Title: Winter Solstice - slashy version
Author: Shatterpath
Feedback address: shatterpath@shatterstorm.net
Date in Calendar: 29 December 2005
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Laura/Kara
Rating: NC17
Summary: Kara rescues Laura...or is it the other way around?
Advertisement: Part of the FSAC:DW05

Disclaimer: "Battlestar Galactica," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Ron Moore, David Eick, SciFi, R&D TV, Sky TV, and USA Cable Entertainment LLC. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Battlestar Galactica," SciFi, or any representatives of the actors whose characters are involved.

Winter Solstice- Slashy version

++ Laura Roslin ++

Annual Officer’s Ball.

Stroking the formal invitation, I let my mind toy with the idea of what this kind of invitation would have once meant to me. A night of glorious finery, handsome soldiers in their polished best, decorations, fine food and drink. Not just another social obligation as the default president. I was going, of course, there was no way I would disappoint my much-adored soldiers by standing them up.

Several soldiers in particular. There was no doubt that I was titillated and flattered by Bill’s attraction to me. He would be the easy, safe choice, the one I would be expected to take. Or his handsome son? Perhaps. But in the safety of my thoughts and fantasies, I could admit to, reluctantly acknowledge the fiery personality that drew me like a foolish moth to a flame.

Time to stop that train of thought right there.

But I never can forget the flash of gold eyes and the gold arrow as she offered me the fruits of the impossible task I set her on. There are still no words to describe my awe of her.

Shaking off the thoughts, feminine vanity draws my eyes to my pitiful closet space, and my even more pitiful selection of clothing. Maybe that violet suit that still haunts my memories of the fate of the Colonies? There were precious few times that I didn’t feel silly and frilly in the color and silky fabric. It was truly depressing, and not a little shaming, these moments of weakness where I miss the simple pleasures like primping, and nice clothes.

No, the lavender will have to do.

A knock distracts me. “Come in.” The beaming happiness on Billy’s face is contagious, and I find myself grinning back at him. “Aren’t you feeling the holiday spirit,” I compliment him and stand up, knowing it was time to get ready for the ball.

“Wait,” he said shyly and abruptly had my full attention. “I have a gift for you.”

Honestly, I haven’t even noticed that he was holding something that looks like a garment bag, of all the silly things. Has he read my mind yet again? The top zipper of the bag is loose, and Billy moves his hand so that it falls away.

Oh my…

++ Kara Thrace ++

Oh, I’ve heard of people doing a spit-take, but I’ve never actually witnessed one. Much less blown half a mouthful of ambrosia all over Karl’s jacket in pure, reflexive shock. Whining my name petulantly, he swiped at the droplets of alcohol, while I distractedly wiped my wet chin.

“Holy Gods,” my voice whispered and the guys trade puzzled looks before following my gaze, as quiet begins to settle over the assembly.

Like the blazing sun fading into dark night, she is a stunning sight.

Creamy skin and fabric, black hugging her abdomen and legs in mystery, and the waterfall of glorious crimson… Shaking off the shock, I marvel in an awed tone, “Now that’s a conversation stopper.”

Some kind of creamy, silky camisole compliments her pale skin, giving the misleading impression of shocking near-nakedness, and the black skirt is ankle-length and clingy just this side of suggestive. But it’s the conversation stopping long-sleeved sheath, open in the front except for a single tie at her belly, that has silenced the room. Flared dramatically at the wrist, calling attention to those elegant hands, trailing and draping over her waist and hips to dip low behind her, the intense, scarlet red is stunning.

Heartbeats are passing quickly now, and the stunned silence is drifting rapidly into uncomfortable territory. Even the Old Man seems paralyzed where he’s standing with Tigh.

Ah well, desperate times call for desperate measures and all that crap. Shoving my drink into Lee’s hands, making him jump, I duck around Karl, muttering, “idiot boys.”

If they weren’t going to do anything to save the poor woman’s dignity, then unrequited crush or no, I’m not going to stand here and watch her crash and burn.

