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SCAM: Battlestar Galactica miniseries
Disclaimer: Not mine. Rating: R/NC17. Sex. Lesbians.
Set: Er. Battlestar Galactica, new miniseries. Probably a month or so after the war began.
Notes: ...Have I mentioned before that I'm occasionally surprised at my capacity for femslash? Well, I am. And pronouns are a bitch. And I came up with Sam's call-sign when talking to Ryuu. "Analyssie: ohmigod. I have the perfect one. Jara may object in the morning. But Starbuck can mock her, and she can snark back. Thus leading to sex. 'Princess'"
Pairing: Lieutenant Kara 'Starbuck' Thrace/Lieutenant Sam 'Princess' Carter
Distracting
by ALC Punk!
"Give me that."
"What?" Sam's eyes were sparkling with innocence. Her hand held the cigar further away.
Kara took a moment to admire the aesthetic lines of Sam Carter's lithe body as it wriggled at her in grey fatigues, then snorted, "I can see right through you, Sam."
"Oooh." She bent close, "Can you tell what color underwear I've got on?"
"Red."
"Good guess."
Kara's hand slid behind Sam's back, fingers sliding under her waistband. "I saw you put them on this morning."
"Mmm." A soft gasp escaped the other pilot. "So you did."
Her other hand tangled into Sam's hair, and she dragged her forwards, pulling her lips close. "And I'm going to take them off you."
"I should hope so."
Breath fluttered against her lips, and then they were kissing, and Kara wondered if there was a time when she thought other people were good kissers. Sam was hard and fast and slow, and moaned so very, very easily when handled just right. And Kara knew, by now, just how to handle her right. Kara's hand slid between cloth and skin, blunt and broken nails scraping just lightly.
The other woman relaxed against her, free hand moving to slide behind her neck. Kara smirked slightly and reached out, wrapping her hand around the other wrist. Caressing the skin with her thumb, she prolonged the kiss until Sam moaned again.
Kara's hand closed around the cigar, and she slowly released the other woman's lips. Bringing the cigar up, she smirked. "Thank you."
"You bitch." Sam breathed, amusement sparking in her eyes.
"I got it, fair and square." Kara slid the butt into her mouth and bit down, lips twisting around it, still smirking.
"Maybe." The blonde and blue-eyed astrophysicist tilted her head to one side, her eyes darkening. "But I bet I can think of things to do that would make you forget it."
"Oh?"
"Starting," Sam's hand slid underneath her own shirt, pulling it up so the tanned and toned skin beneath showed in the light, "with me."
"Could work," acknowledged Kara, eyeing the skin with vague interest. "I think you might have to convince me, though."
Sam glanced at the open door and licked her lips. "Anyone could walk in, you know."
"Yup."
A light flush went across her cheeks and then disappeared. The shirt was pulled up more, revealing pert breasts encased in white cotton. "I suppose they can only throw me in the brig." One hand toyed with the right breast, rubbing over the slowly stiffening nipple.
"I'd come visit you," Kara offered.
"How," Sam's fingers tightened, pinching the nipple, and she let out a soft gasp, "kind of you." Her eyes stared into Kara's.
"Oh, I'm always kind."
"Yes." Sam's other hand joined the first, massaging and rubbing her breasts and the skin of her chest. The flush on her cheeks deepened.
"Still not that distracting."
"Mmm." Eyes half-lidded, Sam stroked down the planes of her stomach and unsnapped the top of her pants. "I'll see if I can change that." One hand slid under the waistband and delved between her legs.
Kara couldn't exactly see it, but she knew what those long, slim fingers were doing, and her own breath quickened slightly. "Not stripping?"
"You," Sam arched slightly, her hips rocking, "get to do that," her left hand went back to rubbing her breasts. "Later."
"Could be a plan. You know, I love knowing that I've got the hottest astrophysicist on the ship in my bunk."
Sam let out a moan and her eyes closed. "Do you?"
"No closing your eyes."
