Now
He does not kiss her on Galactica. At first, she thinks he does not mean to kiss her at all, but Laura finds herself pleasantly surprised when she debarks the Raptor and Lee gets out with her.
"Going to make sure I'm home and dry, Captain?" she asks, sounding ridiculously old. Must she always speak in cliches?
"We've come such a long way together, it seems wrong not to," Lee says, offering her his arm. She takes it, the way she didn't when they left Galactica either time. There's no room to show weakness on Galactica. Ever. "So...what now?"
"What do you mean, what now?" Laura asks, trying to sound calm. Her heart's beating faster than it has in a decade, almost as fast as it did with the Cylon raider shooting at her and Billy.
"I mean what now," Lee says as they walk away from the Raptor, to corridors that are usually deserted. "Everything goes back to the way it was, Madame President?"
"Isn't that the best-case scenario?" Laura replies, turning to face him. This is the closest she's dared to stand to him since they were in the brig together. "We have our path to Earth. The fleet is united. That's what we wanted, isn't it?"
He looks at her with those blue, blue eyes of his, honest and faithful and reproaching, and it sends a thrill down her spine, and warmth. "You know that's not for a second what I mean," Lee says.
Her eyes widen, but she does not let herself smile. "I see," she murmurs. "Are you going to kiss me?"
"That depends," Lee said, a hint of bitterness seeping into his voice. "Are you going to to kiss me back?"
Now she does smile, feeling the warmth his last look gave her start to spread over more of her. "Try me," Laura says, feeling remarkably less tired than she did on the Raptor.
Lee's tongue darts out and wets his lips and another sharp electric shock of wanting shivers over Laura's whole body. When he leans in, she grabs him and kisses back, falling into the kiss until he has to put an arm around her to keep them standing.
She can't stop kissing him, and it's not just because she's wanted him, though oh, she's imagined something like this happening a hundred times. No, this is more than simply wanting Lee, Lee who is sucking on a particularly ticklish part of Laura's earlobe while she gasps; this is wanting to feel human. The hollow drumbeat of that applause, Adama's stern, forced posture (if she's my prophet, he seemed to be telling them, she's yours, too), the very air in the room had left her exhausted and longing for a place to hide.
She's so tired. Bone-weary, a weariness that's so deep it's embedded in her soul.
It's always having to be strong for her people, the ones who don't know anything about her as they swallow her piece by piece until she can't hear anything except the applause that sounds like thunder, like the storm that she can almost hear in her nightmares just over the horizon, and Lee's tongue is in her mouth now, and she's sucking it in deeper, wantonly, hooking a leg around his desperately.
He makes her feel like she's still real. Real and definitely human. Hot all over, aching and whimpering for more, grinding against his very hard cock while her skin gets sweat-damp.
His hand finds the side of her leg and slides her skirt up her thigh.
"Oh, gods," she manages to say, eyelids heavy and mouth swollen. Lee gives her a little smile, and his mouth is almost as wrecked as hers, his hand big and hot where it rests, teasing her.
"We shouldn't be doing this?" he asks, giving her a very good imitation of one of her own looks.
"We definitely shouldn't be doing this...here," Laura says, kissing his throat as he strokes her back with his other hand. She kisses a ticklish spot and casts glittering, desiring eyes up at him as her hands pull him closer to her.
"Did I just see my president give me a lustful look?" Lee teases.
"I look at you lustfully all the time, but you never seem to notice," Laura says faux-mournfully as he laughs and leans her back until her arms shoot out and grip his shoulders.
"I've noticed," he says, pulling them back up as she pulls them toward cover. "You give very piercing looks, Madame President. I've had to stay where I was more than once because of how you look."
"Is that right?" Laura asks throatily, in a voice that is practically not hers. "What a wasted opportunity."
They are doing a half-feverish waltz toward cover. Toward some corner of this back corridor Colonial One where they are not totally exposed. They are not, after all, completely out of the woods yet.
"Waste not, want not," Lee murmurs, undoing her jacket, the first three buttons of her blouse, exposing her collarbones and shoulders. "If we hadn't wasted all those looks, I wouldn't want you as much as I do right now."
"Do you want me so badly, then?" Laura asks, her breath catching as she pulls at the edge of his shirt. Knowing it can't be as badly as she wants him, wants to feel him inside of her.
He answers her wisely, attacking her throat with his mouth as one of his hands cups her breast and strokes carefully. After a minute of this, she demanding tugs upward until he sheds his shirts and removes her jacket for good measure.
"You and the right thing to say," Laura says, laughing, as they twist-turn and feverishly touch each other, him pushing her hair out of the way, her putting a palm on his back and marveling at how warm he is. How present. "It's the kind of thing that makes resistance absolutely futile."
He reveals and attacks her shoulder with aplomb as one of his cunning, pioneering hands pushes her skirt up again and decides to explore.
Laura's hips push forward of their own accord.
"What are you trying to resist?" Lee growls, his teeth very lightly grazing her shoulder.
