Kara Thrace slogged through the muddy streets of the tent city which housed the remnants of humanity on the surface of New Caprica, intent on reaching her destination before nightfall. The former pilot hurried away from the tent she shared with Sam Anders - her husband - as quickly as the slippery, uneven ground allowed, pushed through the crowds with little regard for those she shouldered out of her way. Kara had found it difficult to adjust to her new "domestic" life, had found it ever increasingly necessary to escape the trappings of that life. As had become her habit of late, she desperately sought refuge in the one place that reminded her of what she considered home.
Reflexively, Kara began to relax as soon as the grounded Raptor came into view. Though the craft had been officially designated a communications hub, allowing the people to stay in contact with Galactica and the other ships still orbiting their new world, she'd come to think of this little piece of the battlestar as her own personal haven. As she'd been charged with arranging and keeping the schedule of incoming and outgoing communiques, Kara new best when she'd have chunks of time to spend uninterrupted, alone with just her thoughts, cradled in the familiar surroundings.
When she reached the hulking metal ship, Kara hoisted herself up onto the wing, punched the entry code into the key pad and waited impatiently for the hatch to rise and grant her access to her personal sanctuary.
Once inside, she hit the controls to close the door behind her, exhaled loudly in relief when she was at last ensconced in the Raptor's familiarity. Kara gave the communications systems a cursory check to ensure that all was in continued good order, stepped through to the cockpit and dropped into the co-pilot's seat with a contented sigh. She slouched down in the leather chair, put her feet up on the console in front of her and closed her eyes to the sights outside the glass canopy.
Kara had at some point drifted off and was startled back to wakefulness by the distinct hiss of the Raptor's hatch raising, the solid thud of the heavy door as it met the body of the craft in closing again. Her initial reaction at being disturbed, vehement anger, was quickly tempered by an intense curiosity as to who had braved the inclement weather and treacherous pathways to reach the vessel, in the dark, and for what reason. She sat still and silent in the cockpit, listened intently to the sounds of another person moving around the back of the little ship. Kara discerned the sound of air hissing out of the seat cushion at the ECO's station as the unknown party's weight settled into the leather there. She was surprised when she heard the snap of switches being thrown, saw the glow reflected from the lights on the communications terminal as it was brought to life.
The Captain in her screamed at Kara to jump into action and put to a stop the unauthorized use of a military asset, but still, she was curious. She pulled her legs up into her seat at the co-pilot's position, turned slowly until she was able to get to her knees facing the chair back. She hunched down so that her head wasn't visible over the headrest to whomever was in the back section, stilled when she heard the rustling of clothing.
Unable to further resist a peek at the interloper, Kara pushed up on her legs until her eyes cleared the back of the bucket seat in which she crouched.
She was stunned to see the former president, bathed in the luminosity the console in front of her radiated, shrugging out of a heavy wool cardigan sweater. She watched as Laura Roslin draped her sweater over the back of the chair, turned back to the instrumentation and heaved a tremendous sigh. Kara was intrigued when New Caprica's only school teacher reached out to the panel of switches, quickly withdrew her hand, curled her fingers and bounced the fist they formed off her mouth nervously.
Just as Kara was about to announce her presence and offer the former president assistance, the older woman muttered "Frak it," shot her hand out in front of her and flipped the transmission switch.
"Galactica, Raptor zero-four-zero, do you copy?" she said hesitantly.
Helo's slightly garbled voice rang out in the small space.
"Raptor zero-four-zero, Galactica. Go ahead."
"Um, Captain Agathon, good evening," Laura said into the air. "This is Laura Roslin. I was ... hoping to speak with the Admiral."
"Yes, ma'am," came Helo's reply. "I'll patch you through to the Admiral's quarters."
"Thank you, Captain," she said, clearly relieved.
Kara closed her eyes and dropped her face onto the headrest, sick at the thought of being caught listening in on a conversation between the current head of the military and the former president. As she silently cursed her luck, she heard Admiral Adama's gravelly voice fill the cabin.
"Laura? Is everything okay?" he asked as soon as the line was open.
Though he wasn't talking to her and in spite of her precarious situation, Kara smiled, comforted by the Old Man's rich baritone as it floated into the air around her.
"Yes, Bill," Laura replied in her warm, honeyed tone. "Everything's fine. I just ... miss you."
Kara's eyes snapped open and her ears perked up at the decidedly personal confession. She inched up and sneaked another look at the former president's profile in time to see a wide grin split her pretty face as the Admiral's chuckle rumbled over the line.
