AR MOL V
Posted forchildminerva
MOL “Ice” - August 10th
Title: Clear As Glass
Rating: T
Genre: Fluff of the tangy variety
Summary: Bill and Laura have fun with some ice cubes. Set on Happy!Earth (as opposed to Emo!Earth).
***
Of all the delights of living on Earth, fundamental and trivial, ice cubes were one of Laura Roslin’s favorites. Of course they’d had ice in the fleet, but there was a significant difference between stale frozen water and freshly frozen purified water from a tap, the small pieces clear as glass as they melted in the heat of the day. They were also delightful ways of tormenting others.
Bill was only steps away from the screen door of the porch, on his way out for an afternoon walk, when she snuck up behind him, the ice in her hand ready for its journey down the collar of his shirt.
It was such a small piece of ice compared to the yelp of surprise that erupted from Bill’s throat when Laura’s nimble fingers had accomplished their mischievous task. She giggled, rejoicing in the freedom to indulge in such a prank. Bill grumbled good naturedly and flashed her a devastating grin. A grin that could have melted a heart of stone, and Laura’s heart was certainly not made of stone, especially when it came to Bill Adama.
“Cute,” he told her, his voice dipping down into a mock growl as he advanced upon her, forcing her off porch and back into the kitchen. “Very cute.”
Laura giggled again, then squealed as the cup of ice was snatched from her hand. The playful look in his eyes was very promising and her body tensed in anticipation of the ice that would undoubtedly find its way down the back of her shirt. Bill had slightly different plans. He had backed her into the kitchen counter, their kitchen counter, and pinned her there with one leg pressed between hers.
Bill smirked and deposited the glass on the countertop, but not before removing a large chunk of ice. His eyes never left Laura’s and she had to wonder just what torture this man before her had in mind. He held her there as he considered his next move, the ice in his right hand slowly melting and dripping water onto her bare foot, causing her to squirm.
After a moment, Bill grinned and switched the cube of ice to his left hand, the other moving swiftly under Laura’s blouse. She gasped as his cold fingers skimmed over her stomach and stopped at her breast. Once there, Bill’s thumb, still wet from the ice, slipped under her bra and traced circles across her eager nipple. His fingers lingered there as his mouth found the smooth skin of her neck.
Laura sighed with pleasure at the contrasting sensations, the warmth of Bill’s mouth and the delicious icy work of his fingertips which were now tracing madding circles across her fluttering stomach. She gasped in surprise as his other hand landed on her hip, the ice in his palm sharp as a thorn on her bare skin. Bill chuckled against her neck at her reaction and she swatted his head lightly even as she giggled and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
Bill looked up from his attentions to her neck and shoulder and gave Laura another toothy grin then kissed her lightly on the lips, distracting her momentarily as he reached for another piece of ice from the glass behind her.
A brief touch with the new ice to the back of Laura’s neck earned Bill another slap on the head, this one not as gentle as the first. But he merely smiled and placed a series of gentle kisses across her nose and cheeks, quite happy with this new game and more than willing to endure a few blows if it meant he could keep playing. Laura couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm and the pure joy she felt at being with this man in a place where they were no longer weighed down with fear or responsibility.
Her laughter was quickly silenced by the sharp chill of Bill’s water-slicked hands trailing across the curves of her breasts, exposed by the three buttons he had somehow managed to undo without her knowledge. His hands slowly moved lower, opening her shirt and occasionally tickling her sides.
When he had finally finished undoing all the buttons of the blouse, Bill placed the ice between his lips and sank down onto his knees in front of her. Hands holding her hips, he painted icy swirls across her skin as Laura tried in vain to control the jumping of her stomach. A pink flush started at her breasts and ran all the way up to her neck as her legs buckled. Fighting to stay upright, Laura was forced to brace herself with a hand on Bill’s strong shoulder as the fingers of the other threaded through his hair.
“Gods, Bill,” she breathed.
Her grip on his hair tightened as he slipped the ice into his mouth, tracing her navel with his tongue instead.