++ Laura ++

My pleasure in this marvelous outfit is fading fast as the room remained still. I’d only wanted to make an entrance, not cause multiple heart attacks, possibly including my own. Then a figure stalks purposefully out of the sea of uniforms, and my eyes widen.

Part of me is hardly surprised by the brashness of the action, after all, this is Kara. Part of me wants to flee in a panic, not ready to face her and my tortured feelings. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Madame President,” Kara’s saying in a voice only just enough to be heard in the quiet. Did her voice just crack, or was I imagining things? “You look lovely. Welcome to the Annual Officer’s Ball, we’re honored to have you here.”

This is a dream and a nightmare, all in one package. I stare at her offered hand, palm up, for a long moment, too stunned to move. Protocol finally takes over, and I’m shocked by the warmth of her flesh against mine. “Thank you, lieutenant,” I manage to say in a fairly normal tone, bolstered by the empathy and mischief in her eyes. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

If only this child of sunshine could know how much! How just the business-like clasp of her strong fingers makes my lonely heart race. Those expressive wolf-eyes hold mine for a breathless moment longer, giving my imagination fuel to a fire I’ve tried extremely hard to bank, and we both shake it off.

Tucking my fingers into the crook of her bent arm, Kara leads me calmly into the room, decorated with surprising flair for the traditional Winter Solstice. Once more, she amuses me by brusquely lifting a drink from one of her fellow pilots, and he jumps in surprise. With just a few sips of mild alcohol, all I’m allowed, my panicky stomach unclenches and I decide then and there who my escort for the night is. If she’ll have me, of course. Kara, thankfully, shows no sign that she’s feeling inclined to ditch me and I use her fearlessness to bolster my own nerves.

++ Kara ++

There is no way I’m going to point out just how tightly the woman is gripping my forearm, but she has stronger hands than a look would suggest. Bet I’ll have few fingertip-shaped bruises tomorrow. Not that I’m complaining, going so far as to reach across my chest and cover those nervous digits, my thumb stroking the soft webbing between her thumb and index finger. To my shock, it seems to actually work, as her grip loosens and she blows out a shaky breath. “Better?”

Nodding faintly, she finally appears to be unwinding just a bit and flashes me a warm, loving smile that makes my heart stop for a long moment. Aw, lady, you gotta stop that…

Concentrate, Kara, for frak sake. You only approached her in the first place to bail her out of a really awkward position. Keep telling yourself that and don’t think about that slender body so damn close…

These kind of events always bore the frak out of me, and this strange coupling off with the prez would normally crack me up.

Rarely really looking her age, the woman is radiant like this, with the striking crimson color making her hair burnish like well-oiled wood, and the camisole with it’s narrow band of lace bringing all sorts of illicit thoughts to many a mind, I’d bet. I know my lizard brain has already gone there in detail, making me sweat under the thick uniform.

“I’ll owe you big time, Kara, if you’d stick close,” she suddenly murmurs just barely loud enough for my ears after fortifying herself with the drink I’d snatched from Hot Dog. Sweat was beading along my hairline, as her breath wafted through the slicked-back strands and over my temple. “I’m feeling a little… vulnerable.”

Imagine that, I snort sarcastically to myself. “My pleasure,” I smile faintly, wrestling my wandering mind into temporary submission. “You’ve made my night far more entertaining than it would have been. Besides, every guy in the place will be jealous as hell of me. Just the kind of position I love to be in”

Swallowing a chuckle as a faint, faint flush creeps up from that lacy camisole edge, I lead our president in all her finery back to my gawking buddies.

If only she knew…

++ Laura ++

Finding myself on Kara’s arm isn’t mildly disconcerting because she was a girl. I’ve been attracted to women before, but certainly none quite like this wild thing! Besides, the uniform blurs so many lines of gender, age, and body type, certainly to an outsider like me. What’s truly disconcerting is that she’s so much shorter than I, yet fit so nicely against my side. Kara Thrace carries herself like someone ten feet tall and totally fearless, not someone nearly two inches shorter than myself, not including the heels.

