Under pressure

AN: OK, so this is a double premiere for me: my first Battlestar Galactica story and my first attempt at smut. I hope you'll enjoy it as I sat writing it with a strange combination of excitement and fear. So, more than ever, I'm anxiously awaiting your reviews, good, bad or ugly.

Spoilers: Set after episode 1.11 Colonial Day. Please note that so far, that's exactly as far as I've seen the show myself, so I'm not hindered by any other knowledge so far...

Disclaimer: As much as I wish to own just a little bit of Apollo, I don't. Nor do I own any of the other characters of the show. So don't think of coming after me, there's nothing to be gotten from me but a half-fried laptop anyway.

On with the story...

You're a pilot. A viper pilot at that. A damn good one, no make that the best one in history. That's no bragging, that's a plain and simple truth. Statistics prove it. No-one can compete, no-one but him, that is. And you need the competition to keep you on your toes. The spark the two of you create when flying together is more effective than the rest of the entire fleet combined. And then there's fact it usually turns you on real quickly. Yes, you know that, as a female pilot, you're not supposed to admit that. But that never mattered. Not to you, not to him. Or so you keep telling yourself.

The only thing he can beat you at, constantly and persistently, is his rigid self-control. You never had much of that. That's no shame, that's a plain and simple truth. You do only wish, do very hard, that you shared that certain character trade with him. Getting horny from flying with him is one thing, exuding it with every singly pore of your body is quite another. Keeping control gets tougher every time you get out of the cockpit and into his presence, especially since your quarters are cramped and the man knows no bodily shame. Not that he would need any, but a bit of modesty wouldn't go amiss. It certainly would help you get your hormones under control.

Gods, you need some restraint. If you had any, than you wouldn't find yourself in this very awkward, very uncomfortable situation. Though the more intimate parts of your body loudly belie the discomfort parts.

But since when is that something new?

The moment being as it is, your mind races to trace back the horrifying sequence of events that led to your being here…

It started out so nicely, almost comical in its innocence compared to the flammable position you're in now. You remember putting on the blue dress, the earrings, spraying on just a tiny squirt of perfume from a bottle you keep hidden in one of the side pockets of your duffel bag. For the first time in a long time you allowed yourself to feel feminine, to be Kara Thrace the woman, not Starbuck the pilot. To dress like a lady (keeping the friendly insult about your personal hygiene in mind and ready for a payback) and actually enjoy it.

Next scene in your mind places you at the bar, sitting with your back to the crowd and, like always, feeling his presence before you turn to look at him. He looks obscenely handsome in his dress uniform, but that's no novelty. What is quite new and very entertaining, not to mention flattering, is the almost starving look he gives you, blue eyes wide and mouth gaping, before stuttering out some inane compliment about your knees. Gods, he's cute when he's suddenly confronted with the evidence of how well you can clean up once you put your mind to it.

And then you're dancing, supposedly as friends and an appropriate distance apart. He's dipping you, swirling you and nothing about it seems either weird or charged. In that moment, you're two best friends having some well-deserved fun after weeks of long, hard, death-defying days.

That's until, seemingly out of the blue, Gaius Baltar cuts in. Being a gentleman, Lee lets go of you, handing you over to the loose arms of the new vice-president, but you know him only too well. His stiff posture and the throbbing vein in his neck indicate he's not at all amused, mad even. Scratch that, Captain Lee Adama is as pissed as a cross wired toaster. And you have no idea what the frak he's thinking as he stalks off. As your new dance partner takes the lead, you see him head for the bar, but then you're turned into another direction and you lose sight of him.

It's the last time you see him before five minutes ago. Baltar is a great dancer, a nice, albeit delusional conversationalist (is it you, or does the man suffer from some type of schizophrenia?) and somewhat of a friend. Since you're there to have a good time, you decide to forget about Lee's attitude problems for the time being and concentrate on not losing your footing. So you dance, swirl, drink and laugh until you're tired (not quite so much at ease on your high heeled shoes) and slightly tipsy, courtesy of the wonderful ambrosia flowing freely all night.