"Yes, ma'am. Sir." The mocking tones disappeared as another soft gasp echoed in the common room.
"I want you to watch me watch you."
"How, erotic of you." Her voice breathless, now, every word said on an exhaled pant. Kara wondered if all blonde astrophysicists looked like this as they fucked themselves.
"I thought so." Setting the cigar gently on the table, Kara moved so that she was closer to the other woman. She could feel the heat rising from her skin, hear every shuddering breath she took. "How do you field-strip a P-90?"
"What a question -- god -- to ask at a time like this." There was laughter mixed with the arousal and pleasure in Sam's voice.
"I thought weapons turned you on?"
"They do."
"Mmm. So, first you put the safety on." Arching an eyebrow, Kara waited for the rest.
"Remove the magazine." Sam's back arched and the muscles in her arm stiffened. "And then --"
Kara's mouth closed on hers, drinking down the gasping cry that she released as her body reached completion. She could smell the sweat and arousal Sam exuded, and that coupled with being able to simply watch the other woman made her own nipples tighten and her body ache. "Hey."
"Hey."
"You were right." Kara nipped at Sam's neck, licking at the salty sweat.
"I was?"
"You're much more distracting."
"Good."
"In fact," Kara slipped a hand inside Sam's bra, finger and thumb expertly rolling one nipple. "I think I should lock you in my bunk. As a distraction, you pose a threat."
"What if I don't want to?"
Kara slid her other hand down the front of Sam's pants and nudged the other woman's hand aside, sliding a finger across the damp flesh. "Oh, I'm sure I can convince you."
"You can try."
"I can," Kara bit down lightly at the juncture of shoulder and neck, "make you beg."
"Like last night? I thought that was me making you beg?" Sam's legs shifted, opening her up more. "Besides, anyone could walk in at any moment."
"Then they can throw us both in the brig."
"Separate cells aren't as fun."
"Mmm. Point." Kara pulled back and slid two fingers into Sam.
"God."
Kara's thumb slid across her clitoris. "Objection?"
"I think I --" Sam's hips bucked up as Kara changed her angle of penetration, pressing down. "--remove all objections."
"Good," Kara purred, and then leaned in to kiss her.
"You know," said a dry, male voice conversationally, "I happen to know that you both have quarters of your own. Or haven't you heard about the concept of 'getting a room'?"
Kara pulled away and looked over Sam's shoulder at Captain Lee 'Apollo' Adama. "Hey, Lee." Sam was moving, hastily dragging her shirt down. Kara left her hand right where it was, still stroking in and out. "You sure you're not just jealous?"
He crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, "Of the legendary Starbuck? Gosh, no, why would I be?"
"Because you haven't had a good fuck since before the war started?"
Sam gasped softly, arching, her head dropping back so that she was staring at the officer upside-down. "Captain Apollo. Sir."
"Lieutenant."
There was a smirk on Sam's face to go with the flush and the panting, "Want to join us?"
"No." Lee stiffened, backing away. "Thank you, but no."
"Ah." Sam nodded, then let out a soft moan as Kara's fingers flexed. "Then go away."
He arched an eyebrow, but he went, closing the door behind him.
"Sam?"
"What?"
"Inviting him?" Kara eyed her, eyebrow raised as she continued her slow assault.
"He wouldn't have said --" a gasp and her back arched again, one hand fisting in the material that one of the junior-grade cadets had decided needed to be draped across it. "--yes."
"And how do you know that?"
"He's screwing that communications tech from Caprica."
"Boomer?"
"No, no, the redhead."
"Ah."
Sam gasped again, and Kara slid another finger in, feeling the muscles clench tighter around her fingers.
"Tell me about that P-90 again, Sam."
"Field-stripping a P-90 is not a fantasy of mine."
"You're lying," Kara murmured as her lips closed on the other woman's throat again.
Her fingers twisted as much as they could in the confines of pants and underwear, her thumb pushed down hard on Sam's clitoris. And Sam Carter let loose a stream of profanity that would have turned a senior officer's hair blue.