Lee manages to shake his shock off with visible effort, inadvertently stroking my feminine ego, and gallantly bows over my unoccupied hand, prodding the others to do the same. Flattered and amused by their puppy-dog enthusiasm, I gladly allow these soldiers to entertain me, Agathon going so far as to make me chuckle.

But I’m only truly aware of the heat of the body wrapped around my hand, the curve of breast far, far too close to my fingers and knuckles.

By now, the party had resumed normalcy, though I’m quite certain that the shock of flaming red against the sea of dark blue and gold on gray uniforms is responsible for the stares I can feel all over me. It’s a nearly physical sensation, and I ground myself in my grip on Kara, who suddenly quaffs her drink and hands off the glass before patting my knuckles. “We should go see the commander.” The other pilots groan in protest, voicing my own internal dissent. The absolute flattery of their attention makes grin in delight, and Kara waves them off. “You can come back and we’ll entertain you if you have the energy later. Deal?”

“Deal,” I agree happily, waving at the others as I am led away. “Later then!”

Still chortling in delight at my soldiers, I allow Kara to lead me in proper gentlemanly fashion to the knot of power hitters where I know I really should be. As much as I want to remain where I was, on her arm, protocol demands that I behave as my station calls for. “Commanders, council members,” Kara greets them calmly, earning murmurs of recognition, before reversing the crook-of-the-arm move, and my hand is once more clasped in hers. Those eyes make me so silly… “Madame President,” she smiles mischievously, and I can’t help but grin again, enraptured with this well-behaved side of her. “Your company has been a pleasure. Please enjoy the rest of your evening.”

I actually have to swallow a laugh and a moan as she bows over my hand, pressing a kiss to my knuckles, knowing very well that the whole damn room is watching. That beautiful, exquisitely soft mouth lingers there, breath moist and hot on my skin, for just a moment longer than politeness dictates before she leans away and releases me.

My heart is pounding like a hummingbird in flight.

“Thank you, lieutenant,” escapes me in a tone that sounds a little breathless to my ears, and I can pray no one else’s. “Your company was delightful. Save a dance for me?”

Oh, that takes her off guard, but it had definitely been my voice that asked. Those sandy eyes are fathomless in their mysteries. “I look forward to it. Until then.”

We watch her saunter off with a bounce in her step, before I turn a mischievous, smug grin on Bill Adama. “Give me a little longer with that girl, and I’ll turn her into a diplomat yet.”

He actually laughs at that.

++ Kara ++

“Officially bored now,” I yawn widely as Helo elbows me in the ribs.

“So bail,” he shrugs and then his expression turns mischievous. “Or you still holdin’ out for the boss lady?”

Ignoring the twitters of amusement, I restrain from decking him and giving the gang the satisfaction of a temper tantrum.

My self-control is well rewarded with a flash of crimson behind the man, and my gaze meets the mercurial earthy green gaze of the woman in question. In this moment, I know that I’m in bigger trouble than I’d initially believed. I honestly don’t care about the packaging, the years separating us, or our respective stations in life. She fascinates me and there’s no denying it.

Any more than I can deny that she’s headed my way, a determined look on her face. Oh boy…

“You’re in trouble now,” Hot Dog chortles, even as I’m shoved none to gently from behind.

“Go be the gentleman,” Helo sneers as I pulled up, trying to keep some shreds of dignity. Only to find myself nearly nose-to-nose with a very startled Laura Roslin. Gods, but she has the prettiest eyes…

“Ummm…” I hedge like a complete idiot, stunned by her proximity and intimidated by the feel of a million eyes on us. “If I, umm, promise to try to not be a complete blonde, would you like to collect on that dance now?”

