fic: Games Adults Play (2/6)
Title: Games Adults Play (2/6)
Author: icedteainthebag
Pairings: Bill Adama/Ellen Tigh/Laura Roslin, think square dancing + Saul
Rating: MA
Summary: Ellen's return to the Fleet brings complications to Bill and Laura's lives.
Word Count: 2,908
Notes: Written for the bsg_epics ship swap exchange in order to fulfill wishflsinfl's request of Bill/Laura/Ellen, not PWP, in canon. So basically, write the impossible. Know that going in.
Links to: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
-
Ellen knew Bill Adama was an honest man. He was a loyal friend, like a rescued dog. A companion for life.
It's why he brought her back to Saul when Ellen was sure she was one of the last people Bill wanted to see pop into his life again.
Bill was the best kind of friend to have, except for the brief moments when he wasn't.
She used to think about it a lot, her mind whirring around the situation they'd fallen into on Caprica. Sometimes after Bill frakked her, in those quiet moments before she rolled over to leave, Ellen pondered why there were such opposing sides to this complicated man. Bill and Saul had been friends for as long as she could remember. They would do anything for each other and the paths of their lives seemed irrevocably intertwined. They'd climbed the proverbial ladder in the Fleet together and functioned so seamlessly that they almost seemed like the same man.
Maybe that is how she justified it-how she convinced herself it was okay to be having an affair with Bill, to lie to Saul about an outing.
It's not like it happened all the time. The fraks, they came and went, once a week, maybe a week off here or there. She never spent more than a few hours at his place. They never talked about it outside those walls. Maybe Bill thought it better that she was seeing him than some stranger or someone Saul didn't trust.
She didn't consider herself promiscuous. She couldn't explain why she kept this on, besides maybe she wanted a part of Saul's other life. Just to taste it, to feel it, to be a part of it, as warped as that might seem.
She wanted a piece of the great Bill Adama.
She didn't think Saul knew. She was so very good at tidying up loose ends, at concocting alibis and playing her part as a dutiful wife. Because she loved him-she truly did-and there was nothing she wanted more than the rest of her life with him. This was just an itch she needed to scratch. And most of the time Saul and Bill were on the ship together so it wasn't even an issue.
There were plenty of justifications.
But now, with all three of them on Galactica, things would become more complicated. Saul and Bill would be together all the time, on the job all the time. She had Saul available whenever she wanted, not thousands of miles away. She didn't need someone to fill in the gaps.
Technically, she didn't need someone.
Even so, when they retired to Saul's quarters upon her arrival and she took Saul inside of her and heard him moan, a terribly satisfying sound a man makes when he's found something he loves that he thought he'd lost, a small part of her wondered when she would be able to slip away to Adama's quarters.
Just to tell him all the details, if he had an ear to listen.
-
Bill's habit was slipping into old habits, usually the bad ones. He couldn't shake them. They stuck to him like burrs in his coat, pricking him at the most inopportune moments.
Ellen was one of those; alcohol was another. Combining them both was always a recipe for madness. In the past, that was all they did. They'd get drunk and things would progress and nobody stopped them. All honor and vows of loyalty were left at the door.
He didn't do guilt and rarely battled regret, always making an excuse for their slip-ups after they happened but never swearing off them.
Fate was a weak excuse, especially given that he didn't believe in it. But maybe these things were meant to happen-these moments when he and Ellen ended up alone, when they ended up kissing and stripping each other and frakking. Always frantic, usually rougher than he intended. Maybe it was a way of keeping her from straying any further than she already was. It was a warped sense of justification that led him to believe that his best friend's wife cheating with him was a better kind of cheating than that done with complete strangers. And him being with her was certainly better than a random bar hookup... she reminded him of that enough.
He had a plethora of convenient excuses that he applied, like a bandage, whenever the reality of their affair rubbed him raw.
