Kara Thrace was having a bad day.

It could be one of many things. Not being able to fly, not being able to walk properly because her knee hurt, having several difficulties getting dressed, having to spend the majority of her time in the CIC, or just Lee Adama's cocky smile and the bow-legged swagger he left with, leaving her standing in The Ready Room grinding her molars.

Or it could be a combination.

Currently, she sat at an unmanned comm station with all the screens dark watching everyone else in the CIC run around like worker ants. She chewed her gum, fingered the cigar in her breast pocket and rotated her glares from her knee, to the Dradis screen, Gaeta, Tigh and the speakers through which the Vipers in the air spoke.

The full rotation of scowls was then finalized and reset by a roll of her eyes and a sigh that sounded suspiciously like 'frak'.

Dee was asking questions, and the Commander was staring intently at the dradis screen while Gaeta jumped from monitor to monitor like an excited dog. Tigh wasn't doing anything other than looking suitably drunk and pretending recognize that the marks on the dradis screen were Vipers and Cylons duking it out rather than just pretty blinky lights.

Lee's voice came in loud an clear. Louder and clearer than anyone else's, probably because the idiot yelled when he was in his helmet.

Kara watched his Viper tag on the screen, bearing left towards a formation of Cylons. She frowned and sat up, looking for his wingman or even a follow-up.


He announced his approach and ready-fire, and Kara pulled herself up and achingly hobbled over to the illuminated command desk.

"Sir, where's his wingman?" She asked tersely. Her knee throbbed.

Tigh gave her a dirty look down his nose and scoffed.

"You're one to talk. Like you ever do anything that needs a wingman."

"I don't take on three Cylons at once. He's going to get hit, no matter what he does. His blindside can be taken by any one of them."

"Blind side," Tigh muttered with a slight cough.

Adama looked at her sharply, and glanced back up at the screen. His lips thinned and Kara realized he hadn't been watching Lee's tag like she had.

"It's too late to have anyone assist now. He's within firing range," The Old Man said flatly and Kara rolled her eyes and leaned on the desk as she looked up at the screen.

Just looking at the Colonial marker and the Enemy points, she could envision it. She listened to Lee swear and roll, firing loudly and watched one red blip go out.

Another loud bang, and his voice filled the room with his damage call and assesment. His voice was tight and terse, mouth going but brain engaged elsewhere.

She knew the look on his face, mouth and forehead drawn in and his blue eyes focused sharply. Judging from the calls and reports, no one had noticed him out of formation.

She closed her eyes briefly and felt it.

Spinning, spinning. The alarms going off and monitors flashing. She could hear his breathing hitting and the squeak of the firing clutch and the gentle humming of his guns going full blast, her mind showing her his arms. The proximity alert would be going off, a red light that flashed in the corner of your right eye and let you know someone was in your blindspot. Kara's eyes snapped open and looked at the dradis. One Raider had dropped back and was circling to Lee's left while another led him right, opening the underside of his Viper up to fire from the other craft when he made the open winged turn. Her mouth dropped open as she saw what was going to happen seconds before it was put into motion.

Impulsively, she reached out and grabbed the com from its hook and brought it to her mouth.

"Apollo, Starbuck. Drop your wing. Drop your wing! LEE! DROP YOUR WING!" She yelled hoarsely into the mike, eyes zeroed on the Dradis screen and her blood thundering in her ears.

She heard him swear and grunt, and the sound of fire impacting his ship. There was a loud grind, the scraping of metal on metal and then an explosion of communications static before silence.

The Viper marker blipped out, the green between two red dots disappearing.

Kara and the Commander reacted in the same second. The Commander yelled his son's name into the mike, and Kara rounded on Gaeta.

"Find him!"

Gaeta looked bewildered and shocked, hands playing over his monitor's by themselves. He stammered and sweated, trying to figure out a way to locate their ship.

"I...the dradis would only lock out if destroyed, I don't..."

"I don't care! Find him! Find him now!" Kara snapped, hobbling over to the centers despite the white hot pain that bled up her leg. Her breath was coming in short gasps, and she all but pushed him out of the way, scanning the Viper status screens and bringing up Lee's ship.