Until this moment, I have never heard the woman laugh. It’s a rich, warm, loving sound, and every nerve in my body shudders in pleasure to her delight. “You’re still the best offer I’ve had all night,” she smiles winningly, taking my hand. On the dance floor, I freeze again, earning a wry look. “You’re better dressed to lead.”

The nervous butterflies escape me in a laughing rush. Light-headed in relief, I do a quick mental reverse-engineer of my dancing skills, and step into her personal space. Sweeping up a delicate hand in my left, I tuck the other into the small of her narrow back, surprised by how slender she really is. Such a big personality for such a delicate, womanly creature. “Okay, so we’ll have to figure this out together. I’ve never led.”

“Oh, I find that hard to believe, lieutenant,” she chuckles suggestively and I have to laugh quietly, pulling her closer, our bodies nestling, getting caught up with the music.

“Okay, upright and to music while dressed in my formals,” I agreed placidly, with a subtle leer in my tone, and her giggles take on a sweetly embarrassed tone.

“I asked for that one,” she admits, that dark head dropping to my shoulder wearily, the fragrance of that amazing mane surrounding me in a euphoric cloud.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Call me Laura?”

Yep, definitely in trouble now…

++ Laura ++

Okay, that came out far more needy than I’d intended. Unable to see Kara’s face, I try to guess her response by the tiny falter in her body language, not daring to look. “I’d like that,” finally reaches my ears, the girlish voice deep and throaty with emotions I dare not guess at, but still made my nerves shiver. “Laura.”

More time passes while the prying eyes become more sporadic and I find myself melting trustingly into the curvy, muscled frame. Half-asleep, I’m startled by her voice, quiet at my ear.

“Bet your feet are killing you.”

“Why yes,” I marvel, pulling my head up to look into the playful gaze. “Does it show?”

“Not really. I just know that these are new to your wardrobe and you’ve been in them all night.”

“You know my wardrobe?”

The instant I ask the playful question, I wish that I could take it back. I remember that ‘oh shit’ expression from the incident of trying to steal the tylium asteroid from the Cylons. It’s a classic ‘deer in the headlights’ and it makes her appear impossibly young and vulnerable. Then my own expression registers and she instantly calms into being sheepish, accompanied by a self-conscious shrug. “You’ve got great legs. So yeah, noticed the shoes.”

Well, that was certainly damn well good enough for me. Stepping away from Kara for a moment, I balance myself with the hand on her shoulder and yank the heels off. Sighing gustily in relief from the unfamiliar pinch of the evil things, I toss them unceremoniously onto an empty table nearby. Kara chortles in delight at my spontaneity, tugging me close again.



“And I don’t feel so short now,” she chuckles throatily. There is no formality now, my hands looped loosely over her shoulders, her fingers laced together in the small of my back.

A long, blissful time passes like that.

My attraction to this golden girl makes me indiscrete, pressed closer than the event dictates, my hands pressed to the curve of her shoulders, wanting desperately to wander. There was something unbearably teasing about Starbuck in the stuffy, formal uniform, as though it is slyly hiding what she normally shows off, making me all the more aware of what lay beneath.

Later, I will be surprised that no one bothers us. No obvious photographs are taken, no one butts in with obnoxious questions or wants to cut in. Instead, we’re wrapped up in this fine and private conversation our bodies are having.

A low chime like silver bells echoes through the room, stirring the sluggish crowd. Lazily raising my head from Kara’s shoulder, I’m squeezed breathless by those well-developed arms. “Happy Winter Solstice,” she whispers for my ears alone, as the cry rises more enthusiastically from the crowd.

++ Kara ++

Alas, the magic is over. The midnight hour has snuck up and the new year has begun. Now, she will leave me, and I’ll crawl off to my rack to obsess over how she felt in my arms.

How she felt like she was mine, for this brief, glorious time.

While the crowd whoops it up happily, we seem caught up in whatever hovers between us, Laura and I. Even in my head, I relish the sound of her name, the way it tastes on my tongue. Something is mirrored in her eyes, reflected from me, a loop of time, frozen on repeat.