And what was at the crux of the entire situation is that it was obvious to anyone who knew Ellen and Saul that they belonged together. Somehow, despite their disagreements and toxic behavior around each other, there was something about them that worked. Bill had intervened in more than a few fights between them and they were usually both too drunk to remember it the next day. But he never suggested to either of them that they leave the other-that wasn't his place. He guessed he was just there as some kind of support.
He would talk and drink it out with Saul, and talk and frak it out with his wife.
Sometimes he wondered if Saul knew. It was hard to believe that he wouldn't care; Saul was usually a territorial son of a bitch. Maybe he trusted that Bill wasn't going to sweep Ellen off her feet. There was no way that would ever happen-she'd always go home to Saul. Bill wouldn't have it any other way.
The best part about this convenience was that it was convenient. After Carolanne he'd sworn off serious relationships because in the end, someone was always asking for more than he could give.
There had been more important things to focus on those days, like the slow, steady braking of his career and what he was going to do during his retirement.
He didn't need a woman in his life... merely a frak from time to time.
The end of the worlds had eliminated one of these bad habits from his life. With Ellen gone it was like he'd come clean, like he'd sobered up. And he was so busy trying to save humanity that frankly, he didn't have time for frakking even if he had a woman available.
And now Ellen was back and he knew what he had to do.
-
"Bill. It's so good to see you. Still such a shock, you know?"
Ellen walked into his quarters, giving the Marine at the door a sweet smile in passing. Bill had invited her to talk mere days after her arrival, tired of delaying the inevitable.
"Can I spin the wheel?"
"The... yeah." He left the doorway so she could close it and spin the hatch wheel. Of all things. He walked over to his desk and shuffled some papers, collecting his thoughts. She followed him and stood close to his back, so close he could feel the heat of her body.
"You wanted to talk?"
"I think we needed to talk." He dropped the pile of papers back on his desk and turned to her, leaning against the edge of his desk. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, tension temporarily relieved. "Things between us have been complicated in the past."
"Seemed pretty simple to me." She fiddled with the zipper on her pink jacket, keeping his gaze.
"All right, I'm going to lay it out for you here, Ellen. Right now, I've got a lot more important things to think about than sex."
She stepped closer and he felt a twinge of arousal at her body brushing up against him. "Bill," she said, putting her hand firmly on his chest, "you can't be on all the time."
He watched her expression change, well aware of that shift from kitten to vixen. He still found himself mesmerized by it. He was no dolt, but he was a man.
"Somebody has to be," he said quietly as she tilted her face to him, her mouth dangerously close to his.
"I think," she said, the breath of her words caressing his lips, "you need to stop thinking."
When she kissed him it was more slowly than he expected-a slowness he'd not experienced with her before. She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed into him. He relented to the nudge of her mouth and the tease of her tongue, his hands cupping the curves of her hips and bringing her closer, flush against his hardening cock. It felt good. Too good. Too wrong.
Lately all he did was curse his obligations.
"Okay." He pulled away from her kiss and ran his hand through his hair. She smiled, caressing his erection with her thigh, claiming her victory. "We can't do this, Ellen."
"Oh, we could," she murmured. "It'd be so easy. Unless you want me to put up a fight."
Another rub of her thigh made him gently push her away. She backed off with a predictably disapproving look.
"Aren't you the least bit thankful you were given another chance with Saul?"
"Of course I am." She crossed her arms. She always got defensive when it came to Saul and Bill knew it was a quick way to take her down.
"And you want to waste that chance on me?" He shifted against the desk, trying to make his cock less visible.
"There's no reason why it can't be the same."
"There is every reason why it can't be the same. Nothing's the same now. Nothing."
She tucked her hair behind her ear, letting her fingers linger on her neck. "What if I told you he's okay with it?"
He chuckled at that. "You'd be lying."
"Then what made it okay before?"
They'd never talked about what made it okay or not okay before; it just was. He had no answers for her, nor was he interested in searching for them. He was making this a part of their past.