The red of the file burned her eyes, and the shock took the pain of seeing 'OFFLINE' title beside his call sign and turned it into anger. She pointed to Tigh and growled.

"Get eyes on his final sight."

"The offending Raiders have jumped away." Gaeta reported tightly, eyes flicking from report to report. Tigh's eyebrows shot up and he wrenched his jaw with everything but a snarl.

"Don't you be giving me orders," He snapped and the Commander slammed his hand down on the table, roaring with a ferociousness that sent fear skittering through Kara's heart.

"Get me eyes on Apollo's final sight!"

Tigh picked up the mike, ordering flank support away from the offending fights and towards Lee's last coordinates. Adrenaline pulsed through Kara's brain and she began hitting buttons, doing everything she could to find any hint of his ship. All lines remained silent and negative for contact. Her hands shook uncontrollably, and her eyes focused narrowly as she flicked through information, looking for anything.

She scanned his power charts, and her eyes widened.

"Commander, he -," She started, but was interrupted by Gaeta shouting.

"Colonial Viper jumped in. Baring zero-zero-two carom zero-one-five."

"Authorize." The Old Man snapped over his shoulder and Dualla immediately pressed her headset closer against her ear and pressed buttons, murmuring into the headset for the colonial vessel to identify.

"No joy on last coordinates," Gaeta all but yipped, pressing buttons as a muscle in his jaw twitched in the dim light. Kara's eyes didn't leave Dualla's face as the woman talked, nodded and moved dials. She glanced up and gave a huge smile to the Old Man just as a voice filled the room with a gleeful whoop.

"Tally for Apollo on rear approach."

Kara's stomach nearly fell out, and she sucked a barely noticeable shuddering breath into her lungs through rigid lips as his marker lit his position. She couldn't help the smile of relief that tugged at her lips while her muscles slowly started to unlock and waves of relaxation seeped through her body. She noticed her hand shaking, and as she listened to him gabble about bingo fuel and she heard the gun chatter pound its way into the air through the speakers she resisted the urge to slump weakly against something.

It honestly didn't help her mood, and she crossed her arms to stop them from going to her face and rubbing at her temples. A scare like that shouldn't send her reeling like this, and now listening to him annihilating Cylons, she felt a small flicker of something she'd never experienced before.


She frowned and surreptitiously leaned her hip against the backlit directives map table, taking a sly glance at Tigh to make sure he wasn't aware of her weakness. She felt guilty that she underestimated his flying capabilities. Needing something to focus on, she watched the Dradis screen and followed his marker, listening to his exhilarated babbling.

She could seemingly feel the movement of the bird. The swoop in her stomach as the nose dipped and the press on the speed on her bones when she hit the bottom thrust and flipped around, listening to the guns and Lee's breathless voice pouring through the speakers. She knew the rush, the high. Becoming one with the ship until it felt like it was you yourself moving through the air and swopping. Your wings cutting through the icy black of space. She could feel the tingling in her fingers, tilting her head to the side slightly as her mind raced.

The tense clench of the hand around the clutch, mirroring the rigidity of the stomach muscles. Thighs seized and bulked under the weight of pulling the Gs while hurtling through space and the catch of air stuck gloriously in the back of her throat. The thrill, hot and sticky as it dripped through every cell of her being and ignited every single nerve, every single sense.

It made the skin on her back prickle against her tanks, and caused her nipples to tighten harshly underneath her bra.

The shock that echoed through her skull when something exploded into a harsh fiery ball of orange and red, only to be soothed in echoes of greens and blue that spiralled through her mind. The beeps of the machines, the steady breathing in her chest. The shake of her muscles, the need in her body and the passion in the bird. All of that channelled into the helpless nerves of her body, turning her into a tuning fork of destruction that rode the edge between agony and ecstasy.

Impulsive, insistent, and vigorous.

A rough and tumble ride full of clenching thighs and rough breathing, screaming and laughing while everything came to a fireworked crescendo finale of heavy raiders and chrome jobs exploding back to the blissful birthing tanks from whence they came.

