disclaimer: not mine
pairing: Anastasia Dualla/Lee Adama
set: year on New Caprica
rating: R, porn, language
length: 1200+
notes: written for the .-Sixth Porn Battle, but went a little over. Oops. Prompt was 'dirt'.

Making the Most of it
by ALC Punk!

Lee takes her down to New Caprica one afternoon. A quick day off, where they can both relax just a little more than they can aboard Pegasus. They're still learning to adjust, though, to this new ship and this new marriage. The shiny hasn't quite worn off her ring yet, but it's still a different feeling than illicitly stealing into the Commander's quarters was.

Outside of the immediate settlement, she relaxes--no one is looking, judging them both, waiting for her to fall. No whispers about the Adamas and their grab for power. Dee could tell them she didn't get her promotion on her back, but they wouldn't believe her anymore than they believed Lee was simply the best of a short list. His father's son, they whisper, half in awe, half in derision.

With the afternoon sun falling down on them, they chase each other through open meadows and forest, laughing. And for a moment, they are simply Anastasia and Lee. She misses this, up there--not that she'd trade her job for living planet-side in the dirt. Dee knows she'd miss the steel decks and equipment at her fingertips, the comms chatter, and the sense of relief every time their pilots come back alive.

So she lets Lee chase her, lets him catch her against a tree and they're both laughing by then. Breathless and giddy with the fresh air and sunlight.

A moment later, she lets him pull her to the ground, the blanket he threw down minutes before not keeping sticks from poking her in the back. Not that she's noticing them that much, with the other sensations involved with being pressed against the ground by Lee Adama.

Her husband is quick and sure, mouth on her breasts before she's halfway out of her shirts and bra.

Gods -- Dee drags his mouth back to hers, breath coming in quick gasps already. She thinks it's the sunlight that's got her so ready, or maybe his laughter. The way his hands tug at the fabric of her shirts until her fingers are tangled in them and she can't quite move as his mouth goes back to her breasts.

"Lee--" the whimper rips from her mouth before she's ready to admit how much she needs.

His mouth comes back to hers, his hands busy with her belt and pants. They kiss for too long and not enough, and Dee, finally breaking free, her hands empty of fabric again, says, "You're still dressed, Lee."

"Ya think?" he asks, laughter escaping him as he tugs on her pants, mouth moving to her chin and then her neck, licking and sucking his way down until he's distracted by her breasts again.

"Frak--" Dee grates out, knowing some would be shocked at such language coming from perfect little Dee (she knows what they think of her and she wishes she had Starbuck's ability to not care). Her pants are still in the way, and his shirt, too.

Lee's smug and breathless as he sucks hard, releasing her nipple with a pop and looking up at her, "Something you want, Mrs. Adama?"

In retaliation, Dee hooks her fingers in his shirt and pulls until he has to push up so she can remove it. The one time he didn't, she actually ripped the shirt a little, surprised at her own strength--though it could just have been washed one too many times. Stroking her hands over his shoulders, she smiles lazily at him. "You brought me here, Mr. Adama."

He laughs again and rolls them, his hands sliding up her abdomen to her breasts again, stroking a little too lightly for her tastes. She presses into his fingers, skin hot and aching for more (his mouth again, sucking until she's making that noise in the back of her throat that always feels too vulnerable).

"Pants," Lee says after she's hissing and grinding down against him, able to feel him hard underneath her.

Dee rolls off of him to the side, hands shaking as she finishes his forgotten job with her belt and the snaps on her pants. She's shoving them off, her panties with them an instant later. Some part of her whispers that this might not be such a good idea. Someone could come along and find them, but she finds herself a little too desperate to care. Her boots confuse her for a moment before she's got the laces yanked loose and the offending footwear off.

"I win," Lee says, already naked and stretched on his back, lazy as he watches her.

"Maybe you do, maybe you don't," she replies, climbing back onto him, straddling his stomach and pressing down so he can feel her wet against his skin. The muscles beneath clench and shift, and she bends down, arching her back and rocking her hips just a little. Just keeping herself on the edge and waiting for him to do more.

He groans when she shifts to reach behind herself, fingers closing loosely around his erect cock.

Laughing with delight, Dee leans down, "Do you want to frak me, Lee?" she whispers, lips brushing his cheek and neck, feathering kisses that make his skin jump, "Do you want to feel me around you, riding you until you're mindless?"

Talking like that has always surprised her. It wasn't the things she'd heard on porn vids or from the pilots, sometimes. But it gives her an edge over him.

His hands fastened on her hips and he tugs, "Frak. Yes. Gods, Dee."

Now she's the one smug as she shifts up and then down, taking him in with a twist of her hips and a guttural sound she hadn't meant to make. Not that she minds. Frak, but her husband feels good like this. All needy beneath her, fingers digging into her skin enough she might have bruises.

Dropping forwards, she braces herself with her palms flat in the dirt. At some point, they'd shifted off the blanket, but it hardly matters now. There's dirt between her fingers as she clenches them, rhythm quick and efficient. Just the way she knows will drive him insane--drive her mad, too. And she bites back another curse as one of his hands comes up to her breasts, thumb and finger pinching and stroking until it's her who's over the edge.

He laughs when she climaxes, laughs and then chokes off into a hoarse sound when she has the leverage to shift and twist, clenching tight around him even as her control goes completely.


She's laughing as she flops against his chest, not caring that his fingers are still tight on her skin and her palms are covered in grass and silt. "We gotta do this again sometime," she eventually manages to say.



It's New Caprica, after all, and she once heard it was the best place for a new start. Maybe they can take advantage of that, too.