"Beneath the Stars Came Falling on Our Heads" - Adama/Roslin Fic
Title: Beneath the Stars Came Falling on Our Heads
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: R
Word Count: 1, 370 words
Disclaimer: Not my characters or television show.
A/N: Thanks to redrockcan for her beta. This was written for the battleship challenge, for Team Laura, at about_time. Prompts that were filled: "this time last year," a fic of more than 500 words. The title is taken from the song "Samson" by Regina Spektor.
The first thing that he noticed as he entered the cabin was the soft, pale light emanating from the strategically placed candles. The second was that Laura Roslin was sitting on her rack, waiting for him wearing nothing but her robe and a conspiratorial smirk.
“Admiral,” she said softly, a hint of mischief colouring her tone.
“Laura,” he sighed. He had come tonight for the woman, not the title, for his lover, not his President.
“You look tired, why don’t you come to bed?” she suggested.
His shoulders were slumped forward, a result of the many years he had been shouldering the fate of humanity along with his own crushing guilt. His bones ached, his heart bled, he was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of running, tired of losing. He longed with all his being for the brief moment of respite that Laura offered him now, yet he feared that he would get lost in it. He had made that mistake once, on New Caprica, and they had paid the price in lives.
Laura sensed his hesitation, his internal conflict, and rose to meet him halfway.
“Bill?” Hands on either side of his face, she leaned forward and upward to kiss him softly, just as she had merely hours ago. This time, he returned her kiss, albeit reluctantly. He parted from her gently, taking her hands in his and holding them against his chest.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he chastised her softly. “You should be in the middle of a treatment, getting better. You should be fighting your war, and I should be at your side. You shouldn’t be pandering to the selfish wants of an old man,” he said regretfully.
“William Adama,” she said sharply. “Don’t you dare use that martyr complex with me. You are not selfish, this isn’t just your want, it’s mine as well. I need this, we need this.” Angry tears of frustration slipped down her hollow cheek, her too pale skin flushed slightly with the anger and passion that swirled within her.
“I want to live Bill,” she confessed, her voice above a breathy whisper. “I want to live and love before I die, and I want to do that with you.” He pulled her smaller frame into a loving embrace; she was so slight now that he could wrap his arms all the way around her.
“Do you remember what we were doing this time last year?” she asked against the skin of his neck. Bill could hear the smile in her voice that framed her words.
Tangy smoke, the evening’s chilled breeze, a lake so clear it was like looking through glass, stars, so many stars surrounding them, her naked body, so pale against the stars, so warm and alive; these were the bittersweet memories that had haunted him for the last year.
“You were showing me where we were going to build your cabin,” he replied. “You led me to a clearing in the woods, we danced by the lake.”
She hummed in agreement, in contentment.
“You had one of those cigarettes in your bra, when you pulled it out I had to talk myself out of throwing you to the ground and frakking you senseless.” Both of their bodies shook, giddy with laughter, with each other.
“I wouldn’t have minded you know, I was sort of hoping that you would take that route,” she said seductively.
“We laid out under the stars,” he continued. “You let me hold you and I remembered thinking, ‘this is how I want to spend the rest of my life. If I die now, I can die happy.’ I didn’t want that night to ever end,” he said in a note akin to sadness.
Laura smiled to herself; of all the men in the universe, she had fallen for the biggest, most wonderfully romantic man she’d ever met. There was an irony in that, one that she found at once delightful and perfectly appropriate.
“I didn’t want to leave you in the morning. When the Cylons came, I-“
Laura silenced him with a kiss, holding him to her fiercely.
“The Cylons won’t come for us tomorrow morning,” she said firmly as they parted. “Even if they do, I can’t think of a better way to spend our last hours together.”
With that, she tugged him lightly towards her rack. He went willingly. Slowly and deliberately she undressed him, and he her, until their bare limbs were intertwined as they lay on the narrow bunk.
“I remember something else from that night,” she hummed as he trailed his lips across the familiar path of her neck and collarbone. “I remember you telling me that you loved me.” She gasped as his inquisitive mouth and tongue caressed her breast.
“I do love you,” he mumbled against her flesh. “I always have,” he admitted softly.
“I wanted to tell you, “ she arched into his gentle yet deliberate touches. “You deserved to know. You give so much Bill, you love so deeply, but I was so afraid, I couldn’t tell you,” she said mournfully.
He ceased his explorations and gathered her more fully into his arms.