Kara leaned against the counter as her body flared and vibrated insistently while the need flooded through her. It was like a drug, an aphrodisiac. An acceptable kink that turns into a way of life.

The adrenaline rush pounded everyone and usually resulted in the use of hands, each other or any other means of relaxation. Pilots have never been known for fidelity and prudishness.

Her muscles felt weak and keening, and she placed her hand flat on the table and pressed her chin to her chest to swallow thickly. Tigh's head swivelled to look at her, his beady little watery eyes wavering in an attempt to focus on her while his lips fluttered in an attempt to construct a sentence to utter.

"What's wrong with you?" He barked, nostrils flaring uncontrollably.

Kara grit her teeth and raised her razor-guarded eyes to his.

"My leg. Hurts."

He scoffed, rolling his head in an exaggeration that pretty much measured in fingers how much he'd drank before stumbling up to the CIC. The Commander's eyes were focused on the Dradis, papers and sitreps limply sifted through his fingers as he raised the comm head and barked return orders to the birds in the air.

Kara was still glaring at Tigh when Adama demanded a ready for FTL jumps.

His voice snapped her from her frozen mask of hate while she tried to compose herself.

"Starbuck. Go see to it we don't have any permanently bent birds. And send Captain Apollo to me."

"Sir," She replied automatically as she shakily stood straight and snapped off a salute. She resisted giving Tigh her best victory smirk, settling for a dismissive shrug at him before turning and doing her best to swagger out of the CIC.

Once in the hall she pressed the heel of her hand into her eye, partially to look tired and exasperated and partially to hide the dazed smile that bled onto her face like slow-drip honey.

Walking limply, she let out a long suffering sigh and flipped what little blond hair curtained her face back. Mentally she grappled, unable to jump down from her pit and strip her suit off with the confidence of a cat in heat.

Only that feeling could lend to the pure sex appeal everyone felt strutting across the deck in sweaty tanks and a slick flight suit making wet plastic sounds as it twisted around their ass and thighs while the arms hung limply off their hips.

That strut, and the playful shoving and cajoling generally got rid of the majority of the vibe. It was generally even better if she got to yell at some one. Maybe Chief was in a mood to take her yelling at him for a bit.

Cheered by this thought, she hitched her breath and continued her trek down the hall.

"Chief!" Kara roared, shoving unceremoniously past a gaggle of whooping pilots, a few who offered her something she didn't hear and others who gave her pitying looks. Unable to bring herself to care, she mentally catalogued them.

If she couldn't yell at someone here, she'd just follow them.

Being crippled had its benefits, one of them being she got to charge after people like a crotchety old man from Tauron, waving her cane and yelling. Not that she wouldn't do that anyways, it was just more fun when no one wanted to punch her right off the bat.

She liked riling people.

He was waving a Viper to full stop, papers plastered against his chest and customary unhappy expression fixed into place. She hobbled over to him, stopping and putting her hand on her hip authoritivly.


"Not now, Starbuck," he said shortly, the dismissive resignation in his voice stopping her short. She paused for a moment, digesting the fact that he just turned his back on her and waved her away like a pestering fly.

She sucked in her breath and was about to unleash eight kinds of hurt when a voice cut through the air.

"No, no. There's just damage under...yeah. No. It missed."

The Chief was ducking under the Viper, yelling about hulls and metal and patching while other knuckle-draggers skirted around the rear, dragging maintenance pipes, hoses and kits. Lee emerged from the cockpit, hopping over the sill and ambling down to the deck as languidly as his victory-stoned body would allow him. He had the self-satisfied smile of a cat on his face as he unbuckled, unbelted and unzipped himself, baring his muscular chest under his tanks and letting the suit pool around his hard, narrow hips.

He didn't appear to see her, frozen in her build-up and caught by his body.

The flight high radiated off of him from the bowlegged gait to the easy smile. His skin was flushed and his heady blue eyes sparkled and looked slightly disjointed. His hands shook, but only enough that she would notice and his voice seemed to carry with a certain note of good-natured cheer.

Tyrol was losing his mind over something and she watched Lee duck under a wing and crabwalk himself under the Viper to make some excuses and check out the damage himself.

