Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Laura/Caprica Six
Spoilers: Mild, general spoilers for late S3. It could
take place at any time during the series, almost, but in my head it takes place in late S3 and, therefore, there may be some spoilers.
Word count: About 1100.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they're the property of SciFi, NBC, GE or whatever parent company owns their copyrights. I use them with Ron Moore's implied permission (that man could teach J.K. Rowling a thing or two about fanfiction), for non-profit enjoyment.
Summary: Hm. I guess it's a character study of Laura Roslin through the eyes of Caprica Six.
A/N: Thanks to MJ, my lovely beta. This is my first BSG fic, but inspiration struck me at random and I can't say no to inspiration.
Making love to Laura Roslin isn't making love at all, despite Caprica's hopes. She has tried to will herself to fall in love with the striking woman, but all she can muster is desire. Desire: warm and dark and aching. Gaius mocks her for her desire.
“She reminds you of Three,” he says, murmuring the words against her chest, following the trail that Laura leaves with her tongue.
Caprica sighs and pretends that the only reason for it is the feel of Laura's teeth on her clit. But Gaius is right and wrong at the same time, and even when she closes her eyes she feels him watching them.
“When we frak, where do you go?”
Laura's hand is still and cool on her thigh. Caprica closes her eyes. “You wouldn't understand.”
She feels Laura's smirk in her words. “Try me.”
Caprica takes a deep breath. “We live apart from you. Differently. It's as though we can see another world on top of the one we walk through with our bodies. Projection. It's how we travel. When you... frak me,” she pauses, corrects herself, and continues, “when we frak... I'm with -”
Gaius leans down to whisper in her ear, his long hair tickling at her neck. “Don't tell her. She'd never understand. She'd be jealous. This would end, and then where would you be? The Cylon prisoner, former secret lover of the President. In other words: alone.”
“I know,” Caprica hisses quietly. Not quietly enough. Laura quirks her eyebrows. “I know what you're thinking, Laura. But it's because you don't understand.”
“So you've said.”
“Why do you bring me here?”
“You know why.”
“You could get that from anyone. A human.”
Silence falls. Caprica rises from the bed and starts to put her prisoner's jumpsuit back on.
It started simply enough. The President wished to interrogate the prisoner. Despite the Admiral's very strongly worded suggestions, she wanted to do so on Colonial One.
“We monitor her on Galactica, Admiral. On Colonial One she'll think she's not being watched.”
Admiral Adama's face remained impassive. “That's what I'm afraid of.”
On the first night – it was day, but Caprica liked to think of it as a tryst borne out of the darkness – it was Laura who made the first move.
It is always Laura who makes the first move.
They were curled up on a small bench, looking at the stars. Their shoes were off. Caprica wondered at the intimacy that the President showed her. Yes, they had been meeting – the official stance was that the President was questioning her – for several months now. Still. Wasn't she a prisoner? Wasn't she a Cylon?
Laura watched the stars while Caprica watched Laura. When Laura spoke she didn't turn her head, but addressed Caprica as if she were at the other end of a radio transmission. She spoke of visions, destinies, gods, and of Earth. She spoke of dreams.
“I never thought of Caprica as a woman's name.” Laura finally turned her head to gaze at the other woman. “But here you are. A woman.”
“You dreamt of me?” Caprica shifted on the uncomfortable bench, trying to squirm out of Laura's and Gaius' gazes.
Laura shrugged, but said nothing.
“Oh please,” Gaius rolled his eyes. “You can't possibly believe this, can you?”
Caprica's eyes flickered towards him, angry.
“Fine. You're on your own for this next part,” he ran a hand suggestively down Laura's arm. “I'm sure you'll remember how it's done.”
“Wait,” Caprica called out, but he was gone.
Laura gave her a confused look, but it faded. “I dreamt of my name entwined with Caprica. And I thought it meant something else entirely.”
A shiver ran down Caprica's spine. When Laura touched her face, she didn't pull away or shudder. Her jumpsuit was off before Laura even kissed her. It wasn't soft, and Caprica felt teeth on her lips as Laura's tongue pressed for entrance into her mouth. She obeyed.
Caprica was naked on the uncomfortable bench, and Laura still wore everything but her shoes. She didn't understand why it was like this. With Three and Gaius it had been egalitarian, all naked at the same time, the focus on... well, Gaius.
This was different. This was Laura's lips and teeth and tongue leaving a wet trail down and across her body. This was Laura sucking, nibbling, and pinching at her nipples until Caprica's hips arched and she begged for more. This was Laura. Laura, running two strong fingers up her thigh, pressing into the moist flesh between her legs, pressing into Caprica herself.
When Caprica climaxed, gasping, Laura's fingers were joined by her tongue. Caprica moaned and closed her eyes, and was laying on a soft bed with silk sheets. She opened her eyes and looked down, expecting to see Gaius. Instead, saw the subdued amber of Laura's hair.
“How?” Her question, barely more than a gasp, broke the projection and she was back again on the bench. Laura stopped and looked up at her, questioning but not concerned.
Caprica pulled the president up, and quickly undressed her. Her hair was dark and wet against her face. Caprica pressed their foreheads together, before mimicking Laura's movements and running her tongue down Laura's body. She tasted like the northern oceans of Geminon. Lower still, amidst damp red curls, Laura was warmer than anything Caprica had ever felt before.
Laura climaxed silently, and the shuttle came for Caprica within the hour.
“I've made a decision.” Laura looks at her now. A year of frakking, sometimes hurried and sometimes slow like Aerelon honey, and Caprica had earned eye contact. “It had to be done.”
Caprica nods and sighs, like she's expected to, and avoids Gaius' eyes by looking to Laura's. “Why? I want to help you.”
Laura smiles a half smile and cants her head. “I know you believe that. But it's not enough.” She doesn't bother insulting either of them by pretending the sex would change things.
It never does.
It ends the way it started: simply. The push of a button. Laura doesn't do it herself, of course. She watches, flanked on either side by Marines, the Admiral behind her. Over Laura's shoulder, Gaius winks at Caprica.
The doors open and there is a rush of air, and then nothing. Silence. Caprica is weightless and unafraid. Space is cold, like Laura, but she knows the hands of God will be warm.