How different she is from all others who have tugged at my fickle heart. How opposite, how blissfully strange. This is no man, no warrior in the physical sense, no physically overbearing stud that would subdue my reservations. This woman is deadly keen in mind and spirit, a pacifist, a politician, a teacher, a fiery soul, a natural leader, a religious figure. And in that enigmatic combination of things, my heart and soul, my mind and body, always seems a bit lost.

Dark eyes, deep and magnetic, seem to mirror that in her eyes, making me humble and brave.

When Laura leans in close, I meet her halfway.

That first brush of her slender mouth on mine is a breath, a silken tease. Nervous, she pauses, and I inhale the warm scent of her breath, knowing her now. Those lips alight again, at the tender corner of mine, where smiles and frowns would etch their history into my skin with time. Where her long life has marked her, where I really, really needed to taste and feel before the magic wore off.

Sighing shakily, Laura does not pull away from my searching lips, she does not pull away from the gentle, implacable insistence I seem helpless to control. She presses back, demanding entrance to my mouth, making a low sound that makes the fine hairs on my body stand on alert end. Her soft, dignified hands cup my skull, making me feel very safe and wanted, flicked at my little stub of ponytail.

All else fades away.

That thick hair warms my hand, as it slides up her narrow back and wallows in the heat. My throat let escape some desperate, quiet sound, my hand at her back pressing her to me, begging.

When she at last allows a breath of air between us, I’m light-headed, and open blurry eyes to stare in stupefied amazement at this woman who had branded me.

With only a kiss.

Fear flickers in the heat, her body abruptly stiffens, her heart leaves her smoky eyes. Desperate, I grip her tighter, reigniting the conflict wrestling behind her eyes.

For a long, endless moment, I can’t breathe.

++ Laura ++

Oh… oh, if only I had known. If I had known how she would feel, how she would taste…

I would have run like hell to save my sanity.

Because now I’ve touched the forbidden, got the drug in my veins, and I can feel her like gravity, tugging at me. Those expressive eyes are unshielded and guileless, searching mine for answers to questions neither of us has asked. She will not allow me escape, those powerful arms gripping me so distractingly close, those magnetic eyes holding me captive.

Must escape, I rail desperately in my mind, feeling the crowd and the press of want and need rising up inside of me. Must escape and forget all of this. Leave my heart and hope in tatters at her feet.


And she’s won.

Just like that.

With the talisman of my name, used like magic that was finite, she has roped me in with her sweet chemistry, her smell and touch and taste and feel.

“Happy Solstice,” some artificially sane part of me whispers hoarsely. “Would you mind taking me home?”

“I would be delighted,” Kara murmurs in a tone I’ve never heard before, smoky, raw, loving. Any shreds of sanity are gone now, and I’m strictly on autopilot.

There are quick, holiday kisses and hugs and well-wishes passed around, but I am only really aware of her sweaty hand in my cold one. Both of us are nervous, and that made me feel better. I note the knowing gleam in Bill’s eye, the tone of warning there. Feeling reckless and heady, I ignore it, kiss him firmly and allow myself to be led away. Lee has a similar reaction to Kara, and she follows my cue, kissing the younger Adama and shoving him off.

Several of the pilots and soldiers look at me knowingly, and I stare them down. Not one of them can resist looking away first, and I take pride in my accomplishment. Tonight, Kara Thrace is mine, and all others can frak off.

And finally, finally we can escape, walking through the halls of Galactica in a throbbing silence and the rhythmic beat of her soft-soled boots. I grip the high heels in my free hand, padding along silently at her side, unable to look at her in fear of what I might do.

Breathe, just keep breathing.

The shuttle trip is interminable, Kara strokes my knuckles with her free hand, explores the soft webbing where it pulls tight around her fingers. Every brush is like fire on my nerves, my breathing grows heavy, rough, desperate. I can barely see, can’t think, can’t…

++ Kara ++

Still stunned at the place I’ve won, here by her side, her breathing harsh and shallow, I absently stroke my fingertips against her skin. Lacking my lost paintbrushes and pigments, I trace patterns that only I can see on this new canvass. I draw hope and lust and fear and need, there where life has worn familiar lines into the back of her fingers and palm.