Baltar's clearly interested in taking you to your room (or in your room; all pun intended), his hints becoming less subtle and more brass by the minute, but even though you let him walk you back to your room, even though he's trying to kiss you and even though you haven't had a good frak since way before humanity seemed doomed and the Heavens know you could do with one, somehow your mind can't get itself adjusted to making that move with this particular man. Not when the only eyes your subconscious can come up with are radiant blue ones and the only lips you want to hear whisper your name are those of your CAG, your superior officer, your friend.

Your superior officer. Your almost brother-in-law. Off limits and out of bounds by so much more than just anti-frat rules. Rules that are broken by anyone on any level anyway, silently allowed by a commander who knows he couldn't and perhaps shouldn't even try to stop it from happening in the first place. Not when so few of Galactica's staff have anyone left but each other.

But would he also look the other way when the one breaking the rules is his only surviving, by the book son doing it with a girl whom he claims to consider a daughter, who should have been married to his other son, if only she hadn't gotten him killed? Would he understand that your feelings for Lee now disturb you too, but that you're holding on by the fingernails and your grip is loosening? That right now, you're about to fall for real?

This entire frakked up situation is so wrong on so many levels and you have wished many times and with all your heart that it would never lead to this particular moment, all the while knowing it was inevitable, unavoidable. Fate.

Back to the moment at present. He must have seen you leaving the party still accompanied by your resident genius weirdo slash vice president. Filled up to the gills with liquid courage and years of piled up emotions, he has followed you and after successfully ordering the easily spooked Baltar to take a hike, he's left alone with you.

And now, he's backed you up against the wall, in the hallway, only two feet away from you assigned quarters. His face is inches away from yours and you can look straight into his clear blue eyes, staring at you with almost fearful intensity. Like the blue center of a very hot flame, signaling eminent combustion.

You're not intimidated whatsoever. Dress or no dress, drunk or not, you've dealt with pissed off Lee before and you refuse to back down just because tonight you're not in your usual battle gear. Gulping, you try your best to ignore that one other, not to be named emotion in his eyes. There's anger for sure fueled by jealousy you've known was there. But there's lust as well. It's been there before too, but up until this moment, Lee has never once allowed it to drift so closely to the surface.

It's not close to the surface now either. It's even more blatantly obvious than that. And not just in his gaze either. Let's just say one specific region south of his belt is swollen with something other than barely controlled rage. Since he's pressed so close to you, it's impossible not to notice and it really doesn't help you hold on to your own last vestiges of modesty and regulations.

His hoarse voice demands answers from you in harsh whispers, the questions being spat out from his tightly pressed lips like shots coming from his Viper. As always, there's as effective as they are accurate. Good thing you didn't expect anything else. Lee Adama never misses a target. But then again, neither do you.

On instinct, your body straightens itself so you're standing at attention, no longer leaning against the wall as a non-existent leverage, no longer playing Lady Kara. It's Starbuck you need in order to survive this heat. Lee notices your change in demeanor straight away and acts accordingly. Standing taller (and no longer even bothering to try and hide his obvious erection), he continues his personal inquisition.

"What do you think you were doing, Lieutenant? Having a frak with the new vice-president?"

"Maybe, Sir."

Heck, it's probably true. You can't honestly testify, not to him and not to yourself, that you would not have slept with Gaius Baltar had Lee not interfered. Not that it would have meant anything, but since when does a frak have to have any meaning? It is what it is and you're just as much entitled to have some release as any of the other jocks do. And maybe even more so; you usually work twice as hard as most of them.

Still, as expected, your non-committal answer sparks him off again, obviously reeking a motive you haven't even thought of yet.

"So…this eh…frakking…would that be just for the hell of it, or are you trying to work your way up in a different way, Sir?"

