Good Girls Don’t (Until They Do)
Author: Jennifer-Oksana and Kathryne
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Disclaimer: Moore’s the man with the master plan.
Summary: The two most notable women in the fleet get drunk and screw.
“So even the powerful and dignified need a break from harsh reality now and then,” Kara says, not knowing why she said that. Because it sounds mean, but isn’t meant to be mean.
Laura tilts her head and tries to focus on the other woman. “Dignified.” She rolls the bottle between her hands, takes a swig and tries not to grimace as the cheap booze burns. “Maybe that’s the reality I need a break from.”
“Yeah, get half a bottle of rotgut in you and you’re a regular Ellen frakkin’ Tigh,” Kara laughs, taking the bottle and swigging hard. “You couldn’t, I don’t know, you’re always poised. Even when you’re too drunk to spell it.”
Laura toes her shoes off and swings her feet up, propping them next to Kara without bothering to ask and wiggling her toes.
“Just because I don’t walk around trying to frak half the fleet,” she snaps, “doesn’t mean that I’m actually that boring.” She grabs the bottle back huffily. “Unlike Ellen, I have standards.”
“Standards, huh?” Kara asks, thinking for some reason that if Laura weren’t the president, she’d be all over tickling her feet to see what she’d do. “And yet you decide to get drunk with a frak-up like me. Those are crazy standards.”
“Yes, you are clearly a worthless and horrible person,” Laura replies dryly. “And did I mention, you’re really very hard to look at?”
Kara blinks, frozen for a moment. Is the president flirting with her? “Frak, you really are drunk, aren’t you?” Kara says, covering her nerves with brashness and trying not to let her gaze wander up past Laura’s knees.
Laura holds her fingers a tiny bit apart. “This much,” she says, a smile touching her lips slightly. Yes, it’s definitely flirting, and it’s compounded when Laura brushes some crumb or lint off her skirt, reminding Kara of legs. Shapely, shapely legs that are inches from Kara.
If Laura is drunk, Kara’s not sober either, and frak it, when has she ever backed down from anyone? She sets the bottle down and takes one of Laura’s feet in her hands, digging her thumbs into the instep and shaking her head in mock consternation. “If you’re gonna relax for a change,” she says, “you gotta do it all the way,” and runs one short fingernail up the bottom of Laura’s foot.
Laura jumps. Her eyes are wide and kind of glassy, but she’s paying attention to Kara with all of her scattered attention. “Harder,” she says. “They’re very sore and I don’t have anyone who’ll do this for me now.”
Kara smirks and obeys, curving her hands around Laura’s ankle. Laura’s other foot is pressing against her hip, warm even through layers of clothing. “What, people aren’t lining up for the honour of serving the president?” she asks, her tone deliberately provocative and her fingers creeping further up Laura’s leg.
“Sycophants, toadies, and men doing their best lion-tamer routine,” Laura replies, her head sinking onto her shoulder. Her voice is a low, weary growl, husky and as warm as her skin. “No doubt I could have a line, but I don’t really feel the urge to become someone’s pussycat.”
Kara lets Laura’s foot fall into her lap and transfers her attention to the other leg. “You’d rather be doing the taming,” she guesses, then stops. “Nah, that’s not your style either, is it. Too boring. That’s your problem, right?”
“My problem?” Laura asks with a naughty little smirk. “That’s one way to describe it.”
“And there’s another way?” Kara asks.
Laura looks at Kara helplessly for a long, long moment, and then begins to laugh harder, running a hand through her hair. “My problem,” she begins, “Is that there are so few worthwhile conquests, and no new worlds to conquer among men.”
Frak, Laura is sexy when she laughs, Kara thinks. Her hair’s going every which way and her face is flushed with colour and her toes are wiggling against Kara’s stomach. This isn’t going anywhere, this can’t possibly go anywhere, but Kara is a little bored herself. “Gods forbid we stop exploring,” she says, and leans over to bite down on Laura’s big toe.
Laura doesn’t laugh now; she breathes out hard, blinking over and over. “I see,” she says, eyes round.
It’s Kara’s turn to laugh. “See? Still poised,” she said, blowing on Laura’s now-damp big toe. “I see.”
“Do it again,” Laura says in hoarse whisper. “Harder.”
Kara does, taking her time, smoothing her fingers further up Laura’s leg. Her head is buzzing, and it’s not just the booze, it’s the excitement of something so forbidden as her mouth on Laura’s skin. Perfectly poised Laura, and Kara’s lips and tongue follow her fingers until she finds herself on her knees, staring up into Laura’s startled eyes. She takes a deep breath. “Oh wait,
“Oh wait,” she says flippantly, and stands up. “I forgot, you don’t like being worshipped.”
“Get back on your knees,” Laura says, and she’s all kinds of red and breathless. “I want…” and her voice seems to stick in her throat for once, that commanding, perfect voice, and Kara sinks to her knees, but instead, positions herself so that she’s eye to eye with Laura.