"What was that about it not being a fantasy?" Kara asked, a minute later as Sam slowly came down, smirking as she drew back, removing her fingers and carefully cleaning them with her tongue.
"You're evil." replied Sam, her eyelids half-closed as she watched.
"And you aren't?"
"Never said that."
Kara picked up her cigar and twirled it once. "Oh, really?"
Buttoning her pants, Sam shrugged, "I'm perfectly willing to admit I'm evil." She stood, only looking slightly wobbly. "Wanna get that room the Captain suggested?"
"If you insist."
"Oh, I do." Sam leaned forward and brushed her lips along Kara's. "I plan to make you beg and scream. For hours."
"Sounds like fun."
"Yup. Move your ass, Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir." Standing slowly, Kara mock-saluted.
Sam made a face. "Pain in the ass."
"Always."
"Move, sir. Or these red panties are staying right where they are until night."
Kara smirked. "Can't have that, can we."
"I should hope not." Sam reached out and snagged her arm. "C'mon."
"Ooo, I love it when you're all authoritarian." Kara's free hand smacked Sam's ass.
"You'll pay for that."
"Are you gonna field-strip a P-90 for me, Princess?" Kara taunted, striding into her quarters. She knew Sam hated her call sign, even if it fit.
"Nope." Sam slammed the door shut and spun Kara, pressing her back into the wall. "I'm gonna do much worse."
"Or better." Kara smirked, "C'mon, Princess, I'm sure you can do better."
Sam's eyes narrowed. "Maybe."
"Good."
-f-
Set: Er. Battlestar Galactica, new miniseries. Probably a month or so after the war began.
Notes: ...Have I mentioned before that I'm occasionally surprised at my capacity for femslash? Well, I am. And pronouns are a bitch. And I came up with Sam's call-sign when talking to Ryuu. "Analyssie: ohmigod. I have the perfect one. Jara may object in the morning. But Starbuck can mock her, and she can snark back. Thus leading to sex. 'Princess'"
Pairing: Lieutenant Kara 'Starbuck' Thrace/Lieutenant Sam 'Princess' Carter
Distracting
by ALC Punk!
"Give me that."
"What?" Sam's eyes were sparkling with innocence. Her hand held the cigar further away.
Kara took a moment to admire the aesthetic lines of Sam Carter's lithe body as it wriggled at her in grey fatigues, then snorted, "I can see right through you, Sam."
"Oooh." She bent close, "Can you tell what color underwear I've got on?"
"Red."
"Good guess."
Kara's hand slid behind Sam's back, fingers sliding under her waistband. "I saw you put them on this morning."
"Mmm." A soft gasp escaped the other pilot. "So you did."
Her other hand tangled into Sam's hair, and she dragged her forwards, pulling her lips close. "And I'm going to take them off you."
"I should hope so."
Breath fluttered against her lips, and then they were kissing, and Kara wondered if there was a time when she thought other people were good kissers. Sam was hard and fast and slow, and moaned so very, very easily when handled just right. And Kara knew, by now, just how to handle her right. Kara's hand slid between cloth and skin, blunt and broken nails scraping just lightly.
The other woman relaxed against her, free hand moving to slide behind her neck. Kara smirked slightly and reached out, wrapping her hand around the other wrist. Caressing the skin with her thumb, she prolonged the kiss until Sam moaned again.
Kara's hand closed around the cigar, and she slowly released the other woman's lips. Bringing the cigar up, she smirked. "Thank you."
"You bitch." Sam breathed, amusement sparking in her eyes.
"I got it, fair and square." Kara slid the butt into her mouth and bit down, lips twisting around it, still smirking.
"Maybe." The blonde and blue-eyed astrophysicist tilted her head to one side, her eyes darkening. "But I bet I can think of things to do that would make you forget it."
"Oh?"
