~BSG: Laura's Dance
Title: Laura's Dance
Author: kastari
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Summary: It was then that all three men heard it-music. Their faces stoic, two pairs of questioning eyes met his. It was obnoxiously loud.
Rating: T
Genre: Drama/Romance
Word Count: 2,196
Disclaimer: I’m just playing in Universal’s sandbox.
Laura’s Dance Mix:
Ain’t Nothin’ Wrong With That
Gotta Give It Up
No Ordinary Love
Laura's Dance
With a quiet determination, Bill Adama made his way through the corridors of Galactica. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It had been one hell of a day and he was looking forward to the privacy of his quarters.
Laura’s security detail was posted outside his door. He raised an eyebrow. If the truth be told, he found her presence in his quarters comfortable and welcome, maybe even a bit on the dangerous side. It was a thrill never knowing when the President of the Twelve Colonies would simply be there without any advance warning. Having given her carte blanche to his private space, he actually found himself secretly looking forward to her impromptu visits. Somehow the most mundane tasks transformed into subtle pleasantries when shared with her. Ever since New Caprica, he had noticed their relationship was changing.
Her marines snapped to attention as he approached. The reality: The president in his quarters was a regular occurrence. The ridiculous: Military protocol. He rolled his eyes and waved them at ease. He knew she needed protection, but right now she appeared to be safe inside his quarters. The two young men relaxed. It was then that all three men heard it-music. Their faces stoic, two pairs of eyes met his. It was obnoxiously loud.
Red head or brunette (It don't matter)
Breakdance, slamdance (It don't matter)
Do the jerk until it hurts
I'm tellin' you
Ain't nothin' wrong with that (I'm tellin' you)
Ain't nothin' wrong with that
He met the confused looks of the two young men and grunted. What in the hell was she doing in there? Usually reading, working on reports, resting, finding solitude within his sanctuary, frakking him, but music? Slowly he spun the hatch open.
Candles strategically placed throughout the living room flickered. Shadows danced and so did she. Bill froze, mesmerized by the woman who had no idea he had entered her sanctuary.
She hadn’t heard him come in-the music was insanely loud, how could she? He could feel it vibrating in his own chest. He hugged the wall, watching from the shadows. Things were rattling in his quarters. The urn on the coffee table jumped. Was that painting on the wall skewed? The lamp shades were jiggling. He could hear the glasses and bottles of alcohol on the service cart pinging. The Fu dog book ends shook like wet hounds do and his Tang Dynasty war horse sculpture trotted in place on its shelf.
She wore a black pinstripe skirt and a pink button-down blouse. He liked her in pink. The color accentuated her red hair. Having lost the blazer earlier, it had haphazardly landed on the leather sofa. That was certainly out of character. Usually his clothes were in a heap, landing wherever he tossed them. Hers were always folded carefully in a pile or draped neatly over a chair or the sofa in an attempt to avoid wrinkles. Not tonight.
His breath caught in his throat and he felt flushed. She jumped up, spun around, twirled and gyrated her way around the living room, her ass shaking in rhythm to the music. Her ass was amazing; it was as simple as that and he liked to look at it. He found her tight skirts incredibly sexy.
This song was in his music library? Broadening his musical horizons seemed to be a priority for Kara and Lee. Both constantly dogged him, trying to teach the Old Man new tricks. It had to be a mix of theirs. He laughed softly and continued to watch. Her energy level was electric.
Backyard or boulevard (It don't matter)
Red, yellow, black or white (It don't matter)
We all gettin' down tonight
I'm tellin' you
Ain't nothin' wrong with that (I'm tellin' you)
Ain't nothin' wrong with that.
He noticed the chair in the center of the room. She danced around it, with it and he found her wild, carefree abandon sexually thrilling. The sight of her-he felt like a rook pulling negative g’s in his viper for the first time. His breath caught in his throat; he was flushed. She was all over the room and then some. They had danced together before, on Colonial Day and on New Caprica, but he never imagined she could move like this.
I don't know but I've been told
When the music gets down in your soul
It makes you want to loose control
And there
Ain't nothin' wrong with that
It don't matter
(Let it go)
He decided it wouldn’t take much for him to lose control.
Suddenly the song ended and she moved to the sound system, breathless. A glass of wine sat on the coffee table. She picked it up, took a drink and once again, began to move with the music. The new song was softer and playfully sensual. She danced with the glass of wine, still completely unaware that he watched. He felt like a voyeur and liked it.