“I was so scared,” she continued. “When you told me, I had this fleeting thought, this revelation that I couldn’t live out the rest of my life if you weren’t in it. “
She trembled in his arms from the weight of her confession. He placed thoughtful, loving kisses across her bare head.
“On that basestar, Gods, I didn’t tell you, but I saw you. I saw us. And it was perfect, tragic because I was leaving you, but perfect because you never left my side.”
She kissed him then, so fiercely and so determinedly that it took him by surprise. He held her as she poured every last ounce of her love for him into the act, as he felt the devotion that she had to him being branded into his very flesh.
She felt breathless and dizzy when she parted from him, as well as content and secure.
“I promise you, as long as I am living, I will never leave your side,” he said as he slipped his ring off of his finger. Laura’s breath hitched as he gathered her left hand in his own, kissing it reverently before sliding the ring on her finger.
“It will need to be resized,” he said sheepishly.
“It’s perfect,” she quickly insisted. His answering grin was so beautiful it nearly broke her heart.
He made love slowly and thoughtfully to her. Her body not being what it once was responded to his touches with muted efficiency. As she climaxed, the gentle waves rolled languorously up and down her spine, spreading like a slow burning fire throughout her limbs. Bill followed her shortly with a graceless jerk of his hips and a growled endearment.
He made to remove his bulk from her but she pulled him towards her.
“And where do you think you are going?” she asked him saucily and he could not help but chuckle and squeeze her flank affectionately. She responded by ruffling his hair, the large ring on her finger fell forward and into is eyes.
“Frak,” he murmured.
“Here,” she slipped it back onto his finger. “We’ll have to find a chain so I can wear it around my neck, for now, you wear it.” She kissed the palm of his hand sweetly.
She sighed happily as he rearranged them so that her back was tucked securely against his chest. Their limbs were heavy with the anticipation of the peaceful slumber that follows lovemaking.
“Bill?”
“Hmm?” He continued to trail lazy, warm kisses across her shoulder.
“This is how I want to spend the rest of my life,” she said, echoing his thoughts from a year ago. “If we die tomorrow, I’ll die happy as long as I have you next to me.”
His answering response was a gentle squeeze around her middle and a firmer kiss against her skin.
“I love you,” she sighed happily as slumber fell gently upon them.
The candles flickered all around them, and Bill’s last thought was how similar they were to the burning stars of so many light years away.
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: R
Word Count: 1, 370 words
Disclaimer: Not my characters or television show.
A/N: Thanks to redrockcan for her beta. This was written for the battleship challenge, for Team Laura, at about_time. Prompts that were filled: "this time last year," a fic of more than 500 words. The title is taken from the song "Samson" by Regina Spektor.
The first thing that he noticed as he entered the cabin was the soft, pale light emanating from the strategically placed candles. The second was that Laura Roslin was sitting on her rack, waiting for him wearing nothing but her robe and a conspiratorial smirk.
“Admiral,” she said softly, a hint of mischief colouring her tone.
“Laura,” he sighed. He had come tonight for the woman, not the title, for his lover, not his President.
“You look tired, why don’t you come to bed?” she suggested.
His shoulders were slumped forward, a result of the many years he had been shouldering the fate of humanity along with his own crushing guilt. His bones ached, his heart bled, he was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of running, tired of losing. He longed with all his being for the brief moment of respite that Laura offered him now, yet he feared that he would get lost in it. He had made that mistake once, on New Caprica, and they had paid the price in lives.
Laura sensed his hesitation, his internal conflict, and rose to meet him halfway.
“Bill?” Hands on either side of his face, she leaned forward and upward to kiss him softly, just as she had merely hours ago. This time, he returned her kiss, albeit reluctantly. He parted from her gently, taking her hands in his and holding them against his chest.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he chastised her softly. “You should be in the middle of a treatment, getting better. You should be fighting your war, and I should be at your side. You shouldn’t be pandering to the selfish wants of an old man,” he said regretfully.
“William Adama,” she said sharply. “Don’t you dare use that martyr complex with me. You are not selfish, this isn’t just your want, it’s mine as well. I need this, we need this.” Angry tears of frustration slipped down her hollow cheek, her too pale skin flushed slightly with the anger and passion that swirled within her.
“I want to live Bill,” she confessed, her voice above a breathy whisper. “I want to live and love before I die, and I want to do that with you.” He pulled her smaller frame into a loving embrace; she was so slight now that he could wrap his arms all the way around her.
“Do you remember what we were doing this time last year?” she asked against the skin of his neck. Bill could hear the smile in her voice that framed her words.