"Starting," Sam's hand slid underneath her own shirt, pulling it up so the tanned and toned skin beneath showed in the light, "with me."
"Could work," acknowledged Kara, eyeing the skin with vague interest. "I think you might have to convince me, though."
Sam glanced at the open door and licked her lips. "Anyone could walk in, you know."
"Yup."
A light flush went across her cheeks and then disappeared. The shirt was pulled up more, revealing pert breasts encased in white cotton. "I suppose they can only throw me in the brig." One hand toyed with the right breast, rubbing over the slowly stiffening nipple.
"I'd come visit you," Kara offered.
"How," Sam's fingers tightened, pinching the nipple, and she let out a soft gasp, "kind of you." Her eyes stared into Kara's.
"Oh, I'm always kind."
"Yes." Sam's other hand joined the first, massaging and rubbing her breasts and the skin of her chest. The flush on her cheeks deepened.
"Still not that distracting."
"Mmm." Eyes half-lidded, Sam stroked down the planes of her stomach and unsnapped the top of her pants. "I'll see if I can change that." One hand slid under the waistband and delved between her legs.
Kara couldn't exactly see it, but she knew what those long, slim fingers were doing, and her own breath quickened slightly. "Not stripping?"
"You," Sam arched slightly, her hips rocking, "get to do that," her left hand went back to rubbing her breasts. "Later."
"Could be a plan. You know, I love knowing that I've got the hottest astrophysicist on the ship in my bunk."
Sam let out a moan and her eyes closed. "Do you?"
"No closing your eyes."
"Yes, ma'am. Sir." The mocking tones disappeared as another soft gasp echoed in the common room.
"I want you to watch me watch you."
"How, erotic of you." Her voice breathless, now, every word said on an exhaled pant. Kara wondered if all blonde astrophysicists looked like this as they fucked themselves.
"I thought so." Setting the cigar gently on the table, Kara moved so that she was closer to the other woman. She could feel the heat rising from her skin, hear every shuddering breath she took. "How do you field-strip a P-90?"
"What a question -- god -- to ask at a time like this." There was laughter mixed with the arousal and pleasure in Sam's voice.
"I thought weapons turned you on?"
"They do."
"Mmm. So, first you put the safety on." Arching an eyebrow, Kara waited for the rest.
"Remove the magazine." Sam's back arched and the muscles in her arm stiffened. "And then --"
Kara's mouth closed on hers, drinking down the gasping cry that she released as her body reached completion. She could smell the sweat and arousal Sam exuded, and that coupled with being able to simply watch the other woman made her own nipples tighten and her body ache. "Hey."
"Hey."
"You were right." Kara nipped at Sam's neck, licking at the salty sweat.
"I was?"
"You're much more distracting."
"Good."
"In fact," Kara slipped a hand inside Sam's bra, finger and thumb expertly rolling one nipple. "I think I should lock you in my bunk. As a distraction, you pose a threat."
"What if I don't want to?"
Kara slid her other hand down the front of Sam's pants and nudged the other woman's hand aside, sliding a finger across the damp flesh. "Oh, I'm sure I can convince you."
"You can try."
"I can," Kara bit down lightly at the juncture of shoulder and neck, "make you beg."
"Like last night? I thought that was me making you beg?" Sam's legs shifted, opening her up more. "Besides, anyone could walk in at any moment."
"Then they can throw us both in the brig."
"Separate cells aren't as fun."
"Mmm. Point." Kara pulled back and slid two fingers into Sam.
"God."
Kara's thumb slid across her clitoris. "Objection?"
"I think I --" Sam's hips bucked up as Kara changed her angle of penetration, pressing down. "--remove all objections."
"Good," Kara purred, and then leaned in to kiss her.
"You know," said a dry, male voice conversationally, "I happen to know that you both have quarters of your own. Or haven't you heard about the concept of 'getting a room'?"
Kara pulled away and looked over Sam's shoulder at Captain Lee 'Apollo' Adama. "Hey, Lee." Sam was moving, hastily dragging her shirt down. Kara left her hand right where it was, still stroking in and out. "You sure you're not just jealous?"
He crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, "Of the legendary Starbuck? Gosh, no, why would I be?"
"Because you haven't had a good fuck since before the war started?"
Sam gasped softly, arching, her head dropping back so that she was staring at the officer upside-down. "Captain Apollo. Sir."
"Lieutenant."
There was a smirk on Sam's face to go with the flush and the panting, "Want to join us?"
"No." Lee stiffened, backing away. "Thank you, but no."
"Ah." Sam nodded, then let out a soft moan as Kara's fingers flexed. "Then go away."
He arched an eyebrow, but he went, closing the door behind him.
"Sam?"
"What?"
"Inviting him?" Kara eyed her, eyebrow raised as she continued her slow assault.
"He wouldn't have said --" a gasp and her back arched again, one hand fisting in the material that one of the junior-grade cadets had decided needed to be draped across it. "--yes."
"And how do you know that?"
"He's screwing that communications tech from Caprica."
"Boomer?"
"No, no, the redhead."
"Ah."
Sam gasped again, and Kara slid another finger in, feeling the muscles clench tighter around her fingers.
"Tell me about that P-90 again, Sam."
"Field-stripping a P-90 is not a fantasy of mine."
"You're lying," Kara murmured as her lips closed on the other woman's throat again.
Her fingers twisted as much as they could in the confines of pants and underwear, her thumb pushed down hard on Sam's clitoris. And Sam Carter let loose a stream of profanity that would have turned a senior officer's hair blue.
"What was that about it not being a fantasy?" Kara asked, a minute later as Sam slowly came down, smirking as she drew back, removing her fingers and carefully cleaning them with her tongue.
"You're evil." replied Sam, her eyelids half-closed as she watched.
"And you aren't?"
"Never said that."
Kara picked up her cigar and twirled it once. "Oh, really?"
Buttoning her pants, Sam shrugged, "I'm perfectly willing to admit I'm evil." She stood, only looking slightly wobbly. "Wanna get that room the Captain suggested?"
"If you insist."
"Oh, I do." Sam leaned forward and brushed her lips along Kara's. "I plan to make you beg and scream. For hours."
"Sounds like fun."
"Yup. Move your ass, Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir." Standing slowly, Kara mock-saluted.
Sam made a face. "Pain in the ass."
"Always."
"Move, sir. Or these red panties are staying right where they are until night."
Kara smirked. "Can't have that, can we."
"I should hope not." Sam reached out and snagged her arm. "C'mon."
"Ooo, I love it when you're all authoritarian." Kara's free hand smacked Sam's ass.
"You'll pay for that."
"Are you gonna field-strip a P-90 for me, Princess?" Kara taunted, striding into her quarters. She knew Sam hated her call sign, even if it fit.
"Nope." Sam slammed the door shut and spun Kara, pressing her back into the wall. "I'm gonna do much worse."
"Or better." Kara smirked, "C'mon, Princess, I'm sure you can do better."
Sam's eyes narrowed. "Maybe."
"Good."
-f-
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And Princess? You know, I can buy that if Starbuck actually gave her the name and now Sam hates her for it. *cackles*
Dude, I love this! Yeah, I'm turning into a femmeslasher. Yaaaaay!
Thank you, hon. *cuddles*
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OH. more please? I have a total fetish for girls with a gun fetish.
and masturbation and public sex and Apollo walking in and oh oh oh...
*thud*
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Thank you. =)
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but if you want my advice about organizing, you could take all the ones you've written and put them in chronological order (for the characters). I bet they would fit together in some semi-coherent hot-girls-who-have-sex-lots kind of way. you might have to write a first-time thingy to go after the early non-smut bit, if I recall.
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Now, if I were doing an actual crossover...
Hah. And some of them could use titles. Yes. Hrm. I think first-time is the only thing I haven't written for them. *g*
*wanders off, thinking*
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