He scuttled around under there, bent and giving her a great view of his butt. A little known fact about Kara Thrace is that she was a shameless voyeur. And when a rear like Lee Adama's was on display, she wasn't going to get all cute and blushy.

She felt her skin crawl deliciously and huffed, looking briefly upwards towards the ceiling while she tried to pull herself together. When she looked back, he spotted her and popped up from under the bird, skirting around the wing and making his way over to her.

"Kara, I need to..."

"You need to come with me to the Ready Room and get your spreads and then report to the Old Man," she cut him off shortly, disguising the urge to touch him as she looked down his body disdainfully, seemingly daring him to touch her. Lee Adama had no concept of space, and he stopped within inches of her.

He looked at her steadily for a moment before sighing, and a muscle in his jaw clenched. Talking about his idiocy would ruin the way her body was singing, calling his deliciously. She gave him a flat look and turned on her heel, marching out of the hangar with as much oomph as her knee would allow. She knew he would follow her, silently fuming and trying to plot a way into cornering her and sharing their feelings. Lee was a woman like that.

He didn't say anything as he followed her through the halls, their footsteps echoing in tandem and his breathing still skittering from the flight and landing. Kara's nerves still hummed like a fully charged battery and she resisted stopping and leaning against a wall with her rump up for him.

There was no one in the Ready Room when they got there, much to her pleasure. Lee strode past her, brushing her shoulder with his chest as they both stepped through the jam at the same time. He walked away, already set on finding his paperwork, while she surreptitiously dogged the hatch.

He was bent over the prep podium, one hand errantly sifting through his brown hair and the other flipping through lists, diagrams, fact sheets and reports. Kara's eyes fell from his wide shoulders and the muscles bunched on his arms, down the steep drop of his back and narrow waist sitting on his tight little butt. Perfectly muscular thighs flared from his hips and trailed down into thick calves.

She ignored the fact that Lee had the same thighs as his brother, and she knew for a fact what they could do.

His head jerked up as if he could feel her watching him, and she could tell by the flash of his steely eyes that he was now mad at her.

"Why won't you accept that I need to thank you for saving my life?" He demanded, lips pursing. Kara smirked, approaching him slowly. She studied him, head canted to the side as her mind illustrated all the dirty things she'd wanted to do to him on this very podium.

"I didn't. You saved your own life, for once."

"I would have died if you hadn't picked up the horn."

"I wouldn't have picked up the horn if you weren't stupid enough to do things only suicidal rooks do." She said tightly, invading his personal space. He was so warm, so alive. He was so preoccupied with being mad at her, she had him at a complete disadvantage.

No one says no to Kara Thrace.

"I got carried away. You know how it is. You chase, you follow, you fall, you fire..."

"You mark, you tally, you win. Don't quote to me," She said quietly, reminded of the soul-screaming fear that seeing his marker fall off the board had inspired. He was in front of her, all alive and angry and very very flushed.

He was following her with his eyes, a small part of him now awakening to the fact that he was being stalked.

"I just wanted to thank you." He repeated steadily.

She knew what flying with him was like. He mirrored her flying like he was part of her. She did the crazy stuff, he executed the textbook moves perfectly. She tilted, he tilted. When she flew without him, she felt alone. Singular. The weight of the human race rested on her, and when she flew with him behind her, she felt they could do it.

Together, they could fight their way free of the Cylons.

The rush, the adrenaline coursed through her veins again and she looked him dead in the eye.

"You were so stupid, Lee. I thought we had lost you. So stupid, I could kill you. But you took down so many of them. Do you even know what your count was?"

"Kara," He started, but was cut off.

She was on him in seconds, hands fisted in his tanks tightly. His eyes were getting better at lying, because with the way he was kissing her back, he was expecting her attack. His hands went to her waist, carefully moulding against the curve and she pulled his lower lip between her teeth gently. He broke away, trying to get a look at her face but she snared him again, going up on her tip toes and catching his lips gently, coaxing him back to her. Like a switch had been flipped, his hands bunched her uniform at the waist and he kissed her back, opening his mouth and invading hers with his tongue.