I suddenly miss my paints desperately, because how else can I hope to capture all of this? Words are wildly inadequate, my vocabulary reduced to my pounding heart. All I can do is talk through my gentle touch, enthralled by the way her grip grows tighter and tighter and tighter. Trapped by her whitened knuckles, my digits tingling from blood loss, I follow her from the shuttle, dragged along bodily by her willowy frame.

Ah good, there are surprises to her, I like that.

The bossiness doesn’t surprise me, but her lust-fueled strength does, and when I dig in my heels for a moment, she whirls on me. Oh, the look on her face, the firestorm in her eye. She looks almost angry, and the crazy that I’ve seen lurk beneath the calm surface is melting the ice, salivating at me. Once, I went to the famous zoos of Picion, bored on shore leave. There was a creature there, a big, black cat with eyes that preyed on you right through the bars.

I stood there, staring at that cat for hours.

This look in Laura’s eyes seems eerily familiar. The beast lurking in her, trapped behind the bars of protocol and society.

I want that beast loose, want her need to paint me sweaty, leave me bruised and hurting and marked for life.

So we stand there, face to face, separated by the lengths of our arms, bound by the crush of twined fingers and hot gazes. Slowly, I tilt my head, watching her shape-shifting gaze as it falls hopelessly to the length of bare, vulnerable flesh I’ve exposed so trustingly. Flicking my head, the few stray yellow hairs slip away and I pose there, in the harsh ship’s light.

Eyes slit to near-blindness, I tug at her hand, willing her to me. Some sane corner of my animal-addled brain knows that this is a bad place for this game, right outside the airlock of Colonial One, but I hardly care. Her mouth on my throat will seal the deal, and there would be no getting rid of me then.

“Laura,” I whisper, remembering the effect her name had on her. Breath caught in her tense throat, a stuttered hiss of air made me feel invincible. “I need you.”

++ Laura ++

Oh ancestors and Gods, I am helpless to move right now. Just this simple gesture, the tight tendons and muscles and arteries bared so trustingly, has me dizzily insane. Gleaming skin like marble beckons me, my mouth floods with saliva, other parts of me just as wet. I’m soaking this nice outfit in sweat and lubrication.

The onset of mother dying, my inheritance of her cancer, middle-age and all of those changes, capped off by the end of the world, had me resigned to spinsterhood. Yet, here I was, panting for this sweet young thing like a teenage boy, and more sexually aware of myself than I had been since my own adolescence.

Drawn to her like iron to a magnet, I step in close, breathe over her bared flesh, feel her shudder in response to the animal-like snort of moist, body-hot air. Breathing the scent of her over my mucous membranes, the aroma settles into my brain and bones.

The instant her free hand once more curls around my waist, I give in with a groan that is breathless and wanton to even my own ringing ears. She tastes of hard work and merriment, of taking every moment and draining every drop from it. She tastes of that antique Battlestar, that distinctive combination of age and machinery and hundreds of bodies packed in too closely. She tastes clean and dirty and very, very alive.

Something in me has broken free, bared its teeth, worrying at that tight flesh as though I really did want to take a bite out of her. Like a vampire tempted with red blood so close to the skin, I feel a near frenzy coming on. And the sounds bubbling up from her chest… low, lusty, but oh-so-quiet, as though she’s trying to protect herself from being discovered.

And this, fully clothed in a semi-public place.

What would happen when we were alone?

Fear torn apart by lust, I really, really need to find out the full extent of possibilities between us. “My room,” I grate out harshly, shaking as I force myself away from her, away from the dazed look in those wolf-eyes. “Come on.”

There’s the usual crowd in the main passenger compartment, all thankfully asleep as we creep silently through the government spaces. The sound of my small room’s door thumping shut has never sounded so good.