Laura’s ears were filled with the heavy pounding of her own heart and the harsh sound of her breathing; Bill was engrossed with the sweet taste of her skin and the task of unzipping her pants. Neither heard the knocking, or the squeak of the screen door. But in the split second between hearing their former titles spoken from the direction of the back porch and the intruder stepping inside, Laura managed to wrap her shirt around her exposed torso and utter a single word.
“Frak.”
“Madam President, so sorry to just walk in…”
Laura missed his explanation. All that would register with her arousal fogged mind was that Felix Gaeta was standing in the doorway and that Bill Adama was still on his knees before her, head buried in her navel. She could only thank the gods that she had convinced Bill to build the cooking island in the middle of the kitchen. It was the only thing standing between Gaeta and severe embarrassment for all involved.
“Was there something you needed, Felix?” She was permitted to call him that now; Laura only wished he would stop calling her “Madam President.” It made situations like this exponentially more awkward.
“Well, I came by to see if you and the Admiral -”
“Bill, you can call him Bill.” Laura found it difficult to speak the name herself when the man in question had decided to resume his ministrations and whose tongue was currently tracing her hipbone.
Gaeta cleared his throat and looked flustered.
“Right, well, I came by to see if the two of you would like to sit in on the review committee for the new civilian police recruits. In an unofficial capacity of course…”
As Gaeta rambled on about the honor of their presence and times and dates, shuffling though the papers he had brought with him, Laura tried in vain to make Bill stop without attracting the other man’s notice.
“Madam Pres - Ms. Roslin?” He had noticed. “Is everything all right?”
Careful to keep one arm around her chest to hold her shirt in place, praying he took it to be some type of wrap, Laura pushed some hair behind her ears in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner.
“Oh, fine. Everything’s fine,” she lied and silently cursed Bill for causing her voice to falter as his hands began moving up her legs. “Bill and I would be glad to visit the committee and, um!”
She bit down on her tongue as a wandering hand found the inside of her thigh.
Gaeta looked on in concern and took a step forward, causing Laura to jump in alarm.
“Perhaps I should just go ask the admiral.”
“Ah, well…”
“Where might I find him?”
Laura exhaled sharply and kicked at the man in front of her. Gaeta glanced towards the back of the house, then back to Laura. His eyes widened as he finally took in the state of her shirt and the way she held herself, with one hand continuously moving down to flick at something before her.
Realization came fast and hard; for a moment he merely gaped, his mouth opening and closing several times before he managed to meet Laura’s eyes once more.
“I’ll just call you, tomorrow, about the meeting and I’ll, I’ll just…go, now.”
Papers clutched to his chest, Gaeta left quickly, tripping over his cane and letting the screen door slam shut in his haste.
“Oh my gods.” Laura stared at the empty doorway in shock. “Poor Felix.”
Bill’s barely contained laughter finally spilled forth. Laura smacked him again.
“Of course it was funny for you! I was the one who had to stand here while he learned much more than he ever wanted to.”
“Wish I’d seen his face,” Bill chuckled, placing a light kiss on her abdomen. He grimaced suddenly as his extended stay on his knees began to bother him. Groaning, he rose slowly to his feet and held onto Laura’s hips for support.
He peered over her shoulder and frowned.
“Something wrong?”
Bill held up the glass he had placed behind her earlier.
“The ice melted. Guess we’ll just have to get more.”
“Oh, no!” Laura grabbed his arm as he moved towards the freezer. “No more of that for tonight. I’m cold enough, thanks.”
She could see disappointment flicker in his eyes before she spoke again, her voice low and suggestive.
“So I’ll be needing you to remedy that.”
Bill grinned again.
“Gladly.”
He kissed her, holding her tightly but Laura separated herself from his embrace abruptly and went to the back porch.
“Laura?”
After taking care of the screen door, she closed and locked the kitchen door, deadbolt and all. She smiled brightly as she returned to his arms.