That last one does it. Red hot boiling rage, combined with pent up frustration dating back at least two years, takes over your being. Not caring, not even thinking about the consequences, your hand shoots out, but instead of slapping him in the face like he would expect you to do, you reach down and grab a very firm hold of his considerable bulge. His eyes widen, his breath hitches. New beads of perspiration form on his forehead and he swallows convulsively. He looks both frightened and incredibly turned on. For all he knows, you're about to emasculate him. Relishing in the thrill of the power you have over him, you give him an extra squeeze, triumph roaring inside of you as he lets out a low guttural groan. It's been too long for him too.

With a feral grin, clenched teeth and a clenched fist you answer:

"If I need to frak my way up, I'd rather start with the CAG. Sir."

All bets are off. A growl escapes from his throat as Captain Adama's iron self control snaps. His lips on yours are bruising and anything but tender, but who needs tenderness? It's very overrated when you're already consumed by flames.

Somehow the two of you manage to stumble to your room, open and close the door and fall onto the bed. Firm and unyielding hands yank up your dress, which gets tangled up because neither one of you can stop the frantic kissing. With inhumane efforts, you wrench your swollen lips away from his and discard the offensive piece of clothing. Lee gasps and only then do you remember that this particular dress did not work with any of your regular sports bras and you had to forego on them altogether.

Being the greedy man he is at the moment, his hands immediately cup both your breasts, caressing and kneading them and gently pinching the already hardened nipples. Your purr gets lost in his kisses, unlike the little mewl of disappointment that escapes your throat when his lips leave yours. Soon enough though, you're back to purring and hissing as he now trails a soft line of kisses down your neck, biting and sucking your pulse point. He already knows your weak spots.

Again, since when is that something new?

He chuckles when he hears your noises of pleasure.

"Save your vocal chords for later, Kara. The CAG's not done with you yet."

You bloody well don't hope so! You will castrate him if he dares to stop now. But oh Gods, he doesn't. His mouth, his beautiful mouth, is making its way to replace one of his hands. As a starving babe, he latches on to one puckered nipple and starts to lick, bite and suckle. You throw your head back and moan as liquid heat, like molten lava, pools low in your belly, bubbling and flowing more rapidly with every heartbeat.

Chuckling again, he nuzzles the valley between your breasts before giving the exact same treatment to the other breast.

You're so busy concentrating on what his mouth is doing, you hardly realize his right hand has travelled down further and is now tracing slow, soft circles on the skin of your inner thighs, getting closer and closer to the volcano's entrance. You yelp in surprise when his long fingers shove away the fabric of you panties and get into first close contact with your drenched folds.

Now it's his time to grin up at you.

"Seems you want me, Lieutenant."

Gods help you, you do. You moan and try to get him to move, but he keeps his hands just a little away from the place where you need him most.

"Say it."

Pompous jerk! If only you weren't so desperate, you would never submit. As it is, you can't wait a moment longer.

"Frak me, Captain!"

Both demand and insult, Lee decides to take it as the first.

"Good enough," he concedes, before pushing two fingers into your wet hot core and grazing the tip of his thumb against your swollen nub. Once…twice…three strokes.

That's all it takes. Your mind goes haywire, your body convulses as the heat overtakes your senses. Strangely enough, your vocal chords give way and all you manage is a strangled gasp. At long last, the convulsions cease and you float gently in space as a still Viper between two attacks.

Apparently, Lee has the same idea, because you haven't noticed that, in between your violent spasms, he has somehow managed to pull your panties off completely and is now squatting between your still trembling legs. He softly whispers your name, your given name, making it sound like an endearment, or better yet, a prayer.

"Kara? Kara love, open your eyes." You groggily obey his demand.

"Lee?" You croak out as his intentions become all too clear. He gives you another one of his patented grins.

"I told you I wasn't done with you yet."

That's all the warning you get before he plunges his tongue in as deeply as he can.

"Oh Gods Lee!"