I used to go out to parties and stand around
'Cause I was too nervous to really get down
But my body yearned to be free
I got up on the floor, boy
so somebody could choose me.
Her shirttails, pulled from the waistband of her skirt, fluttered as she moved. He noticed that her blouse was unbuttoned a bit further than usual, exposing a provocative expanse of breast. His eyes plunged with the risqué neckline in wanton appreciation. A lustful grunt escaping him, he unbuttoned his uniform jacket. She was barefoot. He expected that much. Where her shoes had landed for the evening, who knew? She was always losing her shoes.
No more standin' there beside the walls
I have got myself together, baby
I'm havin' a ball
Long as you're groovin'
There's always a chance
Somebody watchin' might wanna make romance
She set her wine glass back down on the coffee table, her body moving to the beat of the music, her hips swaying rhythmically back and forth. She definitely had a nice ass. Bill found it extremely sensual to be watching her in the dim light.
She put her hands behind her head and lifted her hair up exposing her neck then let it fall, the auburn curls cascading down her back. She ran her hands up and down her body, slowly spinning around and around, throwing her head back, laughing. Laura Roslin was dancing for herself and it was the most incredibly erotic thing William Adama had ever seen. A shiver crawled down his spine.
Move your body, ooo baby,
And dance all night
Do that groovin’
Feel all right
He noticed the wine bottle on the service cart was almost empty. His eyes darted from her to the chair in the middle of the room. He hadn’t realized that a simple chair could be so salacious-until now. He continued to watch as she danced with and around the piece of furniture.
You're movin your body easy with no doubt
Know what you thinkin' baby
You want to turn me out
Think I'm gonna let you do it babe
Keep on dancin'
You got to get it
Got to give it up
Her impossibly long legs, her breasts peeking out of her blouse, the graceful movement of her arms, what she was doing with her hands… Was she wearing underwear? Suddenly he could feel a lump beginning to rise and it wasn’t in his throat. Did she know he was watching her? With a twirl…
“Bill!”
She did now.
Her eyes wide with shock, she was speechless. That didn’t happen often.
“How long have you been standing there?!”
When it did, it never lasted long.
“I see you’ve started the party without me.” He nodded toward the service cart and the bottle of his wine that she had uncorked.
“How long?” It was her ‘presidential’ tone.
He loved it when she demanded things of him. “Do the jerk until it hurts; ain’t nothin’ wrong with that,” he confessed with a sheepish grin. He could no longer contain his laughter.
Her eyes grew even wider. “Oh my gods!” She covered her mouth with her hand, blushing. “The great Admiral Adama catches the President of the Twelve Colonies shaking her tail feathers all over his domain.” Her giggles were infectious and his laughter mixed easily with hers.
“Sweet asses of Kobol, they’re some mighty fine tail feathers,” he said softly as he gently brushed a wayward curl from her face. It was an extremely intimate gesture. They stood dangerously close to one another. She was stunningly beautiful and he could feel the heat rising between them.
“I’m breathless and sweaty.” The way she said it was titillating.
His eyes held hers. “I like you breathless and sweaty.” His voice was rough with emotion. “I didn’t know you could dance like that.”
“There are a lot of things about me you don’t know,” she whispered, teasing him.
“I like what you’ve done with the place." His eyes traveled the room.
“So, you’d like an audience with the president?” Her voice was low and seductive. She touched his arm fleetingly, breaching the slight space between them. He jumped, a tumultuous rush of adrenaline surging through him. It was a brazen move, her crossing the line. He was breathing heavily. Her eyes never leaving his, she slowly backed away from him, luring him to the middle of the room. “Sit,” she commanded, pointing to the chair she noticed he noticed. Her voice was sultry and maddeningly soft.
His heart skipped a beat. Was she going to dance for him? Losing the uniform jacket, he threw it onto the couch. It landed in a heap next to her blazer. He cleared his throat and sat down, bewitched. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.
She fiddled with the sound system, then moved to the service cart and poured him a whiskey. “A drink, Admiral?” She handed him the glass, her hazel eyes suddenly darkening to deep emerald.
