tellitslant: agatha making a shushing gesture (bsg - cain and kara - drink)
[personal profile] tellitslant
Title: Moment of Doubt and Pain
Author: [livejournal.com profile] tellitslant
Fandom: BSG 2003
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kara/Cain
Spoilers: 2.11
Disclaimer: Ron Moore, not me.
Summary: Missing scene. Kara experiences a transfer of allegiances.

**

"I think that's the best idea I've heard all day, sir."

The predatory gleam in Thrace's eyes amused Cain, and impressed her too. She turned back to the display on her cabin wall and pretended to consider the pictures there; her attention was focused instead on discretely judging the feel of the room and the officer behind her. She knew there was a battle being waged within Thrace's mind - this one was loyal, and fierce with it. Cain certainly hadn't missed the depth of the affection that ran between Thrace and the Galactica crew.

Still, her pot was sweeter - and any pilot with the brass balls Thrace had displayed deserved a better, stronger commander than the stodgy old man, and probably knew it too. And one thing Cain had never had a problem with was inspiring... loyalty.

Weighing her moment, she turned, a carefully calculated smile on her face. Thrace had been studying her, she knew. She judged her movements precisely as she stalked across the floor and stopped slightly, just slightly, inside Thrace's comfort zone.

"So," she said softly. "I've got you, and you've got command of the best frakking Viper squadron in the known universe, and together we're going to take back our homes. We both got what we wanted this time, isn't that right?" Thrace's head dipped in a small nod. Not good enough, Cain decided.

"Isn't that right, Captain," she snapped out, noting with pleasure the abrupt stiffening of Thrace's spine.

"Yes, sir. That is correct, sir," Thrace barked, a flicker of spirit colouring her response.

"Good," Cain almost purred, holding Thrace's gaze. "Now, I want you to know how much I value my officers. Your thoughts and plans are very important to me, and I want you to feel free to come to me at any time. And I want to be sure that everyone under my command is happy with their lot."

Of course, Cain was lying through her teeth. Pursuit of happiness, in her opinion, distracted from the ultimate goal, whatever it was at any given time. She needed Thrace's support, though, and she could spare a little time to bring her along. It certainly wasn't a hardship.

She placed a comradely hand on Thrace's shoulder, feeling the rigidity of the muscles beneath the rough cloth. "While we're on the subject, then, Captain," she continued, "is there anything else you want? Right now, at this moment, is there anything I can do for you?"

"No, sir," Thrace replied immediately. Good; she could be trained. Cain placed a high value on submission.

"No, hm? How lovely. What a selfless officer. Always ready to sacrifice herself for others, in the heat of battle or elsewhere, I'm sure." Cain smiled thinly. Her hand flexed on Thrace's shoulder.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Thrace asked, a little breathlessly.

"Permission denied," Cain hissed. She slid her hand up the back of Thrace's neck and into her hair, freeing it from its hairband. Grabbing a fistful of the crumpled strands, she pressed her mouth to Thrace's.

It almost surprised her how easily Thrace responded, opening her mouth under Cain's advance. She had expected more defiance, more spirit. No matter. There would be time for that later.

She snaked her other hand around to the small of Thrace's back and brought their bodies flush together. Breaking the kiss, she walked Thrace backwards until she was leaning against Cain's desk.

Thrace's pupils were dilated and her cheeks were flushed, but she kept her mouth shut. Cain could feel her own heart pumping as she began to undo the buttons on Thrace's uniform. "Good," she whispered, "good," as she spread the lapels and began tracing her fingertips over Thrace's breasts and stomach.

Thrace reached out, one hand seeking the buttons on Cain's uniform. Without even looking, Cain slapped it away harshly, her blow raising a stinging red welt on Thrace's flesh. She grabbed Thrace's chin and glared at her. "You don't do anything until I say it's all right," she growled. Releasing Thrace with a rough twist, she returned to her explorations.

She curled her fingers under the hem of Thrace's undershirts, easing them up slowly. Her fingertips ghosted over every inch of skin she revealed. She traced the scars on Thrace's abdomen carefully, but did not bother asking for the story behind them. Instead, she moved on, thumbing the undersides of Thrace's breasts, cupping them in her hands and feeling the nipples harden against her palms.

Thrace's muscles quivered, and she whimpered from time to time, but she stayed in place and returned Cain's kisses with vigour.

"Mmmm," Cain breathed against Thrace's lips. "You're going to do very well on my ship. I know it." She snapped open the fastenings on Thrace's pants and dragged her hand along bare skin.

Thrace was wet and ready, and Cain didn't take time for niceties. She slid two fingers in rapidly, and Thrace cried out. "Good," Cain repeated, and added another finger.

Bracing her thigh between Thrace's, she grabbed Thrace's shoulder again, forcing her to focus on Cain's face. "Galactica would have been destroyed if we hadn't found her," Cain said, as matter-of-factly as if she were having this discussion in CIC and not with her thumb rolling across Thrace's clit. "Frakking Cylons could have picked you off any time. Damned if I know why they didn't." She ground against Thrace's body. "But here we are, your saviours, ready to keep you from collapsing into despair. I have to admit, it hasn't been quite the welcome I was hoping for." Thrace moaned, sweat trickling down her forehead.

Cain's hair was hanging in her eyes. She shook it back, exposing a long, white stretch of throat. "But you, Kara Thrace. You've already proven your worth. You're a cut above than that half-assed joke of a battlestar you've been running with. You deserve more. You deserve better. And I'm going to give it to you." She tightened her grip on Thrace's shoulder, feeling her nails bite into flesh. "I'm going to give you everything, Kara Thrace. I want to. And I get what I want."

Thrace shuddered and cried out as she came, slumping against Cain.

Cain removed her hand from Thrace's pants and held her fingers up, waiting wordlessly. Thrace lifted her hand up slowly, uncertain, and grasped Cain's wrist. When Cain didn't react, she brought Cain's hand to her mouth. Her tongue swirled around Cain's fingertips and lapped at the webbing between her fingers, cleaning away Thrace's own juices. When Cain was satisfied, she caught Thrace's mouth again in a bruising kiss.

Finally, Cain stepped out of the embrace, away from Thrace, and straightened her uniform. She strolled back to the Cylon ship on display, her back to Thrace. "I suggest you start planning your squadron, Captain," she said coolly, not bothering to turn around. "Dismissed."

Cain nibbled absently on a fingernail as she heard the door shut behind her. Yes, Thrace would make a fine officer for what she had in mind. She returned her full attention to the Cylon puzzle before her.

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