and she shook her head at the same time she let loose a little moan.
“Or maybe you’d like him to be frakking me while I eat you?”
Roslin moaned, louder this time, and Kara filed that away for her own future masturbation sessions.
She started to remove her underwear but Laura stopped her by again grabbing her hair.
“I won’t come that way, Kara, and as much as Captain Apollo joining us makes a good fantasy, I want us both to enjoy this and quickly before he comes back and yells at us.”
Just as Kara was about to ask how that was going to be achieved she felt herself being flipped on her back and Roslin straddling her leg, her knee positioned at her sex. It was an expert move and hardly one she’d figured a woman who had to be carried into her tent could pull off.
Roslin kissed her fiercely and started directing their bodies so that the were both moaning within a matter of minutes.
Kara pulled away and found her voice, curious enough to even risk her own impending release.
“You’ve done this before, Laura,” she said, not without a hint of accusation, but Roslin simply smiled wickedly and reclaimed her mouth at the same time she put more grinding pressure on Kara’s clit.
Kara came almost immediately, oddly aroused at the thought of the president being an expert in quick fraks, and Laura joined her a few moments later, screaming her pleasure into Kara’s shoulder.
She lay on top of her for a few moments and Kara could tell by her increasing weight that she was falling asleep. She gently rolled the other woman off her, drawing a displeased growl from Laura.
“If you don’t want your Captain Apollo knowing what just happened here, I think we better put your pants back on, Madame President,” she explained. Laura sighed but gamely lifted her hips to allow Kara to pull up and fasten the trousers.
Kara hesitated once they were on, unsure what the post-frak protocol was with the president.
Laura opened her eyes and smiled tiredly. Kara was suddenly worried that the exertion was more difficult on her failing body than she’d let on.
“Lay here, Kara,” she said, indicating the spot beside her. “If Lee asks tell him I got cold.”
Kara smirked and did as she was told, daring to throw her arm around Laura’s hip once she was settled. She was tired from the day as well and was quickly asleep, her face nestled in the president’s hair.
She woke to a sharp poke on the shoulder and when she opened her eyes Lee Adama was kneeling over them, an appalled look on his face.
“Kara, what the frak,” he hissed and Kara felt Laura move against her, likely stifling a giggle.
“Quiet, Lee,” she whispered back as she moved to get up carefully. “She got cold, was trembling and I was keeping her warm.”
He narrowed his eyes at her but they softened when he looked down at the pale, apparently sleeping redhead.
“It’s your watch,” he whispered back, jerking a thumb toward the flap.
She nodded and made her way toward it. She was almost there when she heard Laura’s sleepy voice.
“Captain Apollo, it’s so cold,” she mumbled and Kara knew without even looking back that the rustling of fabric was Laura pulling him down beside her to take her place.
Holy frak, she thought as she exited the tent and looked up at the stars with a shake of her head.
The frakking president, Pythia’s frakking prophet, has better frakking moves than me.
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