Kara fought back with her own, fencing and ducking and twisting.

Her hands grasped the side of his face, holding him to her as she pressed herself closer against him.

His hands wandered, one ghosting up her back and one falling to her rear, grasping and squeezing one cheek firmly. Kara wiggled her hips, a wet fire spilling into her abdomen loudly demanding to be satisfied. She gasped into his mouth, sucking his tongue gently and then dragging her teeth up the sides as he breathed heavily. She pushed him, and the telltale thunk of the podium sounded as he stumbled back against it and she took her time kissing along his jaw, leaving an open mouth trail of fire up to his ear. She stopped breathing, holding it long enough to trace the tip of her tongue up the shell of his ear and then dip it in his ear.

He shuddered violently, gasping quietly. She took the lobe of his ear into her mouth, tugging on it gently while she breathed and barely whispered his name. His hand clapped over her ass and she jumped, biting his neck hard when he chuckled raspily and forced her overcoat open.

She heard a button clatter and bounce away, disappearing into the depths of the room to most likely be found by a suspicious pilot who would probably then notice Kara was missing one. She didn't care at that moment, letting her hand fall to cup and gently squeeze the press at the front of his suit. Lee grunted, his tongue tracing wild circles and bows down the tendons of her neck while she tilted it to the side. He sealed his mouth over her skin and created a vacuum, and Kara's eyes fluttered and a moan slipped through her lips at the feeling.

Suddenly she realized what he was doing and barked his name, even as he smiled and clamped down on her hips with his hands to keep her in place while she struggled. Wrenching away, she stumbled back breathing heavily. Lee leaned against the podium, lanky and reclined while he looked at her with victorious hooded eyes. Her hand went to her neck and she felt the wet mark and the tender flesh and she flinched before glaring sparks at him.

He grinned, a predatorily smirk that she'd never seen before.

She wanted to hit him, even as she stalked up to him and sunk her hand into his hair, wrenching his head down to hers and possessing his mouth.

He smiled into her mouth and she angrily pulled the knot holding his suit on him free and the curve of his lips fell away, even as she pushed her hands under his tanks and jerked them up, exposing his skin to her roaming eyes. His stomach muscles clenched and danced underneath her fingertips, and she splayed them, enjoying the heat of his skin and the way his lips fell open slightly as he studied her face and the way she concentrated as she flicked the pad of her thumb over his nipple and scratched waves and circles over his collarbones and shoulders and down his arms. Goosebumps erupted all over him, and Kara smirked, catching his eye as she bent her head forwards and traced a wide, spiraling circle around one nipple, ending it with a nip. She straightened, stepping close and matching her pelvis against his. His pupils dilated as he met her stare. Kara grinned cheekily, hand sliding down his torso and gripping him with confidence. Lee slit his eyes at her as she moved it suggestively, giving him a good squeeze. He pitched forwards and kissed her deeply, his tongue flicking deliciously against the roof of her mouth as his hands worked her free of her coat and her tanks, dropping them to the floor in a mess around their feet.

She felt the situation slip as he ripped her bra free over her arms and roughly pulled her against him so their stomaches touched and the hot skin burned pleasantly. They were slipping into a haze of mouths and moans, and she was all too willing to allow herself to fall prey to him. She was very willing to let him rip her pants down and shred her underwear free, bend her over something and hoist her up to his waist level and plough into her with the grace and care of a dog, while she clutched at anything she could reach and let her feet dangle inches off the floor.

It was a very appealing image, and as he melded his mouth to hers and his hands drifted down, she wanted nothing to feel his fingers delving into her.

Kara ripped away, shoving him back against the podium as she stumbled a bit and wiped at her mouth and shook her head. She wanted the overwhelming need that her body emanated to slow down for a second. She needed to think. She needed the control back.

"You know what, Adama? You do owe me," Kara decided out loud, idly wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, strutting around in front of the podium so the seats rose up behind her. Lee turned around, leaning over the podium and following her with hooded eyes and a kiss stung mouth.

"So what are you going to do? Torture me?"

