Curriculum (BSG/Weeds)
Summary: Laura Roslin makes a home visit.
Rating: M
Spoilers: BSG through the New Caprica arc, none for Weeds
Words: ~1450
Disclaimer: Characters/shows belong to their respective creators.
Laura stomped toward the outskirts of New Caprica City, lost in a grumbling internal dialogue about the irresponsibility of people. Caprica City, New Caprica City; civilization, lack thereof; it didn't seem to matter. Some parents just never showed up to parent-teacher conferences.
Nancy Botwin and her sons lived on the very edge of the settlement, in the last row of dwellings before the forest. Laura struggled to make out the names on the tents in the dwindling light; finally she spotted "Botwin" drawn in what she recognized as Shane's little-boy scrawl.
Laura knocked on the tent frame.
"Just a second," a woman's voice, sounding slightly exasperated, called from within. A moment later, the tent flap receded and a petite woman with a dark mane of hair even wilder than Laura's own peered out. "Look, I'm not holding right n-oh, frak me, the President?"
Laura snorted. "Not anymore. Are you Mrs. Botwin?"
"Nancy, yeah."
"I'm Laura R—well, you know who I am. We were supposed to meet this afternoon about Shane's schoolwork."
"Oh shit." Nancy covered her eyes with one hand. "I completely forgot. I was wrapped up in deliveries and the time just got away from me. I'm so sorry."
"Do you have time to talk now?"
"Sure, come on in. Excuse the clutter."
Laura ducked into the tent. Nancy wasn't kidding—the place was a mess. Clothes were strewn everywhere. Shane and Silas were nowhere to be seen.
"Are you one of the clothing barterers?" Laura asked, her annoyance beginning to give way to curiosity about the woman before her. "You have a lot of things here."
Nancy picked up a pile of sweaters from her cot to make room for Laura to sit down. "No, I don't trade clothes. They're just what people pay with most of the time."
"Oh. What do you sell?"
Nancy paused her cleaning and turned to look at Laura. She raised an eyebrow. "You really don't know?"
Laura shook her head.
Nancy looked down at the sweaters in her arms. "Here, this looks like it would fit you." She held out an oversized, marled zip cardigan.
"Thank you." Laura took the sweater and looked back to Nancy, still waiting for an answer to her question.
Nancy rolled her eyes and sighed. "President Roslin, I sell weed. New Caprica's finest," she said matter-of-factly.
"Call me Laura. And you must be kidding."
"Nope. The stuff that grows wild here is better than anything I ever hothoused on Caprica. Would you like to try some? I'm sure it would ease the pain of this parent-teacher conference. I can't believe these things are very fun for you either."
Laura laughed despite herself. "No, they aren't. But I don't know…"
"Shane and Silas went to a friend's and won't be back for a few hours. The company would be nice," Nancy admitted, dropping her gaze and blushing slightly.
"All right. But I haven't smoked since college. I'm not sure I remember how."
"Don't worry, I'll show you how it's done."
A smile now on her face, Nancy reached into her bra and produced a joint. She dug in her pockets for matches, sat down next to Laura on the small cot, and lit up. "Just do what I do." She took a drag, held it, and exhaled slowly. She held out the joint to Laura.
Laura mimicked Nancy's actions, feeling the long-forgotten burn of smoke in her lungs. She exhaled, enjoying the gradual uncoil of tension in her body. She passed the joint back to Nancy. "It's good."
"It is good," Nancy grinned. "So, how's Shane doing in school?"
Laura giggled, although she wasn't sure why. She took another drag on the proffered joint. "He's doing fine, actually. I required the conferences just to get to know everyone's parents better. Shane's doing well. Whatever you're doing here at home with him, keep it up."
"Great. Then I'll keep neglecting him."
"That's not funny," Laura said, before dissolving into another fit of giggles and collapsing back on the cot.
"I know," Nancy laughed, sprawling across Laura's stomach. "I'm an unfit mother!" she wailed.