Oh, this man. This man is going to be the death of her and Laura gets another jolt of white-hot (and wet-hot) need that goes straight down. No respect at all for her age or position. Thank gods. Laura throws her head back and moans as his knuckle grazes the thin material that's between them.
She must look a sight. Flushed and sweaty, head tilted back, skirt shoved to the very tops of her thighs, rubbing herself against Lee's hand.
But Laura really needs not to wreck this skirt. Otherwise, all she has is the suit she wore the day of the attacks, and she prefers not to wear that one.
"Take it off," Laura says, pulling herself close to Lee's ear and flicking it with the tip of her tongue.
"Are you sure?" he asks.
"It's my only good one. Take it off," she orders. They both chuckle a little, and Lee takes his hand away, just long enough to undo hooks and zippers and kick aside the blasted skirt.
Doesn't give him a chance to catch his breath before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him again, pushing her tongue into his mouth as his hands move up and down her spine. Too high, even though she's against that hard bulge in his trousers again and it feels amazing. Laura could do this for days, just feeling him everywhere, until she could remember the contours of his chest, his arms, his thighs just from memory.
Laura puts her hand on him, and her eyes close at the encouraging push of Lee's hips, how his cock practically leaps at her touch.
"Gah," says Lee.
"Now you know how I feel," Laura says ruthlessly. "I can't resist because I've already surrendered."
"I don't think you know the meaning of the word," Lee says, palming the tops of her thighs, working his way back toward her ruined underwear. "You were absolutely fearless tonight. I couldn't stop smiling."
"I saw that," Laura says, trying to brace herself. Her knees are starting to shiver. "I've converted you at last, I see."
"It's a religion I could learn to enjoy," Lee murmurs, hooking his thumb into the elastic on the very inner curve of her thigh and then under. "Very, very much."
She's supposed to say something. Laura knows that she shouldn't just let him have the last word, but Lee's hand is there, right there, and she forgets what to say.
"Oh, frak me," Laura gasps, fingernails digging into his skin and the wall she's braced herself against.
"I want to," Lee says, almost inside of her, his other arm resting next to her head, keeping them from colliding too violently. "More than anything."
"Now," she whines, each breathing sobbing in and out of her lungs. "Now, please now."
One of his fingers presses against her clit and Laura moans louder, arches her back.
"You're so. I can't even describe," he says hotly into her ear.
"Make love to me," she says, swallowing hard. Her thighs are straining, and her heartbeat is too, too fast. "I can't...please."
Grabs him by the hips, even though it means he has to move that wonderful, blessed hand of his despite how much she likes it right where it is. Undoes the button and zipper on his pants.
"Oh," Laura says, her eyes meeting Lee's, and he's blushing now. "Captain Apollo, do you usually not wear underwear?"
"I..." Lee says, before laughing. She grins at him and pulls his very hard cock out of his pants fully. "Try to be prepared."
"I think I like this kind of religious devotion," Laura says deviously.
"I bet you do," Lee says, again forgetting that she is of an age to be his mother, a holy woman besides, possibly because Laura has begun to move her hand up and down his full length. "Your worshipers will have to be trained in the art of pleasing you."
"Why would I need anyone else?" Laura says breathlessly. The hungry, horny look he's giving her reminds her that she has ruined her underwear, and that she's still so hot that she can barely breathe. "I have you."
"Yes," Lee agrees in a low voice, taking his hand from her hip, his fingers half-coated in her and him and sweat, and drawing one over her lips, and Laura sucks it in needily. "You do."
It's not just her, the heartbeat-timed, fever-hot thoughts in her head cheer. He needs this, too. She needs him so badly, needs him to be hers because he can make her feel alive and tied to something real and warm and human, but Lee loves to be needed for himself. Chosen. Valued.
And oh, her need makes him harder. Pushier. He pulls them down to their knees as both of her hands rise again to hold on. Eases down the last scrap of cotton and elastic. Laura stopped wearing sexy underwear years ago when life got too busy for romance, and who wears lace and silk on a long shuttle flight? It itches. It gets stuck unpleasant places.
Maybe she'll take a cue from him and just give underthings a pass. Seems sensible. And the idea of not wearing them so that she can be ready for the next time they do this just sends another spike of tension upward, right through her hips.
Gods forgive her, she can't even feel guilty about this. It's not like he doesn't want her. It's not like they're not both panting and moaning and grasping at each other, trying to get to a position where he can frak her senseless right now.
Lee pushes up and Laura sinks down, and he's finally inside of her, and her eyes meet his again, direct and burning with passion. She knows she must look possessed, and her damn hair keeps falling in her face. She has too much hair, and she rises and falls against him, feeling him in her, real and hard and hot.
Lee's thrusts meet Laura's, hard and almost painful, and it's been too long. Why did she give this up? How could she give up the feel of a man? The way Lee's stubble is scratching her throat makes her wild, makes her need to kiss him, has to pull on his lower lip with her teeth because there's just so much of him and she was so close to being lost in her own private wilderness.