Kara laughed, using the malignance in it to give her time to think and give him time to anticipate. If there was anything about her that drove him nuts, she knew it was that she could make him deliciously anticipate having his nails ripped off, as long as it was her doing it to him. It was all over his face, and she plopped down in the seat she'd sulked in earlier that morning while he gave the prep speech and routine lecture to everyone but her. Of course, that morning he'd been studiously ignoring her (probably to avoid hurting her widdle feelings) and now that she was sitting there in pants and boots, arms crossed under her bare and perky breasts, she had his full starry eyed attention.

"Oh, it's not what I'll be doing for you. Tell me. How many times did you look at me this morning?"

He blinked and shook his head, even as she bit her lip and watched him expectantly.

"What? Kara, why -, I don't know. I was busy...,"

"You were busy ignoring me. Poor Starbuck, can't fly a Viper. Poor Starbuck, can't even run basics in a frakkin' Raptor. Poor Starbuck, blah blah blah." She ranted, waving her hand dismissively, rolling her head lazily and then stopping it so she could look at him with her face tilted down, accentuating the man-eating smirk.

"I'm over it, Lee. But that lecture was weak. Pitiful, even. There was no emotion. None. Wanna know why? Because it wasn't a speech for me. You knew I'd be sitting in the CIC, contemplating the ramifications of eating my gun."

"Ramifications. Big word." Lee commented blithely. Kara smiled and gently let her fingers play over her collarbones, caressing them gently, sucking on a lip as she tilted her head to the side and let it circle and wave itself gently over the flesh of her chest, ghosting over the tips of her nipples. She could have sworn she saw his eyes dilate from a couple feet away.

Ungracefully, she pried herself up and ignored her leg as she pranced around him, aware of how her breasts bounced and moved and how his eyes seemed trained on them. She went over and snatched up his morning notes and the outline for the speech. Facing him, she laughed to herself and sauntered over to him, plastering them down on the podium. He loomed over her and she pressed her naked chest against his, cold flesh meeting hot.

She rose up on her tip toes and ghosted a kiss over his lips before he could respond, letting the tip of her tongue swipe his lower lip.

"You're gonna do the morning prep again, Captain. Word for word, like the room is full of eager, trusting pilots." Kara practically moaned, letting her hands roam and work on his suit. He glared down at her as imperviously as he could muster.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because. You? You're putty in my very capable," she pulled the suit open and wrestled into his briefs, tugging him expertly and causing a noise to slip through his lips, "hands."

"And if I refuse to do this for you?"

"You won't."


"Because I saved your life. Start inspiring, Apollo." Kara snarked, turning him so her back was against the podium and his hands braced the edges like he normally stood. He gulped thickly as his suit fell free and tangled itself around his calves.

Looking into her eyes, his jaw twitched angrily and he wrenched his mouth open.

"Goodmorning, ladies. Have a seat."

"Not to me, silly. The room is full of pilots. Look at them. Imagine them all there, waiting breathlessly, already pumped to kick some toaster ass." Kara lectured, biting his collarbones gently and sliding down his body, her tongue leaving burning wet spirals and tails over the panes of muscles stacked down his torso. Lee shuddered as her blond head dissapeared beneath the podium, and she smirked up at him as she settled down there.

He felt a gust of hot air, and his muscles shivered in anticipation. Lee licked his lips, crotch throbbing hotly already with the knowledge that her mouth was inches away from him.

"Kara, I can't do this."

"Imagine them in their underwear." She stage whispered, and the humor was lost on him as she took him deeply into her mouth. Lee grunted, biting his lip and breathing as his eyes slid shut and he fought the urge to jut his hips. She swirled her tongue, wiggling it up the underside of his shaft and letting him pop free.

"Tick tock, Captain."

"Ladies and gents, we've got a lot to do today. Rotation schedule and CAP schedule has been changed. We're missing -ah- four pilots today, due to injuries." He managed to get out, not even able to focus on his notes. Her mouth was hot and wet around him, pulling and tugging with her lips. It felt amazing, and his mouth was dry as she worked on him without a care in the world. His legs were locked even though the muscles in his thighs tightened like a coil and threatened to shake violently.

