Prompt by Lanalucy: Laura/Bill - Kara and Lee can't unsee that. (or vice versa)

Thanks to Lanalucy for the beta too!

Laura's hand was dry and warm in his own. "Come," he said.

Bill stepped forward, picking an easy pace, keeping the braches up until she passed under them too, finding his way downhill, guiding her through the darkness. The shorter route wasn't a very clear one. A battalion of marines wouldn't have trouble crossing, but he felt Laura falter behind him.

He slowed down, his eyes scanning the darkness before him, where the camp was. The brushwood thinned out a few yards away. It would be easier for her to walk there.

There was an abrupt jerk at his hand, before he heard branches snap and a twig shattering crash, ending with a thud.

He turned. She'd stumbled over a tree stump and looked up at him, peeved and disoriented at the same time. He admired her presidential lack of expletives.

"I'm sorry Bill."

"No need to be," he said. "Ready?" He held out his hand to her.

She took it and at a careful pace he pulled her up.

"Gods," she said.

"What?"

"The other ankle too."

"You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

Of course she was sure.

"Sit," he said and he eased her down again.

He kneeled down beside her. "Mind if I take a look?"

At her nod, he felt his way up one ankle and then the other. The left one was already swelling from her first fall, but at least both of the legs appeared to be unbroken. Good. She shivered under his hands.

"Cold?" he asked.

"Mmm," she said, the way women did when he missed the point.

It would be cold soon, if they stopped moving. They couldn't stay here tonight anyway. There'd be a panic in the camp, if they turned up missing in the morning, and leaving her here was out of the question. The solution was obvious, but he hesitated. For all her charm, the president was an independent type. He wouldn't have needed to come to Kobol if she wasn't.

"What?" she asked, studying him. "You have that look on your face that you reserve for proposals I won't like."

"I have a look for that?"

She rolled her eyes at him.

"I'll have to carry you," he said.

"Ah." Now her voice faltered. "Well. Okay. I guess."

"Okay."

He removed the rifle that had been strapped across his back and took hold of her lower arm, leveraging her upward while he crouched down in front of her, sneaking a hand behind her knee - ready to hoist her over his shoulders in the fireman's carry.

"Bill!" she snapped.

He stopped in mid-pull, craning his neck upwards to see her face. She wavered on both her feet, leaning entirely on him, her hips against his shoulder, holding onto him for balance, wincing with pain.

"I'd prefer not to be thrown over your shoulder."

It was the most efficient way of transporting incapacitated people. He'd brought wounded comrades into safety more times than he cared to remember. Male and female. No one had complained. "You would?" The other way of carrying her was much more personal. He wouldn't have his hands free to brush away branches, too.

"I really would."

He rose, and caught her eye as he snaked his hand under her knees and scooped her up, ready to stop at the first sign from her. She wove her arms around his neck without reservation, nestling closer.

"Better?" he asked.

"Thank you." Her breath grazed his cheeks. The warmth of her body seeped into his. Now she was this close, he noticed how lovely her lips were.

"Bill?"

He pulled his gaze up to her eyes.

He knew his thoughts were out of place. She was his president. Not twenty-four hours ago, she'd been the rebel who'd broken the union of the Fleet, and he had been prepared to jump away from Kobol with the rest of humanity. But a lot had happened since, and it turned out to be singularly distracting carrying her in his arms, like his bride.

Her hand came up and cupped his cheek as if she was uncertain that he was real too.

"Laura?" he asked.

Kara lifted up her hand, signaling a stop.

"What?" Lee whispered. Then he heard it too. To their right, downhill, something moved in the underbrush.

He freed his rifle from his shoulder and followed Kara in, careful not to snap any twigs or branches.

The sound was louder now. Almost - rhythmic.

Almost as if –

Kara turned her head. Her white teeth flashed in the moonlight, an evil glee in her eyes.

But who? Helo and Sharon?

Kara moved in closer, but he had no intention of interrupting Helo with his machine.

"Kara!" he hissed tersely.

Of course she ignored him. He followed her, anger building. On patrol they had to stay together, and she was forcing his hand. Again.

She halted so abruptly, he walked into her.

"Gods," she whispered, shock in her voice.

When Lee tried to look over her shoulder, she turned. "Back out," she said, all but shoving him uphill.

He couldn't think of three things that would scandalize Kara into retreat. His curiosity sparked, he pushed passed her.

In the moonlit dimness, a solidly build man, his pants around his ankles, was frakking a slender woman against an old tree. Her bare legs were wrapped around his waist, her feet crossed over his pale butt, and her hands roamed the jacket of his battle fatigues. She threw back her head. "Bill!" Her voice was dark, husky, on the brink of breaking. And it was utterly familiar.

Lee turned as if singed, trying to unsee the picture, but it had burned itself into his retina.

"Move!" he hissed, pushing Kara uphill, needing a distance between himself and – this.

"We can't," Kara whispered.

"Oh yes, we can." He needed to get away as fast as possible. This could only get worse. At least now his father didn't know he knew.

"They're defenseless," Kara said. "There are toasters at large on this planet."

Frak.

Kara tapped his shoulder and pointed at a spot not far away, covered by bushes.

He nodded, chagrined, but followed her as she slunk to their new surveillance point.

Once in the bushes, Lee steadfastly stared uphill. He knew it forced Kara to look downhill, but it seemed the lesser of all evils. It wasn't her father after all. The sounds that rose from the clearing were jarring him enough. He'd never thought the President would be loud. And his father – He'd never thought of his father. Period.