"No, you're not," Laura answered in mock concern, her hand lifting to stroke Nancy's hair.
The two passed the New Caprican weed back and forth, chatting easily, until the joint was finished. Both women fell silent then, relaxing into the pleasant buzz of the drug and companionship.
Finally, Nancy raised her head, her face inches from Laura's. "Do you miss being President?" she asked, her voice low.
Laura lifted her eyes to the roof of the tent. Darkness had fallen, and the candles lit around the small space cast dancing shadows on the ceiling. She felt peaceful and languid, Nancy's slight weight and warmth against her a comfort.
"I don't. I feel free now."
"Free to do whatever you want?" Nancy was gazing at Laura with heavy-lidded, darkened eyes, her hand toying absently with the hem of Laura's shirt.
"Yes. Whatever I want," Laura murmured, burying her hand once again in Nancy's hair.
Laura didn't know what she was doing, she just knew it felt good—this, the weed, the candlelight, Nancy draped over her. It was much, much better than spending the evening alone in her tent. Better than grading papers, better than lesson-planning, better than wondering what kind of mess Baltar was making on her ship…
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden movement of Nancy sliding up her body and pressing their mouths together. Not sure if she was guided by instinct, the drug, or both (did it matter?) Laura returned the kiss, parting her lips to accept Nancy's tongue, meeting it with her own.
Laura's head fell back as Nancy kissed her way to her ear, pulling the lobe into her mouth and sucking gently. Laura hummed softly and felt Nancy grin against her neck.
Laura shifted a thigh between Nancy's legs and lifted her knee, propping the heel of her boot up on the edge of the cot. The motion pushed the younger woman higher up Laura's body; the friction of her center against Laura's thigh drawing a low moan from Nancy's throat.
Laura started at the noise, unaccustomed to female sounds of pleasure that weren't her own. She found she liked it, and liked how Nancy felt on top of her—light and soft, undemanding and unhurried.
They took their time, their touches a muddied mix of comfort and passion. Clothes were pushed aside to give access to hands, bites were soothed with licks and kisses. Soft moans and panting breaths filled the space around them; Laura couldn't be sure which were her own and which she caused.
She came with Nancy's fingers curled inside her. Laura arched and clutched at the blankets on the cot, her cries muffled in Nancy's thick mane of hair.
As she came down again, Nancy kissed her temple and whispered, "feel good?"
"Mmhm," Laura hummed in response before opening her eyes to pin Nancy with a hungry gaze.
Nancy gasped as Laura flipped her on the cot and began to slide a hand up Nancy's skirt. She was halfway up one smooth thigh when the sound of running footsteps outside startled both of them.
Laura jumped up, on alert, as Nancy smoothed her clothes. A moment later, Shane came bounding through the tent entrance. When he saw Laura standing there, he stopped in his tracks.
"Miss Roslin?"
"Hi, Shane. I was just talking to your mother about your schoolwork." Laura cleared her throat and hoped her face didn't reveal her embarrassment, or her voice her arousal.
Nancy stood up in front of her. "Miss Roslin says you're doing well. I'm proud of you, buddy." She reached out to muss the boy's hair. "Now why don't you run out back and get some more water? We'll make some cocoa."
As soon as Shane disappeared outside, Laura turned to Nancy. "I should go. I'm sorry we didn't have time to—"
"Don't worry about it. Here, don't forget your new sweater." Nancy handed Laura the fluffy cardigan. "And why don't you take some of this. It seems to work for you." She tucked a small bag and a few rolling papers into Laura's jacket pocket.
"Thanks." Laura smiled. "See you soon?"
"Yeah, I hope so. But don't wait for me to smoke that. Use it on whoever you want, you know, whenever. Secret weapon." Nancy winked.
Laura laughed. "We'll see. Thank you again, Mrs. Botwin. This was by far the most pleasant parent-teacher conference I've ever had." She smiled at Nancy one last time before stepping out of the tent and into the night.