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moogingMY BRAIN: So, why don't you write some crack!fic fluff for BSG?
ME: ....
MY BRAIN: It could be girlslashy?
ME: .....
MY BRAIN: DO IT DO IT NOW.
ME: Curses.
CRACK!FIC FLUFF: *is written*
Title: Make Me Laugh, Keep Me Quiet
Rating: PG / PG13. Nothing too offensive, nothing explicit.
Fandom - Pairing: BSG - Kara/Laura
Word Count: 616
Disclaimer: No, these characters are not mine. I wrote the words. I do not own anything to do with the show. I do own far more dvds than a normal person should. No sue me.
Summary: Involving giddiness and kissing and incidents in the hangar bay.
A/N: As previously detailed, my brain abused me into doing this. Not that it wasn't good to write! I still like comments, by the way. Also, I make no excuse for the crack!y fluff warping the characters a little. *sigh*
Yes, it was daft, and, Kara thinks, entirely un-presidential, but now she has arms full of soft, warm and laughing Laura and nothing else seems to matter.
"Shhh," giggles Kara, exceptionally unconvincingly.
But Laura can't, and she's shaking and heaving peals of laughter into Kara's shoulder where she's buried her head, hair tickling Kara's chin.
And it's not like they're anywhere particularly hidden; they're kind of huddled in a nook of Galactica and people keep looking at them. Only out of the corner of their eyes though, because despite being several shades of giddy right now, Laura is still the President.
"Did you," Laura finally manages to choke out, pulling back and raking her hands through her hair, "Did you see his face?" And then she doubles over, hand over her mouth, and laughs and laughs and laughs.
Kara seriously starts to contemplate dragging the President into a closet, if just so people stop frakking staring.
Laura looks up again, flushed and still very much on the verge of hysterics, and Kara throws caution to the wind, grabs her by the hand, and pulls her into the nearest space with a door she can find. She shuts the door. It is, in fact, a closet.
"Um," she says, "Um. Sorry about that, sir."
Then a broom falls on them and Laura dissolves again.
"Ahahahahaha," snorts Laura, and Kara rolls her eyes. Somehow, from a completely routine Presidential trip to Galactica being announced, she has ended up enduring several taunts from a certain Captain Adama, being caught largely off-guard by having the living daylights kissed out of her by the President in response and now taking charge of a very loud Laura Roslin, who seems supremely unconcerned with the part of the day where the hangar bay saw her kissing a viper pilot.
Although, thinks Kara, the crazy laughing lady has a point. Lee's face more than makes up for it all. He'll think twice before...well, before doing anything near either of them, ever. Ever ever. The second she thinks this, that's it, she's gone, and she can laugh louder than Laura and with far more expletives amid the madness.
Laura straightens up, wiping her eyes, "Kara, let's leave the cackling hysteria to me, shall we?"
It's Kara's turn not to be able to speak, and she's reached that stage where she's laughing and laughing without being able to make a sound, because Lee looked so much like a...a...like a funny something with big eyes and a gormless face that right now, breathing is slightly trickier than scientists would have her believe. It is now Laura's turn to roll her eyes.
Roll her eyes, and press herself against Kara and do that kissing thing again, with her lips and her tongue and her breath, and Kara soon shuts the frak up.
Somehow though, somehow in the midst of Kara's mind starting to fry with good, Laura starts to giggle into her mouth and jerks back, eyes closed and lips clamped together. "I'm sorry," she says, "But did you see his face?"
Kara shoves the President up against a cold closet wall and slides one slightly shaky hand up her thigh, "Yes," she manages, "I did. And now I'm looking at yours."
In the end, thinks Kara, now looking at a very different and equally noisy Laura Roslin, they have to thank Lee. If not for his sheer idiocy and his highly attractive stunned-face, they might not be in this closet.
That, she thinks, is worth a little loss of presidential behaviour.
Like? No like?
ME: ....
MY BRAIN: It could be girlslashy?
ME: .....
MY BRAIN: DO IT DO IT NOW.
ME: Curses.
CRACK!FIC FLUFF: *is written*
Title: Make Me Laugh, Keep Me Quiet
Rating: PG / PG13. Nothing too offensive, nothing explicit.
Fandom - Pairing: BSG - Kara/Laura
Word Count: 616
Disclaimer: No, these characters are not mine. I wrote the words. I do not own anything to do with the show. I do own far more dvds than a normal person should. No sue me.
Summary: Involving giddiness and kissing and incidents in the hangar bay.
A/N: As previously detailed, my brain abused me into doing this. Not that it wasn't good to write! I still like comments, by the way. Also, I make no excuse for the crack!y fluff warping the characters a little. *sigh*
Yes, it was daft, and, Kara thinks, entirely un-presidential, but now she has arms full of soft, warm and laughing Laura and nothing else seems to matter.
"Shhh," giggles Kara, exceptionally unconvincingly.
But Laura can't, and she's shaking and heaving peals of laughter into Kara's shoulder where she's buried her head, hair tickling Kara's chin.
And it's not like they're anywhere particularly hidden; they're kind of huddled in a nook of Galactica and people keep looking at them. Only out of the corner of their eyes though, because despite being several shades of giddy right now, Laura is still the President.
"Did you," Laura finally manages to choke out, pulling back and raking her hands through her hair, "Did you see his face?" And then she doubles over, hand over her mouth, and laughs and laughs and laughs.
Kara seriously starts to contemplate dragging the President into a closet, if just so people stop frakking staring.
Laura looks up again, flushed and still very much on the verge of hysterics, and Kara throws caution to the wind, grabs her by the hand, and pulls her into the nearest space with a door she can find. She shuts the door. It is, in fact, a closet.
"Um," she says, "Um. Sorry about that, sir."
Then a broom falls on them and Laura dissolves again.
"Ahahahahaha," snorts Laura, and Kara rolls her eyes. Somehow, from a completely routine Presidential trip to Galactica being announced, she has ended up enduring several taunts from a certain Captain Adama, being caught largely off-guard by having the living daylights kissed out of her by the President in response and now taking charge of a very loud Laura Roslin, who seems supremely unconcerned with the part of the day where the hangar bay saw her kissing a viper pilot.
Although, thinks Kara, the crazy laughing lady has a point. Lee's face more than makes up for it all. He'll think twice before...well, before doing anything near either of them, ever. Ever ever. The second she thinks this, that's it, she's gone, and she can laugh louder than Laura and with far more expletives amid the madness.
Laura straightens up, wiping her eyes, "Kara, let's leave the cackling hysteria to me, shall we?"
It's Kara's turn not to be able to speak, and she's reached that stage where she's laughing and laughing without being able to make a sound, because Lee looked so much like a...a...like a funny something with big eyes and a gormless face that right now, breathing is slightly trickier than scientists would have her believe. It is now Laura's turn to roll her eyes.
Roll her eyes, and press herself against Kara and do that kissing thing again, with her lips and her tongue and her breath, and Kara soon shuts the frak up.
Somehow though, somehow in the midst of Kara's mind starting to fry with good, Laura starts to giggle into her mouth and jerks back, eyes closed and lips clamped together. "I'm sorry," she says, "But did you see his face?"
Kara shoves the President up against a cold closet wall and slides one slightly shaky hand up her thigh, "Yes," she manages, "I did. And now I'm looking at yours."
In the end, thinks Kara, now looking at a very different and equally noisy Laura Roslin, they have to thank Lee. If not for his sheer idiocy and his highly attractive stunned-face, they might not be in this closet.
That, she thinks, is worth a little loss of presidential behaviour.
Like? No like?