"Maybe it was a mistake."
"Oh, that word." She shook her head. "That's a really good word. Easy to use. Wipes the slate clean, right?"
It was no surprise that his erection immediately dwindled at the tone of her voice, reminiscent of his ex-wife. It was better off that way anyway. "Nothing is going to happen between us now. The last thing I need to do is jeopardize this Fleet's unity by frakking my XO's wife." He paused, then went for the kill. "Now I need him more than I need you."
Rarely did he see her feelings hurt. The moment passed in seconds. "There'll come a day, Bill. There always does. But I'm not going to fight with you. I can easily get frakked somewhere else."
"Try your husband."
"Good, is he?"
Bill's eyes narrowed and he nodded toward the hatch. "I'm done. Let yourself out."
"Fine," she said, still lingering.
"You can spin the wheel."
"Bitch," she whispered, practically snarling.
She turned and left.
He thought it went rather well, considering.
-
Laura usually refused to second guess her leadership abilities. She'd learned that nobody was going to have faith in her unless her faith in herself was steadfast. Constantly proving this had been tiring with Richard, and it was proving to be exhausting with Adama.
But these visions she was having-the confusing wanderings of her mind, the terrifying hallucinations-maybe it was the chamalla. Maybe the cancer had traveled to her brain. Maybe stress was finally cracking her. It was, privately, debilitating and frightening.
Every time they appeared, it shook her faith in herself. For the first time, she was afraid that her ability to lead was going to be called into question and she wouldn't be able to defend it. If Adama found out about this he'd surely do everything in his power to have her replaced.
That couldn't happen. She would not let him do it. She may be hallucinating but still, she was the only rational head leading the Fleet.
She wouldn't give up her power to him.
One night she dreamed of a glistening lake, glimmering with the bodies of swirling eels, swarming around her, curling around her limbs until they pulled her into the deep. The feeling of drowning was painful, uncontrollable. She woke up with a start, covered in sweat, which was nothing particularly unusual except for the fact that she'd never died in a dream before.
That night, she decided to form the Quorum, if for nothing else, as a safety net if she kept gradually descending into this madness.
-
In a very short period of time, a lot of intriguing things had happened, and Ellen was able to have a spectator seat for quite the revolution.
You'd think that with only forty thousand or so humans left in existence, everybody could figure out a way to get along a little better. But it was one of many human flaws she'd noticed over time.
If only there were a way to change it.
That Bill threw Laura in the brig was a fascinating turn of events. That Bill got shot was heartbreaking. That these events led to her husband taking over control of the Fleet in the interim was just a combination of coincidence and luck.
She couldn't call it that to Saul. She felt bad calling it 'luck' that Bill got shot. She didn't want him to die. Gods, no, he really did have a piece of her heart for everything they'd been through. And done to each other.
His momentary absence during his recovery merely gave Saul an opportunity to seize the day and show what a true leader he could be. And she would be at his side, of course. Without new shoes, but looking as fine as could be expected.
Saul had been understandably torn up about Bill's injury and came back from sickbay on orders from Cottle not to return to the public eye until he got his shit together.
Saul had wept in her arms and she'd held him, then given him a glass of ambrosia, then given him a blow job after he drank it. A really top-notch blow job. He seemed better after that.
She helped his cock back into his pants, zipping his zipper and then sliding into his lap. Saul put his arm around her, hugging her close with a satisfied growl.
"You feelin' better?"
He rested his head against her shoulder. "In a way, I guess."
She kissed the top of his head, then played with his ear. "I think if that Cylon hadn't shot him, Bill and the President would be shacking up soon."
"Wow." He looked up at her. "That was outta left field. I haveta say."
Maybe it was. But if there were one person who would know what's going on between Bill and anyone else, it would be Saul. Roslin seemed like a likely candidate as any at this point. She decided to press on.
"I'm just interested in the workings of people," she said. "You know, their relationships. What makes them happy, what doesn't."