"I'm going to address the lack of pilots in our formation. Our formations are sloppy, even with a full set. We need to close up our wings, bring the forefront up tighter. More of a peak, less of a hump, people." He lectured, focusing on his notes. They seemed foreign and useless, written in man-scribble he couldn't decipher while pleasure crawled up his back and Kara's tongue circled his head and tickled the underside wonderfully. A slap to his bare thigh and he groaned and tried to dredge up the words.

"Without Starbuck flying today," He groaned out loud as her hand cupped his balls and gently massaged them together. His legs shook warningly and he clenched the sides of the podium with sweaty hands. "We're going to go with a break and scatter formation, everyone on their wingman and providing assistance in couples of threes and fours."

Kara chuckled and the vibrations in her throat made his eyes roll into the back of his head and his hips thrust slightly.

"And. Uh. You need to watch where you're firing. Chuckles, you especially. The tops of the Raiders are armoured. Don't waste your, ah, time there."

He glanced down at her blond head, bobbing enthusiastically and licked his lips again. His body was shaking, humming like an engine revving, and he'd never had such a strong reaction like this before. He desperately tried to focus on the speech, drawing it out longer. He couldn't end up like he did with Mira Landers in the guest bathroom at his parent's house before his voyage to Picon for basic.

"And that's pretty much all the lecturing I have to do today. I do have to say though, you all need to be careful. We've been losing too many, and having too many come back battered." He said shakily, deliciously fiery pleasure pooling in his abdomen. He could picture her there in front of him, slouched in that chair with that characteristic smirk on her face and her breasts bare for him to see. It would be an image that haunted his eyes for a very long time, and as he gnawed on his lip in an attempt to keep from making any noise, he attempted to look at his notes again.

"We, uh, we are the protection. We all know there is nothing coming between the remainder of our race - gods Kara - and the Cylons if we don't get up every day and lay our lives on the line. We're the protection, we're the reason, ah, that humans persevere. We're the - frak - wall, the division, the shield. Because of that, none of you need to get hurt. We need you all to return home, to bring in pieces of toasters and keep doing your jobs. So, go out there and - oh gods - show them what we are. We're humans, and on top of that we're pilots!" He moaned hoarsely as his body started to shudder. It was all pooling too quickly, the tightness in his balls raising too much, and his brain was all too happy to ride it.

He looked down and saw her smirk, lips tightening around him as she used her hand to assist her mouth while it cleverly coaxed him higher and higher. Lee gripped the podium deliriously, gasping roughly as his hips started to rock slowly while he desperately tried to ride to the edge.

"Show them...," He gasped as electrical bubbles flooded down his back and a blackness seeped from the back of his brain, "show them what they have to live up to!". Lee dropped his chin to his chest as he succumbed to the flood, riding over the hump with a loud groan and shaking legs. The podium creaked as it pulled at the floor, bending to the sway of his body while he clutched the note top for dear life.

Kara welcomed the release, feeling him explode in her mouth and the raking shudders and spasms to roiled him from head to toe.

As he gasped gently, nearly collapsing against the podium, she edged out from crouching at his feet and scooped up her tanks, donning them in a well-practised motion. Lee leaned against the podium, breathing harshly and steadying his trembling limbs. He glanced up at her as she picked up her bra and slyly stuffed it in her pocket.

Kara grinned, cheekily wiping a bead of white fluid on her lip and folding her overcoat over her forearm.

"Good hunting," She finished the speech, flashing him a single-eyebrow raise and turning her back as she wandered to the hatch. It clanked as it was unlocked and Kara paused on her way out.

"Oh, yeah. The Old Man really did want to see you. You might need clothes for that."

Then she was gone, the door screaming and banging as it shut behind her. He could picture her swaggering down the hall, limping every fourth step. She knew damn well that she had sullied him, damaging the authority and power he had at this podium.

Now every time he stood at this podium, he would picture her lounging in the seat in front of him, or on her knees before him.

And he knew that was exactly what she intended. Pulling up his suit, he smiled and shook his head.

Lee Adama was having a good day.