Nor had its frame ever felt so welcome, as Kara shoves me into it, her body hard and demanding against mine.

++ Kara ++

No more fooling around, I needed her, and badly. Now was the time for touch and taste and finding out how slick her skin was beneath the holiday clothes. Open and wet, her mouth is punishing on mine, teeth catching at my lips, tongue tangling with mine. The burn is already making me desperately stupid, hips rocking into hers, hands tugging at that glorious hair.

With much giggling and groaning, somehow we make it to the bed, my jacket yanked away, the silky red wrap pooled on the sheets. Laura chuckles throatily as I rub my face into her belly, happy to feel the satiny camisole up close, but even more happy with the shape of her beneath.

“Oh Kara,” she moans softly, the rich layers of texture in her tone adding fuel to the fire.

“Y’know, I knew you were expressive,” I say conversationally, tugging the camisole over her head. “But I really like the way you sound all worked up like this. Gods, you’re gorgeous.” As slender as I expected, her contours are earthy, soft and intoxicating. Doing my best to ignore the hands in my hair, I cup her cloth-covered breasts in my hands, not certain that I can feel the deadly cancer, or if there is something I should or shouldn’t do.

“Flattery…” Oh, my ego likes that her rich voice falters, the soulful eyes sliding shut as my thumbs rub tenderly over those hardened nipples. “Will get you everywhere.”

I have no clue where the sudden lightheartedness comes from, but I’m certainly not complaining. First times can be so rough on a soul. Fun is always better. Abruptly shifting my weight around, I sit up on my heels and give her my best ‘don’t frak with me’ look. “Roll onto your stomach.” After a moment of holding my gaze, she obeys. Good thing too, because it’s written in her eyes as a truth I already knew.

No one can make this singular woman do anything she doesn’t damn well want to do. But my reward for pushing her buttons is that slim back, open to my perusal. This woman’s armor is totally different than mine, than anyone I’ve even known. I’m a poor kid from the wastelands of Caprica City, and ruthlessly broken fingers and other abuses from the one person supposed to love me unconditionally, taught me that armor was brash and angry and in your face. This cultured woman is stronger than I, soft, feminine, well-spoken and as implacable as trying to bend steel with bare hands.

Though there’s certainly no steel in her spine now, as I bend to worship at the altar of her trustingly exposed back. Hard to say who enjoying this more, me or her. Lips and tongue are my tools, mapping the terrain of her body, looping over shoulder blades, suckling down the shallow groove of spine, tracing patterns over hard ribs, hidden just beneath. Breathing hard, our lungs in time, I gather the material of her skirt and whatever lay beneath in shaking fingers, tugging urgently.

++ Laura ++

Mad with desire, I writhe to the music of her touch. The black skirt is going fast, the wispy layer beneath carried along for the ride. Then I feel that impossibly wonderful mouth at my tailbone, her hot breath teasing over the curves of my ass, sneaking between. Rolling over in a frenzy, I sit up, grabbing her tousled hair to kiss her ruthlessly, demandingly, distractingly.

“Want to feel you, Kara, please!”

While I toss away the loosened bra and kick off the rest of my clothes, I watch Kara grab handfuls of shirt and peel her entire torso naked in one smooth move. A click and a zip have her down to shorts even as I am processing the glory of her growing nakedness. “In and outta clothes fast is part of being a Viper pilot,” she chuckles breathlessly at my gawk. “When we’re not so rushed, like you to strip me.”

“Yes,” I groan, relishing the glimpse of the dark blonde triangle at the top of her thighs, the curvy lines of her magnificently toned body.

And then, she is pressing down on my smaller frame and all thought flees again. My universe narrows to her soft-hard body, her weight atop me, her thigh tucked up securely between mine, her wet slick and hot on my own leg, sweat and saliva mixing into the headiest cocktail.

Neither of us last very long.