I gave you all the love I got
I gave you more than I could give
I gave you love
I gave you all that I have inside
And you took my love
You took my love
Without a word he took the drink from her and knocked it back, the alcohol searing a path to his stomach. It was a good burn. Then, unexpectedly, her mouth captured his and she kissed him with an incredible hunger, deep and sensual. It took his breath away. He dropped the shot glass. He knew she tasted the whiskey on his lips; he tasted the wine on hers. He reached for her but she twisted away, her hips swaying to the slow, rhythmic beat of the music, taunting him. There were simply no words to describe the way she moved. His blue eyes smoldered with desire.
“I may know very little about military protocol,” she said as she finished unbuttoning her blouse, “but I do know the rules for lap dancing.”
Her fingers, those buttons… He could see the delicate lace of her bra as she revealed more skin to him. His breath hitched. “And you would know about them how?” His eyes followed her erotic kaleidoscope of movement as she twirled about him, her body undulating to the sensual music, the pink silk of her now open blouse flittering around. She was so close…
Didn't I tell you
What I believe
Somebody say that
A love like that won't last
Didn't I give you
All that I've got to give baby
She leaned in, closer still, and brushed a finger over his lips, silencing him, the movement of her body daring. “I never dance and tell.”
His heart was racing.
She spun around behind him, out of his line of sight. A moan escaped him as he felt her fingers twine through his hair, her nails raking his scalp. He shivered. She pulled his head back, exposing his neck, kissing it softly and then nipping it sharply as she gyrated around him. He groaned. Suddenly his hand shot out, catching her wrist. He pulled her toward him. She slapped his hand down and twisted away from him. Now standing before him, her eyes locked with his. Her hands behind her head, she lifted up her auburn curls, exposing her neck to him. Her tangled hair was incredibly sexy. Then letting her hair fall, she ran her hands up and down her body. He wanted to run his hands up and down her body. Slowly she advanced until she was hovering over his lap, so close…
Keep trying for you
Keep crying for you
Keep flying for you
Keep flying and I'm falling
and I'm falling
“What are the rules?” he asked, his voice thready. He could barely breathe.
Again she captured his mouth with hers, sucking in his ragged breath, swirling her tongue with his.
“Laura,” he rasped. “Rules, please…” He was completely on the edge.
This is no ordinary love
No ordinary love
This is no ordinary love
No ordinary love
“Only one,” she whispered. He could feel her breath in his ear, on his neck. “No touching.”
~finis~
Author: kastari
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Summary: It was then that all three men heard it-music. Their faces stoic, two pairs of questioning eyes met his. It was obnoxiously loud.
Rating: T
Genre: Drama/Romance
Word Count: 2,196
Disclaimer: I’m just playing in Universal’s sandbox.
Laura’s Dance Mix:
Ain’t Nothin’ Wrong With That
Gotta Give It Up
No Ordinary Love
Laura's Dance
With a quiet determination, Bill Adama made his way through the corridors of Galactica. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It had been one hell of a day and he was looking forward to the privacy of his quarters.
Laura’s security detail was posted outside his door. He raised an eyebrow. If the truth be told, he found her presence in his quarters comfortable and welcome, maybe even a bit on the dangerous side. It was a thrill never knowing when the President of the Twelve Colonies would simply be there without any advance warning. Having given her carte blanche to his private space, he actually found himself secretly looking forward to her impromptu visits. Somehow the most mundane tasks transformed into subtle pleasantries when shared with her. Ever since New Caprica, he had noticed their relationship was changing.
Her marines snapped to attention as he approached. The reality: The president in his quarters was a regular occurrence. The ridiculous: Military protocol. He rolled his eyes and waved them at ease. He knew she needed protection, but right now she appeared to be safe inside his quarters. The two young men relaxed. It was then that all three men heard it-music. Their faces stoic, two pairs of eyes met his. It was obnoxiously loud.
Red head or brunette (It don't matter)
Breakdance, slamdance (It don't matter)
Do the jerk until it hurts
I'm tellin' you
Ain't nothin' wrong with that (I'm tellin' you)
Ain't nothin' wrong with that
He met the confused looks of the two young men and grunted. What in the hell was she doing in there? Usually reading, working on reports, resting, finding solitude within his sanctuary, frakking him, but music? Slowly he spun the hatch open.
Candles strategically placed throughout the living room flickered. Shadows danced and so did she. Bill froze, mesmerized by the woman who had no idea he had entered her sanctuary.