"Bill!" The odd quiver of love in the President's voice made Lee turned his head despite himself.

The President held on to his dad for dear life, convulsing, quivering, probably orgasming. It would be over soon, then, thank the Gods. His father supported the President in his arms while she rode out her high, kissing her face with a tenderness that seemed alien.

At long last she disentangled her ankles, and tried to stand on her own feet. It was almost as if his father had to hold her up. "Careful, Laura."

"It must have been some orgasm," Kara muttered near his ear, admiration in her voice.

"Turn, Bill," the President said. "Against the tree."

To Lee's amazement his dad obeyed, as if she wasn't the renegade he had removed from power. He turned them both, until he leaned with his back to the tree. With cautious movements Roslin, sank onto her knees on her abandoned pants, her well-shaped ass pale in the moonlight. For a long moment she eyed his dad's raging erection, glistening from her juices.

Lee closed his eyes, wishing to unsee that picture, too, the details too clear for this dim lit night.

"Frak," Kara whispered, a note of awe in her voice.

Lee opened his eyes just in time to see the President swallow his dad whole. Lee felt a responding twitch in his fatigues, despite himself.

His father stifled a yowl. His hands convulsed near the Presidents ears as if he contemplated holding her head exactly where he wanted it, until he reached up and grabbed hold of two low branches, while the President's head bobbed up and down over his cock. His dad's ragged breaths filled the open space, his hips bucking forward in a most undignified needy way. She gripped his balls without any qualms. His breath stuttered. Lee's lungs seemed to shrink.

It was like watching an allied battlestar slowly explode in space, a disaster you couldn't stop watching, even if all you wanted was to look away.

Kara's hand drifted to his fly.

"Kara!" her grabbed her wrists. It was easier to look at Kara than at his father, but when he turned his head, she caught his lips and deepened her kiss before he could even protest. "We can't," he panted when she released him. "We're guarding them." He tried to keep her at arm's length.

In the clearing, the president's free hand snaked down, until it came to rest on her pelvis, and her hips swayed rhythmically with the movements of her hand. Dad seemed oblivious to her actions, his head fallen backward against the tree, his eyes closed, his hips following the President's pattern.

"She's good," Kara mumbled. She opened his fly.

Lee noticed his hand had found Kara's left breast. He withdrew, and glanced uphill for Cylons, half his attention on the warm hand fondling him.

"Bill?" The President's voice drifted to them over the clearing, a sultry invitation in them. She had released his cock, but her hand below hadn't stopped moving over her, through her –

All the words Lee could think of were too coarse to describe his President.

His father took his erection in hand, rubbing it without shame, watching the woman that kneeled down in front of him. "You have plans?" he asked, almost – almost playfully, Lee thought. As if frakking the President was a common occurrence.

It placed the whole divide of the Fleet in a shrill and very different light.

"I'd love to – ," she rubbed herself even more abrasively, as if that was all the signal he'd need. And apparently it was, because he nodded and she moved as if preparing to lie down on her back.

"Let me," dad halted her. He pulled up his pants and lay down, his erection protruding, ready for her. When she moved to straddle his cock, he caught her hand, stopped her, turning her.

Oh man, he wasn't.

The President knelled over his father's head and bend forward to slip his erection in her mouth again.

He was.

It was unbearable and swelteringly sensual all at the same time, like a bath that was boiling hot in some places and ice cold in others.

The President's ass, turned toward Lee, moved in semi circles over his dad's mouth. It was a hypnotizing sight. He wondered what she tasted like.

Kara freed Lee's cock and rubbed it. It released him from the need to do that himself.

He wondered why he thought that.

The President moaned around his dad, his tongue obviously satisfying new needs and driving her to another height. It was as impossible to deny Husker more than lived up to his reputation, as it was to admit his dad seemed to please this gorgeous woman more than could be expected of a greying man.

Kara shoved Lee's pants and boxers to his knees and pulled him to the ground with her. He blinked, surprised, unwilling to look away from the elder couple in the clearing. Kara straddled him, letting herself down on him in one slick movement, wet and warm around him.

He tried to swallow his cry, but she didn't wait for him, and rode him.

"Keep up, Lee," she said, placing his hands on her breasts.

And he did.

Bill felt Laura convulse around his tongue. He brought his hands up to prevent her from coming down and smothering him, in an old reflex he'd forgotten. He tried to warn her he was coming too, but ejaculated before he found his voice. They rested for a bit, her labia pressing against his cheek, her aroma filling his nostrils, her breath against his slackening cock, until she raised her hips, turned and crawled over him. They lay cheek to cheek, and sank in a restful slumber.

There was a rustle in the undergrowth not far away.

He froze and tried to remember were he'd dropped his rifle. Frak.

"Again?" Laura's lips smiled against his neck.

He shushed her. "We're not alone."

She clambered for her pants, while he located his firearm. Yes, the sound definitely came from the bushes over there.

"Behind the tree," he pointed Laura. She was in no condition to run; they'd have to make their stand here.

He zipped up his fatigues, moved out of the clearing and circled the bushes, trying to be soundless.

He froze when he saw them.

Lee spotted him over the blonde's shoulders almost immediately. The tattoo was unmistakably Kara's.

The men stared at each other wide eyed, like pilots who jumped too close to a star, shocked at the sudden proximity of peril, until Kara slapped his son. "Keep at it, Lee."

The boy blushed and Bill could see he was ready to bolt.

Bill raised his hand to stop him and turned away.

Walking through the clearing to the tree, Bill wondered what he would tell Laura.