Shocked, the rumbles of orgasm tremble deep in my guts, making me squeak breathlessly with the unexpectedness of it. Grinning wryly, blonde hair wildly askew, Kara props herself on an elbow as my brain and body goes to that singular place of sexual fulfillment. Hauling my knee up, the friction and thrust of her skin against my softness spiral the pleasure higher and I shout with the bliss of it all.

Sense returns even as Kara groans heavily, the press of her hips growing uncoordinated, sweat breaking over her skin. Huffing with effort, she collapses onto her side, expression completely unfocused. “So beautiful,” murmurs up from my chest, as I too move to my side, only a few inches separating our overheated bodies. My eyes flicker from her clearing expression, to where I lovingly run my hand over her heated flesh, back and forth.

It’s the smile that finally catches my attention and holds it, that slow, magnetic, loving curl of that expressive mouth. I’ll bet she’s rarely this unguarded, and I’m humbled, hesitantly wiggling my body up against hers. The smile deepens and something deeper than sex and hormones shifts deep inside my soul. Gentle, calloused fingertips trace my features, that smile grounding me. When Kara does finally speak, her voice is hoarse and whispery.

“Been wanting you for awhile. Couldn’t get my mind to stop. Not at all what I expected.”

++ Kara ++

Sure, I’m rambling a bit randomly, but my brain’s still a little high, and her soft expression is completely derailing my train of thought. I haven’t even been able to imagine this woman looking so relaxed and loving, so the reality is making me an idiot. Touching my mouth and cheeks and brows softly, she smiles gently. “Me too.”

Then we’re giggling, wrapped in a loose hug. “I think we trashed this great jacket,” I mourn, plucking at the shocking red fabric still trapped beneath us. “Damn shame too, because it looks amazing on you.”

“It did its job,” Laura smirks, pausing to yawn. “It made me feel wonderful in it, and got you in my bed.” Eyes suddenly intent, face focused, Laura shoves me onto my back and straddles my hips, giving me a hell of a nice view. “I’ve wanted you for an awful long time.”

“Really? It’s mutual, I assure you.”

“Are you getting all formal on me now?”

Oh, I liked her all teasing like this. “No…” Wait, remember the look on her face earlier, Kara. “Laura,” I purr like that big zoo big cat, squirming my body beneath hers. In an instant, those amazing eyes go from playful to smoky, and I’m once again being willingly ravaged. She’s a great kisser, sloppy and intimate, proving to me that she’s really into it. It’s easy to match her energy, nipping at her active lips, guiding her roving hands, groaning and gasping along when she finds good spots to touch. It’s so easy to lay back and just let her go at me like a fresh kill, letting my voice and body encourage her, get her more and more worked up.

Moaning along wantonly, I play it up, not that I really need to, she’s making me crazy. Gripping the bedding, I squirm, thighs open around her slim body. By the time she finally trails a couple of fingers down to finish me off, I’m begging incoherently.

Gathering my wits takes a few minutes. “Damn, that was a nice trip,” I finally purr lazily, hugging her closely, making her squeak for mercy. “Now,” I announce matter-of-factly and roll us over, kissing her deeply. “There are several things I’d really like to try on you.”

“Carry on, officer,” she chuckles, settling into a comfortable position to watch me make love to her, slow and torturous. Gods, but it’s fun to get her so wild that she’s yanking on my hair painfully, trying to get me to move faster. Nope, I’m having none of it, ignoring her pleas and demands. Gonna put her in orbit around the nearest sun if I can.

Breasts, belly, the point of hipbones, the tickly curves and hollows of her ribcage and navel, this is the start of my new territory, and I think I’d really like to live here. She tastes like sex and home and sweet sin, intoxicating me. The grip of those fabulous legs I have long admired around my head is the best damn Solstice gift I’ve ever received.

The cuddling’s just as good, the soft kisses, the dazed, loving look in her eye. “Oh, by the way,” I grin, rubbing our noses together affectionately. “Merry New Year.”

And together, we celebrate with laughter and love.

And they live happily after!