“You really want, huh?” Kara asked. “I was starting to think you were a frakking toaster, sir.”
Laura reaches out and grabs a fistful of Kara’s hair, drawing their faces together. “Frak you,” she breathes, and kisses Kara hard.
It’s sloppy and they’re drunk and they both taste like cheap booze, but Kara doesn’t care. She kisses back, slanting her mouth across Laura’s cheek to lap at her earlobe as she tugs at the hem of Laura’s skirt. “Gotta ask nicer than that,” she whispers.
Laura takes Kara by the chin, and offers Kara a finger to suck on, which Kara gladly does. A moment later, Laura’s other hand is smoothing Kara’s cheek. “I. want. you. to. frak. me,” Laura whispers. “And I’m not asking.”
The sting of Laura’s hand on Kara’s cheek makes Kara’s knees weak, and she practically leaps forward, biting into Laura’s swollen lower lip as her hand fumbles under the skirt, scratching at the warm flesh underneath.
Frak, frak, frak, Kara thinks, with the part of her brain that’s still working. She shouldn’t be this frakking turned on, shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be this close to coming from just the way Laura looks. She curls her fingers under Laura’s panties, pulling them off and digging her fingers roughly into her hips. They’ll both have bruises, she thinks, slipping one finger between Laura’s thighs.
Laura moans and shifts her legs apart, but the skirt gets in the way, and she groans in frustration. Kara smiles, pulling back from the kiss to watch Laura squirm, torn between need and annoyance.
“Up,” Kara says, and Laura does, and they get that skirt all the way around her waist, and now this has gone too far, but Laura’s not going to back down. Not even for a second, and now Laura’s got her head rubbing against Kara’s breasts.
“Now,” Laura says breathlessly, right after her teeth have grazed over Kara’s clothed nipple and turned it into pure ache. “If I have to ask again…”
Kara runs her fingers over the damp curls. Laura hisses some kind of approval.
The way Laura grinds down against Kara’s hand sends tremors up Kara’s spine, because Laura is hot and so frakking wet and her voice breaks on a moan as Kara slips two fingers into her. Laura digs her fingernails into the back of Kara’s neck and Kara presses forward, adding a third finger. “Frak yeah,” Kara whispers, “that’s your problem, everyone thinks you’re too nice for this.” Frak, without the booze taking the edge off her sanity, she’d think Laura was too nice for this. But the woman in her arms isn’t nice and isn’t simple and Kara wants very badly to make her come.
Laura doesn’t say anything; she just keeps moving, eyes half-closed as Kara keeps twisting and pumping her fingers inside of her, not even aware how hot her skin is until one of Laura’s fingers brushes across her skin, cold as ice.
Gods, Kara likes this, loves how easy it is to twang her thumb against Laura’s clit and feel Laura jump and mewl, her head moving to some bone-deep rhythm Kara can’t follow.
But she can always up the ante, and this time she leans forward and licks Laura’s cheek as Laura tightens around her, extremely close, hot and soaking Kara’s fingers.
“Yeah,” Kara whispers. “Gonna come now, yeah, you are,” and Laura tips her head back and cries out sharply before her grip on Kara’s shoulders loosens.
But Kara’s not done yet; she’s enjoying herself too much, and she lifts up and deposits Laura back in her chair. She parts Laura’s legs and grins, her teeth bright behind her swollen lips.
Laura’s eyes go even wider, but she lets her legs fall apart further, licking her lips and swallowing. “Show me how good you are,” she dares Kara, one of her knuckles rubbing over her own breast.
Kara leans forward and blows before starting to lap and lick, sending Laura’s hips jutting forward with bold, needy cries. A hand twines in Kara’s hair and pulls, sending a thrill of electricity to Kara’s clit.
Good, oh yeah, Kara can be good, with Laura’s heel digging into her back and urging her on. She can be very frakking good, if the way Laura is writhing against her means anything, and she’s glad. Because the only thing she wants right now is to have Laura’s fingers on her skin, touching her the way Laura is touching herself now, harsh and unforgiving. And if she’s not good, then it’s gonna be back to the showers to get herself off and no chance of getting back into Laura’s pants ever again.
Kara twists her head against the tug of Laura’s fingers in her hair and shivers.
She can’t think about it yet. Instead, Kara’s just got to be in the moment, tasting Laura, listening to Laura choke and gasp on the air as Kara’s tongue flickers and licks and laps.
Finally, her teeth graze Laura’s clit and Laura’s heels dig deep into Kara’s back as Laura whimpers, a low deep sound that penetrates all the way into Kara’s spine and wraps a tendril around her brain.
“Good,” Kara says, looking up and feeling sticky, sticky and needy and please gods, Laura’s got to frak her back, has to find her good enough to be touched.
And Laura reaches down with two fingers and traces the outline of Kara’s mouth before bringing her hand back to her mouth and tasting her fingertips.
Kara’s eyes are wide and slowly, very slowly, she slides back up Laura’s body.