Your knuckles go white as you grab hold of the sheets, or his hair, or anywhere you can reach that can save you from falling off the bed as you writhe in endless pleasure. He kisses, licks, suckles and nibbles at your most sensitive flesh until you don't know where one orgasm ends and the other begins. All your senses go into overdrive, you're babbling, sobbing and begging and he's giving and giving, more and more…

And then, suddenly, it stops. Half disappointed and half relieved, you fall back on the bed, panting heavily, your heartbeat slowing down little by little. When your vision returns to you this time, Lee has crawled his way back up your body, his face close to yours. He kisses you sweetly, gently, all aggression and resentment between the two of you forgotten for the moment.

You shift your legs a little and come into contact with his straining erection. He hisses in a combination of pleasure and pain and immediately you feel a bit contrite. He's been quite selfless so far, thinking of you first and surely he deserves the same from you. On its own accord, your hand reaches down and grasps him in a much gentler grip than before. He's still completely dressed, though. And that's just not fair, not fair at all.

"Let's get you out of this uniform, Captain."

Working together, it takes all of ten seconds to get him as naked as the day he was born. Another pool of heat develops in your nether regions again as you feast your eyes upon his male beauty. Surely you've seen most of it before, but right here, right now, in all his glory, you get to bask in the idea that it's you who have caused this gorgeous male to be so aroused, so ready for you. Unabashed, you drink in the sight of him, letting it burn into your retina for all eternity. He shivers beneath you gaze and you give him the sweetest smile. Gone are your intentions to hurt him. Now you just want to give him as much pleasure as he has given you so far.

"Lean back, Apollo. Brace yourself."

Trailing soft, feathery kisses down his neck, his chest and solid abs, you finally reach his aching, weeping member. Drops of pearly fluid are already forming on the tip of it and with just the smallest of licks you swipe them off.

"Gods, Kara," he groans and you stifle a giggle. Who's at who's mercy now, CAG?

Soon enough, his moans become more unintelligible as you take him all in, kissing, nibbling, licking and sucking as he has done to you. Now it's his hands that are creasing the sheets in a death grip, eyes rolling back into his sockets, breath hitching, heart pounding.

The stiffening of his body, the tightening in his balls are telltale signals he's close now, but just as you want to give it a little extra effort to send him over, he gently pushes you away. Confused and a tad hurt, you look up at him. Why doesn't he want you to finish? Isn't that every man's dream?

Through his haze, he must have noticed the pained look on your face and he reaches out to cup your cheek. Still panting, he tries to explain.

"So good…but wanna be inside you when I…wanna make it real…love…you"

Now that you understand what he wants, another surge of love for this man flows over you, combined with a desperate, aching need. Still, you can't help but tease him a little.

"Well well Captain, isn't that the crappiest speech I've ever heard from you. And that's saying something."

Not amused and frankly growing quite desperate, Lee's sudden and agile move catches you completely by surprise. Before you know it, you're again flat on your back on the bed and he's hovering over you, straining erection poised at your entrance.

"Not funny. Need you…now."

Good thing you're absolutely done teasing now as your own desperation matches his.

"Frak me, Lee."

He doesn't need to be told twice. Immediately, he roughly pushes himself into you, but you're more than ready to receive all of him. Heart, soul and body. Fighting for control not to let go too soon, he remains still for a moment, before starting a rhythm and quickly picking up the pace, all the while making sure you're fine with his movements.

There's no cause for worry, though. You're nearly delirious with pleasure, he fills you up so well, it's like your bodies have known each other all along. And perhaps, you figure, they have. Why else would you always fly as one?

But then there's no time left for any thoughts at all. His right hand reaches down to touch the spot right above where you are fused together and within seconds, the volcano is about to erupt again. Only this time, you need to make sure he's there with you. That the two of you will fly as one now too.


"It's alright. Just let go. I'll follow."

You would have never believed it to be possible, but it is. As your orgasm grips you, envelopes you, it's even more powerful than anything you've experienced so far. There's no time for sound, only a whispered calling of his name. Within seconds, you can feel Lee's body tense up and release itself, triggering another, milder orgasm for you, rather like a delicious aftershock.

Exhausted, he collapses on top of you, mumbling something sounding like an apology as he does so. You don't mind, the warmth and weight of his body is welcome to you. You're no waif of a girl, you can take his bulk and quite frankly, you're happy he's yet to break your connection as he's still inside of you.

