Tea On A Spaceship
Lee doesn't expect to see so many ships. It makes his chest to go tight to see them, even though Zarek smirks and Elosha looks delighted and the prisoners cheer.
So many of them believe in her, and she doesn't even seem to believe it herself.
She's retreated to a small, dark room with a chair and the bare blankets they've been using for beds. Lee is surprised to note that Laura is sitting there, eyes closed and hands on her temples, rubbing gently.
"Is it so much to ask that we stay aware of the situation and not turn this into us versus them?" Laura asks him, not opening his eyes. "Your father is not a bad man. Damn stubborn, though. He doesn't listen. Then again, neither does my staff."
"I thought you made a great deal of sense," Lee says, closing the door behind him. "Are you all right?"
"No, I'm not all right," Laura says, opening her eyes and blinking rapidly. "Sometimes I have a hard time understanding why I signed up for this presidency if no one will actually stand with me when I lead or even trust what I say."
Lee pauses. "I trust you," he says. "I don't always agree with you, but I trust you are trying to work in the best interests of the Colonial fleet. That's why I came with you. That's why I stayed with you."
"That's sweet of you," she says acidly. "How far does that trust go? If I asked you to lead the limited defensive capabilities of these ships?"
"Of course," Lee says.
"What if I told you that Zarek had betrayed us?" she asks, something dark crossing her face. "That I was afraid he was about to do something precipitous?"
"I'd do what you needed me to do, Madam President," Lee answers, feeling something prickle up the back of his neck and not entirely uncomfortably.
"What if what I asked you to do had absolutely nothing to do with my role as president?" Laura asks, looking up at him without a change of expression.
"Give me an example," Lee says, breathing a little faster, but managing to keep his face as calm as hers. Of course she's not saying what he knows she's saying.
And she doesn't.
"I could use a cup of tea," Laura says, her hands folded in her lap. "I take two sugars and a splash of milk. Would you do that for me?"
This has gotten unbelievably strange, and Lee can feel himself start to sweat. "I don't believe there's any tea on the Astral Queen," he says. "I could ask, if you want."
"I would like that very much," Laura says. "I would like a cup of black tea with two lumps of sugar served with the tongs my mother gave me in my grandmother's china."
"If I could get them for you, I would," Lee says.
A half-smile touches her lips. "Why?" Laura asks. "It's a selfish request."
"I said I would do what you needed me to do," Lee says. "I honor my word."
She nods, and they have not broken eye contact since she began her line of hypothetical questions and Lee is almost afraid of what Laura will say next. Almost afraid, but not really. Even with this strange, half-despairing, half-furious mood that is crackling the air like static after a summer thunderstorm.
"Whatever I need," she says. "Anything?"
"I trust you," Lee answers.
And she breathes out, hard. "My left foot," Laura says. "I twisted my ankle walking out of that meeting and I can't get the right spot. Would you do that for me?"
Lee doesn't bother with a response. He kneels and takes her left foot in hand and takes her shoe and then her sock off.
She hasn't lied; it looks like there's a little swelling around her ankle. Not a lot.
"You should ice this," he says.
"It's not serious," she replies. "I just need a little help."
Lee very carefully starts to prod and massage her foot, wondering why in the name of all the gods, Laura is so difficult when it comes to medical advice. And why he is doing what she says even when he knows they should ice it.
He presses his thumbs into a spot on her arch, avoiding the swollen parts of her ankle, and Laura's breath hisses out, pain and relief in the same noise. He very carefully continues to work his thumbs into the arch of her foot, aware that he's on his knees and instead of that being uncomfortable in its implications, there is something mutually intimate and absolutely comfortable in the moment.
Like it was always meant to happen this way.
He lets go of her foot and puts his hand on her leg, sliding the soft crepe of her trousers up before meeting Laura's eyes.
Her pupils are very, very wide. And her hand reaches out to find his face, and when she just lets him rest his head against her hand, it's too much to bear.
"I left him alone," he says, kissing her palm. "What kind of son does that?"