“Take your clothes off,” Laura murmurs into Kara’s ear.
Laura’s voice prickles over Kara’s skin, stimulating already over-excited nerves. Kara fumbles for a moment at her tank tops, and she wants to move quickly, wants to rip her clothes off, but Laura is gazing at her with half-lidded eyes and Kara thinks she’s still being judged. So she slows herself, skins her shirts over her head smoothly, lets her pants slide down her legs before she steps out of them.
Laura watches, silently, and when Kara is down to her underwear she reaches out. Kara comes back into her arms, and she can’t contain a whimper when Laura slides cool fingertips up her back and under her bra. Kara raises her arms over her head and Laura pushes the bra up, up until it’s tangled over Kara’s hands, and then she stops and smiles at the picture in front of her.
“Maybe next time,” Laura says softly, in a way that suggests that there will BE a next time, and that makes Kara want to just jump on top of Laura and kiss her breathless, while Laura gets her fingers under the elastic of her underwear and touches.
Kara ditches the bra, and pushes herself into Laura’s arms. That’s who they all love, brash and pushy Captain Kara Thrace, right? The one who’s a maverick, with no special respect for authority at all.
Laura drags her fingernails down one of Kara’s arms and Kara shudders. “Slow down,” Laura says. “I’ll take care of you.”
Kara’s not sure she can do slow: she’s aching all over and every place Laura touches seems to become an erogenous zone Kara never knew she had. But Laura is in control here, and Kara gulps air and swallows and holds herself as still as she can. Because even though she’s never seen this woman in front of her with the hungry eyes and the devil’s smile, Kara is ready, oh so ready to trust her.
“Oh, very good girl,” Laura says, reinforcing the praise by finally running her hands over Kara’s bared breasts.
Kara melts a little more, and Laura leans forward to start molesting a spot on Kara’s shoulder as her fingers pinch and soothe Kara’s breasts until they’re aching and sending more sparks of electricity to the ongoing soaking mess in Kara’s panties.
“I want to be good,” Kara hears herself say, mortified because that’s the kind of thing she only wants to think at a moment like this, when Laura has a hand on her stomach that is slowly but surely drifting toward her underwear and their ruined crotch.
“Do you want me to help you?” Laura asks, suddenly dragging two fingers right over the soaked material. “I want to help you, Kara. You could be so good. The best.”
“Yes,” Kara whimpers, her hips jerking down against Laura’s hand. “Frak, yes.” She’s not sure what she’s agreeing to, but it doesn’t matter. Whatever Laura asks her to do, she’ll do, she’ll be so, so good as long as Laura keeps touching her.
And Laura does, keeps rubbing Kara through the wet cloth, but her touch is light and teasing and Kara groans and wraps her hand around Laura’s forearm. “Please,” she says brokenly, “please, I want you to help me, I want you to touch me.” She can’t quite believe what she’s saying, but she doesn’t care, because she’s so afraid of not being good enough, again.
Laura stops, and Kara’s whole body wants to scream in protest, but it’s only another temporary torture. Laura pulls the cloth off at last, settling Kara into her lap so that Kara can’t see Laura’s face but can feel the warm breath on the back of her neck, wet lips on her shoulder and arm.
“Like this?” Laura asks, slipping three fingers inside without any resistance because Kara’s soaking wet, her other arm around Kara’s waist.
“Just like that,” Kara answers.
“You’re so hot for me,” Laura says in a questioning voice, her tongue finding a spot she likes on Kara’s skin. Her fingers have hooked in and are searching, probing almost until they find one spot and then they, then they focus.
“On fire,” Kara says, panting, because she is, sweat and herself and Laura all over her skin, and she’s sticky and wet and probably staining Laura’s outfit, but she only sort of cares. “That’s so frakkin’ good.”
Laura’s thumb brushes slowly over Kara’s clit and Kara tightens, her whole body jerking. “Gods,” Laura says, “you feel so good,” and her voice is rougher and rawer than ever. She’s breathing as hard as Kara, but her fingers are slow and purposeful.
“Faster,” Kara says.
“Mmm, not yet,” Laura replies, but she does move faster, her fingers keeping time with each wrench of Kara’s hips, her mouth hot against Kara’s shoulder.
Kara lets her head drop back as she rides Laura’s hand harder, closer and closer to coming until she’s lost all rational thought. “Frak,” she gasps, “I gotta — I gotta –”
She can feel Laura smile against her skin. “Yes,” Laura says, twisting her fingers against that one spot just right and Kara is gone.
But she comes back, and she’s warm, and Laura is regarding her with a smile that borders on smug, her fingers resting against Kara’s hip.
“Good,” Laura says.
“The best,” Kara replies.
“Oh, not even close,” Laura murmurs, resting her head against Kara’s. “Someday, when you’re not drunk, I am going to do this properly. If you’re good.”
“If I’m good?” Kara asks.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re good,” Laura says slyly.