"Me, too, Laura," he said. "How are you?"
"Oh, wonderful," Laura replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I haven't had a hot shower or a hot meal in weeks, I'm exhausted but can't sleep for all the noise down here, I'm living in a tent, for the sake of the gods, and the weather, well ... sucks."
'Amen, sister,' Kara thought, nodded to herself as she heard the Admiral snort derisively over the comm.
"Still waiting for your 'Better Tomorrow?'"
"That and a unicorn," Laura teased. "How are you, Bill?"
"I'm fine," he said, chuckled. "You know, hot showers, hot meals, warm, well-appointed quarters ..."
"Clean sheets and a comfortable rack ..." she added wistfully.
"Not nearly as comfortable without you in it," Bill rasped.
Kara's eyes widened at that, wondered if it meant what she thought it meant.
"Are you in bed now, Bill?" Laura asked, her voice a purr.
"Yes..."
"Did I wake you?" she asked.
"No, I wasn't asleep. I was just ... laying here."
"Laying there?"
"Laying here ... thinking," Bill replied hesitantly.
"Thinking about what?" she pressed.
"You really wanna know?" he asked huskily.
From her position in the cockpit, Kara watched Laura lean back into her seat, put her booted feet up on the console and close her eyes.
"Tell me, Bill," she ordered in a quiet, breathy voice.
"I was thinking about the last time I frakked you -"
Kara's eyebrows climbed up toward her hairline, her jaw dropped as Laura issued a throaty hum. There was no mistaking the meaning of that statement.
" - right here, in my rack" he continued.
"Yes..." Laura said, smiled and nodded.
"You were so wet, Laura," Bill growled.
The hot rush of desire that slid over her on hearing the Admiral's deep, rumbling voice wrapped around those words caught Kara off guard. She was surprised, too, at having to bite back a moan as Laura groaned, squeezed her breasts together, dropped her head back and arched her back.
"Yes, Bill," Laura said, drew out his name on a sigh.
"I frakked you hard - from behind..." he barked.
Laura tipped her chin up and to the side, presented Kara with a clear view of her lovely face as a sublime expression washed over her features.
"Gods, you were so hard - it was so good," she drawled.
"I'm hard now, Laura," Bill grunted. "I wish my cock was sliding in and out of your hot, wet body instead of my own fist."
"Me, too - oh my gods, Bill, me too," she whined in frustration, moved a hand to rub between her legs.
"Are you ... wet now?" he asked, a hitch in his breath.
Kara knew she was intruding on the most private of conversations between her former commanding officer and the former president, but, she rationalized, since there was no way for her to make a graceful exit, there was little she could do about it. And she had to admit, if only to herself, that the fact that she was privy to the couple's intimacy without their knowledge set her body aflame. She pressed her legs together in an attempt to relieve some of the building tension as she watched Laura slip her hand under the waistband of her pants.
"Yesss," Laura confirmed and Kara tightened her grip on the headrest, bit down on her tongue when she heard the muffled wet smack of Laura's fingers as she moved them beneath the fabric of her pants.
The Admiral's heavy breathing filtered through the comm system's speakers and Kara craned her neck, desperate to get a better look at Laura Roslin as she pleasured herself. She'd seen the former president in the communal showers more than once, had watched surreptitiously as the older woman had stood under the flow of cold water and smoothed her delicate hands over her rounded hips and full breasts, run her fingertips through her soaking wet hair. The stolen glances in those hurried moments served to intensify the attraction Kara had always felt for the former leader's oozing femininity and regal bearing. Though Kara had been with her fair share of women, none had stirred in her as great a passion, had invaded her fantasies quite as often as had Laura Roslin since the first time she'd seen her naked.
"Are you touching yourself, Laura?" Bill's hoarse voice scratched over the airwaves.
"Mmm, yes, but gods, I want your mouth on me, Bill," she whispered, circled her hips and pushed up into her hand.
"Oh and I wanna taste you - " he panted.
Laura sucked in a sharp breath, hissed a "yessss" as she exhaled, rocked her pelvis and lifted her other hand to knead her breast.
" - run my tongue over your clit until you come."
Kara squirmed in her seat as she peered out at Laura through the cargo netting that hung between the cockpit and the back of the Raptor, involuntarily rolled her hips in time with the other woman's movements. Her eyes fell shut of their own accord when a deep, resonant moan escaped Laura's parted lips and was met by the Admiral's low, guttural groan.