She hadn’t heard him come in-the music was insanely loud, how could she? He could feel it vibrating in his own chest. He hugged the wall, watching from the shadows. Things were rattling in his quarters. The urn on the coffee table jumped. Was that painting on the wall skewed? The lamp shades were jiggling. He could hear the glasses and bottles of alcohol on the service cart pinging. The Fu dog book ends shook like wet hounds do and his Tang Dynasty war horse sculpture trotted in place on its shelf.
She wore a black pinstripe skirt and a pink button-down blouse. He liked her in pink. The color accentuated her red hair. Having lost the blazer earlier, it had haphazardly landed on the leather sofa. That was certainly out of character. Usually his clothes were in a heap, landing wherever he tossed them. Hers were always folded carefully in a pile or draped neatly over a chair or the sofa in an attempt to avoid wrinkles. Not tonight.
His breath caught in his throat and he felt flushed. She jumped up, spun around, twirled and gyrated her way around the living room, her ass shaking in rhythm to the music. Her ass was amazing; it was as simple as that and he liked to look at it. He found her tight skirts incredibly sexy.
This song was in his music library? Broadening his musical horizons seemed to be a priority for Kara and Lee. Both constantly dogged him, trying to teach the Old Man new tricks. It had to be a mix of theirs. He laughed softly and continued to watch. Her energy level was electric.
Backyard or boulevard (It don't matter)
Red, yellow, black or white (It don't matter)
We all gettin' down tonight
I'm tellin' you
Ain't nothin' wrong with that (I'm tellin' you)
Ain't nothin' wrong with that.
He noticed the chair in the center of the room. She danced around it, with it and he found her wild, carefree abandon sexually thrilling. The sight of her-he felt like a rook pulling negative g’s in his viper for the first time. His breath caught in his throat; he was flushed. She was all over the room and then some. They had danced together before, on Colonial Day and on New Caprica, but he never imagined she could move like this.
I don't know but I've been told
When the music gets down in your soul
It makes you want to loose control
And there
Ain't nothin' wrong with that
It don't matter
(Let it go)
He decided it wouldn’t take much for him to lose control.
Suddenly the song ended and she moved to the sound system, breathless. A glass of wine sat on the coffee table. She picked it up, took a drink and once again, began to move with the music. The new song was softer and playfully sensual. She danced with the glass of wine, still completely unaware that he watched. He felt like a voyeur and liked it.
I used to go out to parties and stand around
'Cause I was too nervous to really get down
But my body yearned to be free
I got up on the floor, boy
so somebody could choose me.
Her shirttails, pulled from the waistband of her skirt, fluttered as she moved. He noticed that her blouse was unbuttoned a bit further than usual, exposing a provocative expanse of breast. His eyes plunged with the risqué neckline in wanton appreciation. A lustful grunt escaping him, he unbuttoned his uniform jacket. She was barefoot. He expected that much. Where her shoes had landed for the evening, who knew? She was always losing her shoes.
No more standin' there beside the walls
I have got myself together, baby
I'm havin' a ball
Long as you're groovin'
There's always a chance
Somebody watchin' might wanna make romance
She set her wine glass back down on the coffee table, her body moving to the beat of the music, her hips swaying rhythmically back and forth. She definitely had a nice ass. Bill found it extremely sensual to be watching her in the dim light.
She put her hands behind her head and lifted her hair up exposing her neck then let it fall, the auburn curls cascading down her back. She ran her hands up and down her body, slowly spinning around and around, throwing her head back, laughing. Laura Roslin was dancing for herself and it was the most incredibly erotic thing William Adama had ever seen. A shiver crawled down his spine.
Move your body, ooo baby,
And dance all night
Do that groovin’
Feel all right
He noticed the wine bottle on the service cart was almost empty. His eyes darted from her to the chair in the middle of the room. He hadn’t realized that a simple chair could be so salacious-until now. He continued to watch as she danced with and around the piece of furniture.
You're movin your body easy with no doubt
Know what you thinkin' baby
You want to turn me out
Think I'm gonna let you do it babe
Keep on dancin'
You got to get it
Got to give it up
Her impossibly long legs, her breasts peeking out of her blouse, the graceful movement of her arms, what she was doing with her hands… Was she wearing underwear? Suddenly he could feel a lump beginning to rise and it wasn’t in his throat. Did she know he was watching her? With a twirl…
“Bill!”
She did now.
Her eyes wide with shock, she was speechless. That didn’t happen often.
“How long have you been standing there?!”
When it did, it never lasted long.