"Lee," she says, pulling his gaze upward and smiling at him. She has a beautiful smile. "Do you trust me?"
He nods. Yes, he trusts her. How can't he trust her when she's letting him see her in a way she won't let anyone else see her?
"He loves you. Your father will always love you," she says, stroking his face. "But we need you, Lee. I need you."
The words break over him like a blessing. Not that his father loves him, but that Laura needs him, and more than that, she trusts him enough to let him see it.
He places a kiss on the side of her knee, almost chastely, putting his hands on her calf and caressing the skin.
Parts unresisting knees so that they fall open and wait for his touch, for his cheek to brush against her thigh and ghost over the material.
She takes one of his hands in both of hers, laying it against her throat.
Her pulse is racing, and it only makes Lee want her more, because she believes in him enough to tell him one of her closely-guarded secrets: she wants him. Badly.
He puts his hands on her hips, meeting her eyes again forthrightly.
"I trust you," he says. "Tell me what you want me to do."
She breathes so lightly that Lee almost misses the whimper.
"You know what I want," Laura replies.
"I want to hear you say it," Lee says, surprised at how much he does. They're both half-sick with desire, and he wants very much to strip her naked and see who she is then. But it's part of the moment. She has to ask him -- no, she has to tell him.
"Oh, Lee," she says, her voice trembling with that need that has him delirious. "Come here."
He can barely be closer but he moves closer until there's no space between them and he finds himself pressed against her while her ribcage rises and falls. Looking at yet another Laura Roslin, one who is practically incandescent with want and bruising his mouth with a kiss.
"I am not your mother," she growls in harsh and dark tones that have him half-hard, because she knows. She knows how badly he wants her to be both. To make it all right that he's abandoned his father and now has his hand between her thighs, rubbing against the seam.
"I don't want you to be," he replies hoarsely, pulling at the button and zipper at her hip. She moans as he ruthlessly brings his lips against her knickers, her whole body pushing forward. The word has been between them for so long. Mother. And the image of Lee Adama, quintessential mama's boy, looking for an apron to cling to.
But that's not it at all. She is not his mother. She's released him from that nightmare into something far more dangerous. Laura trusts him.
He traces a finger where his mouth has been, warm and wet and increasingly sticky. Her breathing shudders into a half-octave cry. She will comfort him, she will give him pieces of herself that she doesn't trust anyone else will.
He breathes against her thigh and she jumps, her fingernails digging into her skin. Lee looks up at her, and when he smiles, he knows it's one of hers.
"Trust me," he says. "Just...let go."
She does, hot and liquid and alive suddenly. The tip of his tongue flicks against her thigh as his fingers slip beneath the last thin bit of cloth between them and slip and slide into willing flesh.
He is drunk on the shock of power and pleasure this gives him and even knowing that he shouldn't because she'll have to mend them later, he tears her knickers and loves that she arches up with approval.
Lets go. Gives Lee everything he could imagine wanting.
Falls against him afterward, sweat-damp and tousled, and kisses him hard, her tongue tangling with his.
"Hi," Laura says after pulling away, with a toothy, sweet grin. Lee is now aware that his lover is not a sweet woman, but he likes when she smiles anyway.
"Hello," Lee answers. "Feel better?"
"Mmm-hmm," she says, resting her head on his chest. "You?"
"Definitely," he says, kissing the top of her head. "You still want tea? Two sugars, splash of milk?"
"That sounds heavenly," Laura says. "They won't have any."
"I'll find you some anyway," Lee replies. "I told you I would."
She laughs, rolling onto her back and putting her hand on her head. "You're too good for me," Laura says. "I'm serious."
"So am I," Lee says, flipping to his side. "I didn't think so many of them would come with us."
"I did," Laura answers quietly, pulling back inside herself. "Do you think I did the right thing?"
"Yes," Lee says. "We did the right thing."
She's silent for a long time.
"I'm glad you think that," Laura says. "We should get dressed."
He pulls her hand into his. "We did the right thing," Lee repeats.
"I know," Laura finally says. "Come on. Let's find Earth."