Starts riding him harder, squeezing, and it hurts. She's going to pay for this tomorrow, and Billy is going to realize and if Cottle figures things out, it will be even worse, and Laura does not care, does not care, does not care. Can't care. She needs this too badly to worry.
"Laura," Lee moans, jerking her out of rhythm. He's got one hand on her back, supporting her some, and his eyes are halfway closed. And that mouth of his is open. "Say something to me. Stay with me."
"Say my name again," she says, her voice high and breathless from pleasure and fatigue. "I like how it sounds when you say it."
"Laura," Lee says, hoarse, finding that spot between them and starting to rub. "My Laura."
"Your Laura," she agrees, leaning against him. He smells so good. "Oh, Lee. Oh, gods, Lee, I'm so hot."
"Yes...oh gods, yes," he says, his thumb working between them, sending pulses up and up and up until Laura doesn't understand why she hasn't come yet. She needs to come badly, she's trembling with it, and it's almost enough to make her sob. "Are you close?"
"I'm...I'm..." she gasps. "I want to."
He nods, pushes back her hair, and he moves faster, thrusts harder. "Let go," Lee says. "Come for me."
Him and the right thing to say. Laura shudders and everything explodes.
The world goes white and Laura realizes she's screaming, so loud that she presses her face into him to muffle the sound. And she's practically electric, can't stop moving, writhing like a snake as the feeling overtakes her. He holds her through the earthquake, murmuring things she can't resolve into words. She can feel each of his fingertips through her blouse, pressed to different parts of her spine.
Can feel him easing her to the ground and thrusting as she wraps her legs around him, her knees already grateful for the respite.
"Talk to me," he says again, looking into her eyes. His are all pupil now, and he's definitely close, and Laura cannot believe how incredibly hot he makes her, just by wanting her.
"I think I'm broken," Laura says, smiling dazedly. "And you're not allowed to go home. Ever."
"My father..." Lee says, thrusting harder, "Might not like that."
"I'll give him Billy and two other staffers to be named later," Laura says weakly. "Don't stop, Lee. Don't stop now. You feel so good."
"You're so good," Lee says, moving faster, his hips pumping against her raggedly. "I need to..."
"I know," she soothes, putting one hand on his arm, which is rock-hard from holding himself above her so he doesn't crush her. Such a good man. She doesn't deserve him. "I want you to. For me."
He calls her name as he comes, hard, and Laura almost follows him over the edge, because the way her name sounds in his mouth is never going to do anything but turn her on, but instead she threads her hand into his hair and eases him down to a spot that doesn't crush her.
One of them has to be practical now that it's far, far too late. But he feels so good, so easy to pet and stroke with an idle hand. Laura could die happily if she were able to take him to her stateroom and just let them sleep together. Because this is good, this is better than good, but it's going to get painful in another minute or two.
"You with me?" she asks, propping herself up on on an elbow.
"Kinda," he answers, muffled by the floor and the angle he's laying. "Think you killed me. Good death, too."
"If you'd said my name again, I'd be dead with you," she says, feeling his back rise and fall with each breath.
"You should look dead more often," Lee says, turning to his side. "You look...good. The absolute opposite of dead."
"If you say the word glowing, I will do something bad to you," Laura says, trying to frown.
"Now that you mention it," Lee says. "You are glowing...ow! Aren't prophets supposed to eschew violence?"
"I'm only a prophet sometimes," Laura replies, leaning over and kissing him. The kiss goes on for quite a while, but finally she has to pull away, even though she knows the look she gives him is longing. "But it seems to be a twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week sometimes."
Lee smiles at her, happy and somewhat wryly. "Someone's going to be looking for us soon, huh?" he asks.
"I'll be surprised if they aren't already looking," Laura says with a sigh, finding and retrieving her skirt as Lee pulls his clothes back on. "Can we make time stop?"
"We already did once today," Lee points out, getting to his feet.
"True," Laura says. "But I don't want you to leave. In fact, if they put a cot in this corridor, I could just stay here forever."
And oh, he is so hers. His eyes light up a little with absolute pleasure, and Laura remembers, with a tiny flare of jealousy, his earlier bitterness about his failed kiss with Kara Thrace, the easy companionship there. She is his Laura, but...it's not as simple as that.
It was never going to be simple, she reminds herself. Age and cancer and his father would have seen to that even whether Kara existed or not.
"We will make time," Lee promises, putting an arm around her. "I will make time. For you."
"I know," she says, trying to keep the longing from her voice. "It's all right. I'm just being selfish."
"You're entitled to selfish," Lee says, rubbing her back. "Get some rest. I'm about to turn into a pumpkin, I'm so tired, so I can't imagine..."
"I'll be fine," Laura says, sighing. "Good night, Captain."
Cliches again. For now she is indeed home and dry, but that's not nearly the comfort it should be. Now, she would trade both for more time with him.
Laura sighs. Leans against the wall as he says good-night, kisses her good-bye and dawdles away, unsure if she's going to follow.
For a while, she's not sure, either.