"So you think... Roslin would make Bill happy? That's bullshit. He threw her in the frakkin' hole."
She sighed, putting her chin on top of his head. "Oh, Saul. It's obvious he's completely intimidated by her. And Bill loves intimidating women."
"This ship isn't a damned soap opera, you know."
Oh, if only he knew. He was so precious sometimes. She slid off of his lap, a bounce in her step. "Do you think they had sex in the brig?"
"Are you serious." His voice turned low, like when he's getting angry.
"Well, people do that, don't they?"
"Bill did not frak Roslin in the brig!"
Ellen threw her hands up in the air, her adrenaline pumping from pushing his buttons in just the right way. This was a game they played; at least, a game she played. "They keep that place video monitored, don't they? Shouldn't you check?"
He leaned back and grabbed his glass, coaxing the last drop out of the bottom with a shake. "If you're gonna frak someone in the brig you'd turn the surveillance off first."
She bit her lip, smiling. "This all makes me want to go down to the brig with you, baby."
"You can go, but you're goin' by yourself."
It was an excellent turn of events... exactly what she wanted him to say.
"Fine," Ellen said. "Maybe Roslin'll frak me down there like she frakked Bill."
There would be a lot of hate involved, but Ellen couldn't tell herself it wouldn't be fun.
"You shouldn't talk about the man like that. He's on his deathbed. Lords hope it doesn't come to that."
She bit back another sarcastic response when she saw how deeply troubled the idea was making her husband. She walked over to him and cupped his chin, looking into his eyes. "I know. All right? He's going to be fine. He's William Adama and he'll die when he wants to die."
"Stubborn old frak." Saul kissed her and she let her lips linger before she pulled away and grabbed her sweater from the table, shrugging it on.
"Where you going?"
She rolled her eyes. "Down to the brig, Saul."
He grunted, pushing himself up and padding toward the alcohol cart. "Don't get into any trouble."
She smiled, heading for the hatch. "Honey, you know me too well."
Author: icedteainthebag
Pairings: Bill Adama/Ellen Tigh/Laura Roslin, think square dancing + Saul
Rating: MA
Summary: Ellen's return to the Fleet brings complications to Bill and Laura's lives.
Word Count: 2,908
Notes: Written for the bsg_epics ship swap exchange in order to fulfill wishflsinfl's request of Bill/Laura/Ellen, not PWP, in canon. So basically, write the impossible. Know that going in.
Links to: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
-
Ellen knew Bill Adama was an honest man. He was a loyal friend, like a rescued dog. A companion for life.
It's why he brought her back to Saul when Ellen was sure she was one of the last people Bill wanted to see pop into his life again.
Bill was the best kind of friend to have, except for the brief moments when he wasn't.
She used to think about it a lot, her mind whirring around the situation they'd fallen into on Caprica. Sometimes after Bill frakked her, in those quiet moments before she rolled over to leave, Ellen pondered why there were such opposing sides to this complicated man. Bill and Saul had been friends for as long as she could remember. They would do anything for each other and the paths of their lives seemed irrevocably intertwined. They'd climbed the proverbial ladder in the Fleet together and functioned so seamlessly that they almost seemed like the same man.
Maybe that is how she justified it-how she convinced herself it was okay to be having an affair with Bill, to lie to Saul about an outing.
It's not like it happened all the time. The fraks, they came and went, once a week, maybe a week off here or there. She never spent more than a few hours at his place. They never talked about it outside those walls. Maybe Bill thought it better that she was seeing him than some stranger or someone Saul didn't trust.
She didn't consider herself promiscuous. She couldn't explain why she kept this on, besides maybe she wanted a part of Saul's other life. Just to taste it, to feel it, to be a part of it, as warped as that might seem.
She wanted a piece of the great Bill Adama.