"Bill - I'm close," she panted. "I'm ... so ... close."
"You're gonna make me come, Laura," he growled. "Frak - I wanna come inside you - come in your mouth, between your tits -"
Kara forced her eyes open, fixed her hungry gaze on Laura's undulating body. She ducked her head, bit into her hand on the back of the seat to quash the urge to vocalize her barely controlled desire, fought to keep her rapid breaths quiet.
"Oh my gods, Bill - frak me," Laura whimpered, worked her hand inside her pants.
"Laura -"
"Oh, yes, Bill - say my name," she begged. "Say my name, gods, say my name."
"Laura," he complied with ragged breath. "Ah, Laura - "
"Oh, YES!" she cried out. "YES - Bill! OH, my gods, I'm coming, oh gods, Bill, I'm coming, I'm coming..."
It took all of Kara's strength to retain her presence of mind as she watched Laura's ass come out of her seat with the sudden jerk of her hips, listened to the almost sorrowful cries that accompanied her obvious orgasm. She nearly lost the weak grip on her control when Laura began to shudder with pleasure, bit down on her lower lip on hearing the Admiral's strangled voice announce his own climax.
"Frak me - I'm coming, Laura - ah, frak," he rasped.
Kara looked on in rapt attention as Laura dropped back down to the leather cushion of the ECO's seat, slowed the roll of her hips to a languid pace and gulped air as she began to calm. The sudden rush of tears to her eyes as she studied the tranquil beauty on Laura's face surprised and confused Kara. She tried to blink back the offending wetness, tamp down the unsettling emotion she felt on seeing Laura Roslin's beatific rapture.
"Bill," Laura sighed at length, withdrew the hand from her pants and wiped her fingers on her shirt as she made to straighten it.
"You okay?" Bill asked gently.
Laura sat up and put her feet on the floor, smiled sadly and nodded slowly to herself.
"Yes," she said quietly.
Kara cocked her head when she saw a tear slip from Laura's eye, trail a wet path down her face.
"I'd better go, Laura," he said resignedly.
"Yes," Laura sniffed, smiled crookedly. "Go. Get cleaned up."
"Right," Bill chuckled, paused. "I'll see you next week."
"I'm counting the hours," she said sincerely.
"I'm glad you called tonight. Laura, I -"
"I know, Bill," she cut in. "I ... miss you, too."
"Goodnight," he rumbled.
"Goodnight, Bill," Laura replied, reached out and flipped a switch to break the connection. "I love you," she spoke softly into the empty air.
A tightness gripped Kara's chest as Laura bowed her head, lifted a hand to cover her eyes and began to quietly cry. She marveled at the emotional tempest that one phone call had stirred in Laura, wondered if that was what love - real love - did to a person in her lover's absence. Kara herself had never experienced the depth of feeling she imagined Laura Roslin was immersed in as she sat alone (as far as she knew), wept for want of the man she missed powerfully. She thought the war Laura fought between joy and despair was both beautiful and ... wretched.
Kara was pulled from her reverie when Laura's head snapped up and she sucked in a long breath.
"Godsdamnit," she muttered aloud, wiped furiously at the streaming tears on her face with trembling hands. "Get a hold of yourself - frakking crybaby," Laura chided herself.
Kara crouched down in her chair when Laura quickly stood, snatched her sweater from the back of the chair and stabbed her arms into the sleeves. When she'd shrugged into and zipped the sweater, Laura removed her glasses from a pocket, slid them onto her face and turned to look at the lit control panel with a furrowed brow. Kara watched as the former president studied the console, finally reached out to throw the appropriate switches to power down the comm unit.
With only the dim light coming into the Raptor from the settlement to guide her, Laura moved to open the hatch on the vessel. As the metal door lifted and more light shone into the interior, Kara saw Laura take a deep breath and step out onto the wing of the craft with apparent determination.
Not until the hatch had closed securely and a few long moments had passed did Kara turn around in her seat, drop onto her ass with a heavy sigh. She raked a hand through her blonde hair, stared straight ahead but focused on nothing. She briefly entertained the idea of going home to her husband, confiding in Sam all that she'd accidentally experienced, but quickly dismissed the thought. Kara felt strangely ... privileged at having been party to the intimacy between the Admiral and Laura Roslin, felt as though they'd given her, albeit unknowingly, a treasured part of themselves. She knew she'd hold close and carry gently that gift.