Nothing is said and nobody moves. The bubble remains intact. It'll burst soon enough, you just know it will. Whatever happens or won't happen after tonight, you promise yourself you won't ever regret what has just happened. It was too beautiful, too precious of a gift and you refuse to discard it. On the other side of the medallion, you won't allow yourself to be fooled into trusting that this will go anywhere beyond this night. For as much as you wish you could pretend, the status quo between the two of you really hasn't changed.

Lee Adama might have been your lover for tonight, tomorrow he's still your CAG and your superior officer. And hopefully, your friend.

What if, in the morning, his mask is up again and he considers this to be nothing more than the release of some pent-up sexual tension? It might have been nothing more to you at the beginning either, but…oh who are you trying to fool? It was more than that, it always has been.

To you. But what about him?

Not being able to sleep with him again might be painful, losing him altogether because of it will surely break you, shatter you.

The involuntary sob that escapes your throat at the thought doesn't go unnoticed and Lee lifts his head to throw you a look that is so full of warmth, love and concern that you start sobbing even harder.

"Kara? What's wrong, love? Are you hurt?"

His caress is soft. Smoothly he changes positions, turning on his back and dragging you on top of him, cocooned safely in his arms as you cry, unable to stop the flow. He comforts you, making soft noises and uttering sweet words into your ear until, finally, the tears dry on your cheeks and you might be able to tell him what thoughts led to your little emotional breakdown.

"What's going to happen now, Lee?"

You're too scared, too tired to keep up the Starbuck pretense. He's made love to Kara tonight and Kara is a petrified young woman and not too ashamed to show it. Lee's incredible blue eyes, only minutes ago ablaze with lust, are now dark and serious, but haven't lost their warmth. He sighs before carefully formulating his answer.

"I don't know, Kara love. We'll sleep, get up in a few hours, get dressed and go back to Galactica."

You nod. It's so definitive, so final. Just like you feared. But Lee clearly hasn't finished his answer yet.

"And then…as soon as we come back, I'll go see the Commander and I'll tell him that I don't care if I'm the CAG, his son and your superior officer, but that I'm about to break every single rule ever written about fraternization just to be able to be with you!"

It's so vehement a statement that you almost burst out laughing, if only you couldn't tell he's absolutely serious. It surprises you, touches you to the extreme. That he would go this far against his commanding officer, his father, to defy the structures he has lived by for all those years, only for you. Does that mean…could that possibly mean he…? But it can't be. Not when…

"Do you love me, Lee? Despite of everything?"

"Despite of what?"


"No, Kara. Not despite of Zac, but regardless of Zac. You've got to let go of that idiot idea of yours that Zac got killed because of you!"

"I let him pass!"

"And dad forced him to go to the Academy in the first place. And I never protected him against our dad and neither did mom. And Zac never had to guts to stand up for himself, to walk away from a life he knew he didn't want for himself! All of us, Zac included, got him killed, Kara, but it's been well over two years and no amount of guilt from any of us will get him back."

You remain silent. There's nothing you can say.

"Kara, please listen to me. There are only 45,000 people left. Each and every one of those people has lost a lot of others they cared for. But they too have to move on. As we do. And with so little to choose from, so little to look forward to, we would be complete idiots to throw away what we have found. We can't afford to cast aside what we feel, Kara. Not when so many would give their entire livelihood to have it back. Don't you see? We're the lucky ones. We've found a match. We found love."

He traces the dried up tear tracks on your face before kissing you lovingly, ending it way too soon for your liking.

"So to answer your question: Yes, Kara Thrace, my wonderful Lieutenant Starbuck, I love you. With all my heart. Despite of everything, regardless of anything. I love you."

"I love you too, Lee Adama."

"Sure you do. What's not to love?"

The arrogance!

"Oh frak you, Lee."

He grins before drowning you in another sweet kiss.

"As the lady wishes."


Thanks for reading. Now please, let me know what you think...