She didn't think Saul knew. She was so very good at tidying up loose ends, at concocting alibis and playing her part as a dutiful wife. Because she loved him-she truly did-and there was nothing she wanted more than the rest of her life with him. This was just an itch she needed to scratch. And most of the time Saul and Bill were on the ship together so it wasn't even an issue.
There were plenty of justifications.
But now, with all three of them on Galactica, things would become more complicated. Saul and Bill would be together all the time, on the job all the time. She had Saul available whenever she wanted, not thousands of miles away. She didn't need someone to fill in the gaps.
Technically, she didn't need someone.
Even so, when they retired to Saul's quarters upon her arrival and she took Saul inside of her and heard him moan, a terribly satisfying sound a man makes when he's found something he loves that he thought he'd lost, a small part of her wondered when she would be able to slip away to Adama's quarters.
Just to tell him all the details, if he had an ear to listen.
-
Bill's habit was slipping into old habits, usually the bad ones. He couldn't shake them. They stuck to him like burrs in his coat, pricking him at the most inopportune moments.
Ellen was one of those; alcohol was another. Combining them both was always a recipe for madness. In the past, that was all they did. They'd get drunk and things would progress and nobody stopped them. All honor and vows of loyalty were left at the door.
He didn't do guilt and rarely battled regret, always making an excuse for their slip-ups after they happened but never swearing off them.
Fate was a weak excuse, especially given that he didn't believe in it. But maybe these things were meant to happen-these moments when he and Ellen ended up alone, when they ended up kissing and stripping each other and frakking. Always frantic, usually rougher than he intended. Maybe it was a way of keeping her from straying any further than she already was. It was a warped sense of justification that led him to believe that his best friend's wife cheating with him was a better kind of cheating than that done with complete strangers. And him being with her was certainly better than a random bar hookup... she reminded him of that enough.
He had a plethora of convenient excuses that he applied, like a bandage, whenever the reality of their affair rubbed him raw.
And what was at the crux of the entire situation is that it was obvious to anyone who knew Ellen and Saul that they belonged together. Somehow, despite their disagreements and toxic behavior around each other, there was something about them that worked. Bill had intervened in more than a few fights between them and they were usually both too drunk to remember it the next day. But he never suggested to either of them that they leave the other-that wasn't his place. He guessed he was just there as some kind of support.
He would talk and drink it out with Saul, and talk and frak it out with his wife.
Sometimes he wondered if Saul knew. It was hard to believe that he wouldn't care; Saul was usually a territorial son of a bitch. Maybe he trusted that Bill wasn't going to sweep Ellen off her feet. There was no way that would ever happen-she'd always go home to Saul. Bill wouldn't have it any other way.
The best part about this convenience was that it was convenient. After Carolanne he'd sworn off serious relationships because in the end, someone was always asking for more than he could give.
There had been more important things to focus on those days, like the slow, steady braking of his career and what he was going to do during his retirement.
He didn't need a woman in his life... merely a frak from time to time.
The end of the worlds had eliminated one of these bad habits from his life. With Ellen gone it was like he'd come clean, like he'd sobered up. And he was so busy trying to save humanity that frankly, he didn't have time for frakking even if he had a woman available.
And now Ellen was back and he knew what he had to do.
-
"Bill. It's so good to see you. Still such a shock, you know?"
Ellen walked into his quarters, giving the Marine at the door a sweet smile in passing. Bill had invited her to talk mere days after her arrival, tired of delaying the inevitable.
"Can I spin the wheel?"
"The... yeah." He left the doorway so she could close it and spin the hatch wheel. Of all things. He walked over to his desk and shuffled some papers, collecting his thoughts. She followed him and stood close to his back, so close he could feel the heat of her body.
"You wanted to talk?"
"I think we needed to talk." He dropped the pile of papers back on his desk and turned to her, leaning against the edge of his desk. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, tension temporarily relieved. "Things between us have been complicated in the past."
"Seemed pretty simple to me." She fiddled with the zipper on her pink jacket, keeping his gaze.