“Just taking a few precautions.”
MOL “Ice” - August 10th
Title: Clear As Glass
Rating: T
Genre: Fluff of the tangy variety
Summary: Bill and Laura have fun with some ice cubes. Set on Happy!Earth (as opposed to Emo!Earth).
***
Of all the delights of living on Earth, fundamental and trivial, ice cubes were one of Laura Roslin’s favorites. Of course they’d had ice in the fleet, but there was a significant difference between stale frozen water and freshly frozen purified water from a tap, the small pieces clear as glass as they melted in the heat of the day. They were also delightful ways of tormenting others.
Bill was only steps away from the screen door of the porch, on his way out for an afternoon walk, when she snuck up behind him, the ice in her hand ready for its journey down the collar of his shirt.
It was such a small piece of ice compared to the yelp of surprise that erupted from Bill’s throat when Laura’s nimble fingers had accomplished their mischievous task. She giggled, rejoicing in the freedom to indulge in such a prank. Bill grumbled good naturedly and flashed her a devastating grin. A grin that could have melted a heart of stone, and Laura’s heart was certainly not made of stone, especially when it came to Bill Adama.
“Cute,” he told her, his voice dipping down into a mock growl as he advanced upon her, forcing her off porch and back into the kitchen. “Very cute.”
Laura giggled again, then squealed as the cup of ice was snatched from her hand. The playful look in his eyes was very promising and her body tensed in anticipation of the ice that would undoubtedly find its way down the back of her shirt. Bill had slightly different plans. He had backed her into the kitchen counter, their kitchen counter, and pinned her there with one leg pressed between hers.
Bill smirked and deposited the glass on the countertop, but not before removing a large chunk of ice. His eyes never left Laura’s and she had to wonder just what torture this man before her had in mind. He held her there as he considered his next move, the ice in his right hand slowly melting and dripping water onto her bare foot, causing her to squirm.
After a moment, Bill grinned and switched the cube of ice to his left hand, the other moving swiftly under Laura’s blouse. She gasped as his cold fingers skimmed over her stomach and stopped at her breast. Once there, Bill’s thumb, still wet from the ice, slipped under her bra and traced circles across her eager nipple. His fingers lingered there as his mouth found the smooth skin of her neck.
Laura sighed with pleasure at the contrasting sensations, the warmth of Bill’s mouth and the delicious icy work of his fingertips which were now tracing madding circles across her fluttering stomach. She gasped in surprise as his other hand landed on her hip, the ice in his palm sharp as a thorn on her bare skin. Bill chuckled against her neck at her reaction and she swatted his head lightly even as she giggled and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
Bill looked up from his attentions to her neck and shoulder and gave Laura another toothy grin then kissed her lightly on the lips, distracting her momentarily as he reached for another piece of ice from the glass behind her.
A brief touch with the new ice to the back of Laura’s neck earned Bill another slap on the head, this one not as gentle as the first. But he merely smiled and placed a series of gentle kisses across her nose and cheeks, quite happy with this new game and more than willing to endure a few blows if it meant he could keep playing. Laura couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm and the pure joy she felt at being with this man in a place where they were no longer weighed down with fear or responsibility.
Her laughter was quickly silenced by the sharp chill of Bill’s water-slicked hands trailing across the curves of her breasts, exposed by the three buttons he had somehow managed to undo without her knowledge. His hands slowly moved lower, opening her shirt and occasionally tickling her sides.
When he had finally finished undoing all the buttons of the blouse, Bill placed the ice between his lips and sank down onto his knees in front of her. Hands holding her hips, he painted icy swirls across her skin as Laura tried in vain to control the jumping of her stomach. A pink flush started at her breasts and ran all the way up to her neck as her legs buckled. Fighting to stay upright, Laura was forced to brace herself with a hand on Bill’s strong shoulder as the fingers of the other threaded through his hair.
“Gods, Bill,” she breathed.
Her grip on his hair tightened as he slipped the ice into his mouth, tracing her navel with his tongue instead.