“I see you’ve started the party without me.” He nodded toward the service cart and the bottle of his wine that she had uncorked.
“How long?” It was her ‘presidential’ tone.
He loved it when she demanded things of him. “Do the jerk until it hurts; ain’t nothin’ wrong with that,” he confessed with a sheepish grin. He could no longer contain his laughter.
Her eyes grew even wider. “Oh my gods!” She covered her mouth with her hand, blushing. “The great Admiral Adama catches the President of the Twelve Colonies shaking her tail feathers all over his domain.” Her giggles were infectious and his laughter mixed easily with hers.
“Sweet asses of Kobol, they’re some mighty fine tail feathers,” he said softly as he gently brushed a wayward curl from her face. It was an extremely intimate gesture. They stood dangerously close to one another. She was stunningly beautiful and he could feel the heat rising between them.
“I’m breathless and sweaty.” The way she said it was titillating.
His eyes held hers. “I like you breathless and sweaty.” His voice was rough with emotion. “I didn’t know you could dance like that.”
“There are a lot of things about me you don’t know,” she whispered, teasing him.
“I like what you’ve done with the place." His eyes traveled the room.
“So, you’d like an audience with the president?” Her voice was low and seductive. She touched his arm fleetingly, breaching the slight space between them. He jumped, a tumultuous rush of adrenaline surging through him. It was a brazen move, her crossing the line. He was breathing heavily. Her eyes never leaving his, she slowly backed away from him, luring him to the middle of the room. “Sit,” she commanded, pointing to the chair she noticed he noticed. Her voice was sultry and maddeningly soft.
His heart skipped a beat. Was she going to dance for him? Losing the uniform jacket, he threw it onto the couch. It landed in a heap next to her blazer. He cleared his throat and sat down, bewitched. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.
She fiddled with the sound system, then moved to the service cart and poured him a whiskey. “A drink, Admiral?” She handed him the glass, her hazel eyes suddenly darkening to deep emerald.
I gave you all the love I got
I gave you more than I could give
I gave you love
I gave you all that I have inside
And you took my love
You took my love
Without a word he took the drink from her and knocked it back, the alcohol searing a path to his stomach. It was a good burn. Then, unexpectedly, her mouth captured his and she kissed him with an incredible hunger, deep and sensual. It took his breath away. He dropped the shot glass. He knew she tasted the whiskey on his lips; he tasted the wine on hers. He reached for her but she twisted away, her hips swaying to the slow, rhythmic beat of the music, taunting him. There were simply no words to describe the way she moved. His blue eyes smoldered with desire.
“I may know very little about military protocol,” she said as she finished unbuttoning her blouse, “but I do know the rules for lap dancing.”
Her fingers, those buttons… He could see the delicate lace of her bra as she revealed more skin to him. His breath hitched. “And you would know about them how?” His eyes followed her erotic kaleidoscope of movement as she twirled about him, her body undulating to the sensual music, the pink silk of her now open blouse flittering around. She was so close…
Didn't I tell you
What I believe
Somebody say that
A love like that won't last
Didn't I give you
All that I've got to give baby
She leaned in, closer still, and brushed a finger over his lips, silencing him, the movement of her body daring. “I never dance and tell.”
His heart was racing.
She spun around behind him, out of his line of sight. A moan escaped him as he felt her fingers twine through his hair, her nails raking his scalp. He shivered. She pulled his head back, exposing his neck, kissing it softly and then nipping it sharply as she gyrated around him. He groaned. Suddenly his hand shot out, catching her wrist. He pulled her toward him. She slapped his hand down and twisted away from him. Now standing before him, her eyes locked with his. Her hands behind her head, she lifted up her auburn curls, exposing her neck to him. Her tangled hair was incredibly sexy. Then letting her hair fall, she ran her hands up and down her body. He wanted to run his hands up and down her body. Slowly she advanced until she was hovering over his lap, so close…
Keep trying for you
Keep crying for you
Keep flying for you
Keep flying and I'm falling
and I'm falling
“What are the rules?” he asked, his voice thready. He could barely breathe.
Again she captured his mouth with hers, sucking in his ragged breath, swirling her tongue with his.
“Laura,” he rasped. “Rules, please…” He was completely on the edge.
This is no ordinary love
No ordinary love
This is no ordinary love
No ordinary love
“Only one,” she whispered. He could feel her breath in his ear, on his neck. “No touching.”
~finis~