"All right, I'm going to lay it out for you here, Ellen. Right now, I've got a lot more important things to think about than sex."
She stepped closer and he felt a twinge of arousal at her body brushing up against him. "Bill," she said, putting her hand firmly on his chest, "you can't be on all the time."
He watched her expression change, well aware of that shift from kitten to vixen. He still found himself mesmerized by it. He was no dolt, but he was a man.
"Somebody has to be," he said quietly as she tilted her face to him, her mouth dangerously close to his.
"I think," she said, the breath of her words caressing his lips, "you need to stop thinking."
When she kissed him it was more slowly than he expected-a slowness he'd not experienced with her before. She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed into him. He relented to the nudge of her mouth and the tease of her tongue, his hands cupping the curves of her hips and bringing her closer, flush against his hardening cock. It felt good. Too good. Too wrong.
Lately all he did was curse his obligations.
"Okay." He pulled away from her kiss and ran his hand through his hair. She smiled, caressing his erection with her thigh, claiming her victory. "We can't do this, Ellen."
"Oh, we could," she murmured. "It'd be so easy. Unless you want me to put up a fight."
Another rub of her thigh made him gently push her away. She backed off with a predictably disapproving look.
"Aren't you the least bit thankful you were given another chance with Saul?"
"Of course I am." She crossed her arms. She always got defensive when it came to Saul and Bill knew it was a quick way to take her down.
"And you want to waste that chance on me?" He shifted against the desk, trying to make his cock less visible.
"There's no reason why it can't be the same."
"There is every reason why it can't be the same. Nothing's the same now. Nothing."
She tucked her hair behind her ear, letting her fingers linger on her neck. "What if I told you he's okay with it?"
He chuckled at that. "You'd be lying."
"Then what made it okay before?"
They'd never talked about what made it okay or not okay before; it just was. He had no answers for her, nor was he interested in searching for them. He was making this a part of their past.
"Maybe it was a mistake."
"Oh, that word." She shook her head. "That's a really good word. Easy to use. Wipes the slate clean, right?"
It was no surprise that his erection immediately dwindled at the tone of her voice, reminiscent of his ex-wife. It was better off that way anyway. "Nothing is going to happen between us now. The last thing I need to do is jeopardize this Fleet's unity by frakking my XO's wife." He paused, then went for the kill. "Now I need him more than I need you."
Rarely did he see her feelings hurt. The moment passed in seconds. "There'll come a day, Bill. There always does. But I'm not going to fight with you. I can easily get frakked somewhere else."
"Try your husband."
"Good, is he?"
Bill's eyes narrowed and he nodded toward the hatch. "I'm done. Let yourself out."
"Fine," she said, still lingering.
"You can spin the wheel."
"Bitch," she whispered, practically snarling.
She turned and left.
He thought it went rather well, considering.
-
Laura usually refused to second guess her leadership abilities. She'd learned that nobody was going to have faith in her unless her faith in herself was steadfast. Constantly proving this had been tiring with Richard, and it was proving to be exhausting with Adama.
But these visions she was having-the confusing wanderings of her mind, the terrifying hallucinations-maybe it was the chamalla. Maybe the cancer had traveled to her brain. Maybe stress was finally cracking her. It was, privately, debilitating and frightening.
Every time they appeared, it shook her faith in herself. For the first time, she was afraid that her ability to lead was going to be called into question and she wouldn't be able to defend it. If Adama found out about this he'd surely do everything in his power to have her replaced.
That couldn't happen. She would not let him do it. She may be hallucinating but still, she was the only rational head leading the Fleet.
She wouldn't give up her power to him.
One night she dreamed of a glistening lake, glimmering with the bodies of swirling eels, swarming around her, curling around her limbs until they pulled her into the deep. The feeling of drowning was painful, uncontrollable. She woke up with a start, covered in sweat, which was nothing particularly unusual except for the fact that she'd never died in a dream before.