Tangy smoke, the evening’s chilled breeze, a lake so clear it was like looking through glass, stars, so many stars surrounding them, her naked body, so pale against the stars, so warm and alive; these were the bittersweet memories that had haunted him for the last year.
“You were showing me where we were going to build your cabin,” he replied. “You led me to a clearing in the woods, we danced by the lake.”
She hummed in agreement, in contentment.
“You had one of those cigarettes in your bra, when you pulled it out I had to talk myself out of throwing you to the ground and frakking you senseless.” Both of their bodies shook, giddy with laughter, with each other.
“I wouldn’t have minded you know, I was sort of hoping that you would take that route,” she said seductively.
“We laid out under the stars,” he continued. “You let me hold you and I remembered thinking, ‘this is how I want to spend the rest of my life. If I die now, I can die happy.’ I didn’t want that night to ever end,” he said in a note akin to sadness.
Laura smiled to herself; of all the men in the universe, she had fallen for the biggest, most wonderfully romantic man she’d ever met. There was an irony in that, one that she found at once delightful and perfectly appropriate.
“I didn’t want to leave you in the morning. When the Cylons came, I-“
Laura silenced him with a kiss, holding him to her fiercely.
“The Cylons won’t come for us tomorrow morning,” she said firmly as they parted. “Even if they do, I can’t think of a better way to spend our last hours together.”
With that, she tugged him lightly towards her rack. He went willingly. Slowly and deliberately she undressed him, and he her, until their bare limbs were intertwined as they lay on the narrow bunk.
“I remember something else from that night,” she hummed as he trailed his lips across the familiar path of her neck and collarbone. “I remember you telling me that you loved me.” She gasped as his inquisitive mouth and tongue caressed her breast.
“I do love you,” he mumbled against her flesh. “I always have,” he admitted softly.
“I wanted to tell you, “ she arched into his gentle yet deliberate touches. “You deserved to know. You give so much Bill, you love so deeply, but I was so afraid, I couldn’t tell you,” she said mournfully.
He ceased his explorations and gathered her more fully into his arms.
“I was so scared,” she continued. “When you told me, I had this fleeting thought, this revelation that I couldn’t live out the rest of my life if you weren’t in it. “
She trembled in his arms from the weight of her confession. He placed thoughtful, loving kisses across her bare head.
“On that basestar, Gods, I didn’t tell you, but I saw you. I saw us. And it was perfect, tragic because I was leaving you, but perfect because you never left my side.”
She kissed him then, so fiercely and so determinedly that it took him by surprise. He held her as she poured every last ounce of her love for him into the act, as he felt the devotion that she had to him being branded into his very flesh.
She felt breathless and dizzy when she parted from him, as well as content and secure.
“I promise you, as long as I am living, I will never leave your side,” he said as he slipped his ring off of his finger. Laura’s breath hitched as he gathered her left hand in his own, kissing it reverently before sliding the ring on her finger.
“It will need to be resized,” he said sheepishly.
“It’s perfect,” she quickly insisted. His answering grin was so beautiful it nearly broke her heart.
He made love slowly and thoughtfully to her. Her body not being what it once was responded to his touches with muted efficiency. As she climaxed, the gentle waves rolled languorously up and down her spine, spreading like a slow burning fire throughout her limbs. Bill followed her shortly with a graceless jerk of his hips and a growled endearment.
He made to remove his bulk from her but she pulled him towards her.
“And where do you think you are going?” she asked him saucily and he could not help but chuckle and squeeze her flank affectionately. She responded by ruffling his hair, the large ring on her finger fell forward and into is eyes.
“Frak,” he murmured.
“Here,” she slipped it back onto his finger. “We’ll have to find a chain so I can wear it around my neck, for now, you wear it.” She kissed the palm of his hand sweetly.
She sighed happily as he rearranged them so that her back was tucked securely against his chest. Their limbs were heavy with the anticipation of the peaceful slumber that follows lovemaking.
“Bill?”
“Hmm?” He continued to trail lazy, warm kisses across her shoulder.
“This is how I want to spend the rest of my life,” she said, echoing his thoughts from a year ago. “If we die tomorrow, I’ll die happy as long as I have you next to me.”
His answering response was a gentle squeeze around her middle and a firmer kiss against her skin.
“I love you,” she sighed happily as slumber fell gently upon them.
The candles flickered all around them, and Bill’s last thought was how similar they were to the burning stars of so many light years away.