Laura’s ears were filled with the heavy pounding of her own heart and the harsh sound of her breathing; Bill was engrossed with the sweet taste of her skin and the task of unzipping her pants. Neither heard the knocking, or the squeak of the screen door. But in the split second between hearing their former titles spoken from the direction of the back porch and the intruder stepping inside, Laura managed to wrap her shirt around her exposed torso and utter a single word.
“Frak.”
“Madam President, so sorry to just walk in…”
Laura missed his explanation. All that would register with her arousal fogged mind was that Felix Gaeta was standing in the doorway and that Bill Adama was still on his knees before her, head buried in her navel. She could only thank the gods that she had convinced Bill to build the cooking island in the middle of the kitchen. It was the only thing standing between Gaeta and severe embarrassment for all involved.
“Was there something you needed, Felix?” She was permitted to call him that now; Laura only wished he would stop calling her “Madam President.” It made situations like this exponentially more awkward.
“Well, I came by to see if you and the Admiral -”
“Bill, you can call him Bill.” Laura found it difficult to speak the name herself when the man in question had decided to resume his ministrations and whose tongue was currently tracing her hipbone.
Gaeta cleared his throat and looked flustered.
“Right, well, I came by to see if the two of you would like to sit in on the review committee for the new civilian police recruits. In an unofficial capacity of course…”
As Gaeta rambled on about the honor of their presence and times and dates, shuffling though the papers he had brought with him, Laura tried in vain to make Bill stop without attracting the other man’s notice.
“Madam Pres - Ms. Roslin?” He had noticed. “Is everything all right?”
Careful to keep one arm around her chest to hold her shirt in place, praying he took it to be some type of wrap, Laura pushed some hair behind her ears in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner.
“Oh, fine. Everything’s fine,” she lied and silently cursed Bill for causing her voice to falter as his hands began moving up her legs. “Bill and I would be glad to visit the committee and, um!”
She bit down on her tongue as a wandering hand found the inside of her thigh.
Gaeta looked on in concern and took a step forward, causing Laura to jump in alarm.
“Perhaps I should just go ask the admiral.”
“Ah, well…”
“Where might I find him?”
Laura exhaled sharply and kicked at the man in front of her. Gaeta glanced towards the back of the house, then back to Laura. His eyes widened as he finally took in the state of her shirt and the way she held herself, with one hand continuously moving down to flick at something before her.
Realization came fast and hard; for a moment he merely gaped, his mouth opening and closing several times before he managed to meet Laura’s eyes once more.
“I’ll just call you, tomorrow, about the meeting and I’ll, I’ll just…go, now.”
Papers clutched to his chest, Gaeta left quickly, tripping over his cane and letting the screen door slam shut in his haste.
“Oh my gods.” Laura stared at the empty doorway in shock. “Poor Felix.”
Bill’s barely contained laughter finally spilled forth. Laura smacked him again.
“Of course it was funny for you! I was the one who had to stand here while he learned much more than he ever wanted to.”
“Wish I’d seen his face,” Bill chuckled, placing a light kiss on her abdomen. He grimaced suddenly as his extended stay on his knees began to bother him. Groaning, he rose slowly to his feet and held onto Laura’s hips for support.
He peered over her shoulder and frowned.
“Something wrong?”
Bill held up the glass he had placed behind her earlier.
“The ice melted. Guess we’ll just have to get more.”
“Oh, no!” Laura grabbed his arm as he moved towards the freezer. “No more of that for tonight. I’m cold enough, thanks.”
She could see disappointment flicker in his eyes before she spoke again, her voice low and suggestive.
“So I’ll be needing you to remedy that.”
Bill grinned again.
“Gladly.”
He kissed her, holding her tightly but Laura separated herself from his embrace abruptly and went to the back porch.
“Laura?”
After taking care of the screen door, she closed and locked the kitchen door, deadbolt and all. She smiled brightly as she returned to his arms.
“Just taking a few precautions.”