That night, she decided to form the Quorum, if for nothing else, as a safety net if she kept gradually descending into this madness.
-
In a very short period of time, a lot of intriguing things had happened, and Ellen was able to have a spectator seat for quite the revolution.
You'd think that with only forty thousand or so humans left in existence, everybody could figure out a way to get along a little better. But it was one of many human flaws she'd noticed over time.
If only there were a way to change it.
That Bill threw Laura in the brig was a fascinating turn of events. That Bill got shot was heartbreaking. That these events led to her husband taking over control of the Fleet in the interim was just a combination of coincidence and luck.
She couldn't call it that to Saul. She felt bad calling it 'luck' that Bill got shot. She didn't want him to die. Gods, no, he really did have a piece of her heart for everything they'd been through. And done to each other.
His momentary absence during his recovery merely gave Saul an opportunity to seize the day and show what a true leader he could be. And she would be at his side, of course. Without new shoes, but looking as fine as could be expected.
Saul had been understandably torn up about Bill's injury and came back from sickbay on orders from Cottle not to return to the public eye until he got his shit together.
Saul had wept in her arms and she'd held him, then given him a glass of ambrosia, then given him a blow job after he drank it. A really top-notch blow job. He seemed better after that.
She helped his cock back into his pants, zipping his zipper and then sliding into his lap. Saul put his arm around her, hugging her close with a satisfied growl.
"You feelin' better?"
He rested his head against her shoulder. "In a way, I guess."
She kissed the top of his head, then played with his ear. "I think if that Cylon hadn't shot him, Bill and the President would be shacking up soon."
"Wow." He looked up at her. "That was outta left field. I haveta say."
Maybe it was. But if there were one person who would know what's going on between Bill and anyone else, it would be Saul. Roslin seemed like a likely candidate as any at this point. She decided to press on.
"I'm just interested in the workings of people," she said. "You know, their relationships. What makes them happy, what doesn't."
"So you think... Roslin would make Bill happy? That's bullshit. He threw her in the frakkin' hole."
She sighed, putting her chin on top of his head. "Oh, Saul. It's obvious he's completely intimidated by her. And Bill loves intimidating women."
"This ship isn't a damned soap opera, you know."
Oh, if only he knew. He was so precious sometimes. She slid off of his lap, a bounce in her step. "Do you think they had sex in the brig?"
"Are you serious." His voice turned low, like when he's getting angry.
"Well, people do that, don't they?"
"Bill did not frak Roslin in the brig!"
Ellen threw her hands up in the air, her adrenaline pumping from pushing his buttons in just the right way. This was a game they played; at least, a game she played. "They keep that place video monitored, don't they? Shouldn't you check?"
He leaned back and grabbed his glass, coaxing the last drop out of the bottom with a shake. "If you're gonna frak someone in the brig you'd turn the surveillance off first."
She bit her lip, smiling. "This all makes me want to go down to the brig with you, baby."
"You can go, but you're goin' by yourself."
It was an excellent turn of events... exactly what she wanted him to say.
"Fine," Ellen said. "Maybe Roslin'll frak me down there like she frakked Bill."
There would be a lot of hate involved, but Ellen couldn't tell herself it wouldn't be fun.
"You shouldn't talk about the man like that. He's on his deathbed. Lords hope it doesn't come to that."
She bit back another sarcastic response when she saw how deeply troubled the idea was making her husband. She walked over to him and cupped his chin, looking into his eyes. "I know. All right? He's going to be fine. He's William Adama and he'll die when he wants to die."
"Stubborn old frak." Saul kissed her and she let her lips linger before she pulled away and grabbed her sweater from the table, shrugging it on.
"Where you going?"
She rolled her eyes. "Down to the brig, Saul."
He grunted, pushing himself up and padding toward the alcohol cart. "Don't get into any trouble."
She smiled, heading for the hatch. "Honey, you know me too well."