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A Good Deal In the Way

Title: A Good Deal in the Way
Author: gidget_zb 
Beta: alias424 
Rating:
M
Summary: Girl is accosted by boy. Girl kicks boy in the junk. Other boy rescues girl, even though girl does not technically need it. Happiness ensues.

A/N: So this is my request fic for Vicki who awesomely asked for anything, about anyone - thus making her my favorite person ever in life. So, selfishly, I decided to use this opportunity to write down just how my Outside of the Garden verse Laura and Bill met. Aww, those crazy kids. Hopefully you'll enjoy it Vicki!

A Good Deal in the Way

She had had worse days, she knew. More stressful days, more traumatic days, even more tragic days – but at the moment she couldn’t think of one. She couldn’t think of anything beyond the hissing anger bubbling just below her skin – liable to spit out on anyone in her vicinity if she so much as opened her mouth. Richard Adar was a frakking fraktard.

Years. The rage boiled just below the surface as the word seared into her brain, burning blacker and blacker as she contemplated just how many years she had wasted on the man. He was a self-involved, self-serving, self–

“Laura, you look like you could spit nails. Careful.” The soft voice was friendly in tone, and Wally Gray looked at her with sympathy even as he pressed the glass of ambrosia into her hand. “You look like you could use this.”

She sighed – trying to expel the rage and irritation with it but to no avail. “Thank you, Wally.” She drank it in less than three swallows, and he watched her with growing concern lighting his grey eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. You look like if you had a sharp instrument anywhere near you, you’d be over there stabbing the President.” He was so serious, it was a bit difficult not to laugh out loud while immensely enjoying the mental picture he had provided.

“I can’t. I’d stain this dress, and it’s worth more than Richard Adar’s life.” Wally chuckled at her response before nodding to a waiter, who brought them two more drinks. She took hers gladly, drinking it only marginally slower than the first.

“And it shows.” Wally smiled in approval, friendship warming his eyes, with just a hint of desire, and she sighed inwardly. Always the married men – it was her curse, apparently.

“Where’s Liz?” she finally asked, and he nodded across the room to his glowing wife, looking radiant as she spoke with some of the other wives.

“She’s the one who sent me over – said you looked madder than a wet cat, whatever that means.” Laura laughed softly, hearing Liz say the words in her head as he spoke them.

“Well, she’s right – but I’ll be fine, Wally. It was bound to end badly, right? I mean he’s married. And I knew that. I swear – ” Her words began to soften and blur slightly even as she placed her empty glass on a waiter’s tray and snagged a glass of champagne before he could disappear into the crowd, “No more married men. Ever. In life. I don’t care if I have to go join a temple and devote my life to Hera – ”

“Hard to picture,” Wally chuckled, still nursing his own drink.

“Still. I am a grown woman, and I can handle this without killing my boss or resigning.”

“Maybe – Laura, maybe you should. Resign I mean – wouldn’t you be happier? Go back to teaching – get away from all this political back-talk?” From any other man, the question would have seemed rude. But she had known Wallace Gray for almost twenty years – had set him up with his wife, had confided in him when no one else was around – he and Liz had both been there when her mother had died, had seen her at her very worst. The truth was, she had complained about the nature of politics to both of them, more than once. The truth was, he was probably right and she would be happier back in a classroom – as far away from Richard the frakwit Adar as possible. But that would mean he had won. And she was so nowhere near ready to concede defeat.

She remained silent, attempting to think of a way to say that without making it sound as petty and juvenile as it really was, but she couldn’t come up with anything, so she sipped her champagne a bit slower and opted for no response at all. Wally just nodded in understanding after a moment and pressed a hand to the small of her back. “Be careful, Laura.” It was a whisper, a warning, the concern of a friend, and she nodded but didn’t turn to watch him leave. Instead, her eyes wandered over the ballroom, taking in the mixture of people before her, some she knew – most she didn’t.

After all, Secretaries of Education weren’t usually required to attend military events – even if it was on the occasion of several soldiers receiving the Medal of Honour, awarded by the Quorum after a mining disaster on Tauron. Five of the recipients were dead – only three were alive to receive it. However, all of that was neither here nor there, because Laura wasn’t here to represent her department. She was here because she had had the nerve to break off her long time affair with Richard – and as such, he had commanded her presence, simply because he could and he knew it would irritate the frak out of her.

“Mother frakker,” she mumbled, as her eyes wandered the room at will, scanning over men in black tie, and even more in dress greys. Women were adorned in a rainbow of colours, from white to black and every colour in between. All in all, it was crowded, too hot and she had a mental countdown on – seconds ticking by until she could finally leave without appearing rude. “Forty-five minutes. Forty-five minutes – come on, Laura.” She chanted the whisper under her breath, ignoring any officers who looked her way, lest they think she needed company. “Frak this.”

She moved over to the terrace doors swiftly, stepping out into the Caprican air with a grateful sigh, and felt relieved when the cool air seemed to make her head spin a bit less. “Shouldn’t have had the ambrosia. Stupid, Laura, stupid!” She ran her hands through her hair and leaned against the railing as she concentrated on breathing.

“You look lovely this evening, Laura. Dressed to impress?” She felt a jolt of nausea at his words and closed her eyes, wishing for a moment that her over-active imagination had somehow just made her think she had heard him. “Laura?” Frak.

“Go away, Richard. Your wife will be missing you.” His hand slid across her bare shoulder blades as he stepped up beside her, and she sidled away from his reach, her skin crawling. It hadn’t been so long ago when she would have welcomed this moment. But that had been before – before she had realised she was wasting her life, before she had dreamt of her future and woken up with clarity and a burning need to change.

“Oh come on now, Laura. You and I both know she doesn’t give a frak what I do.”

“How coincidental – neither do I. Just do it away from me, please.” She breathed the words out evenly, managing to keep most of her malice out of her voice.

“You wound me.” His voice was insincere, and she rolled her eyes before draining the remaining contents of her champagne and setting the empty glass on the railing. Just as quickly a full one was put in its place. “Allow me.”

She snorted, not really wanting to accept anything from the man beside her (a pay check was more than bad enough), but alcohol was definitely needed and she lifted it, draining its contents in three swallows as well. “Unless you’ve somehow drugged it, Richard – I’d just like to point out there isn’t enough liquor in all the worlds.”

“Where did we go wrong, Laura?” His plea was petulant, and she sighed heavily, not bothering to disguise her irritation.

“We never went right, Richard. You’re married to your career and your actual wife – and I... am finding myself unable to accept third place. I just woke up one morning and realized I don’t like who I am anymore. Time for a change.” She spoke simply, no emotion at all coloring her voice, and his fingers lightly stroking down her arm made her shift five inches farther to the left.

“Don’t pretend you don’t care about me Laura – love me. I know, I was there.” His whisper carried on the warm night air and she shook her head in automatic rejection of his words. They had shared a bed. Common interests. An office space. But never love.

“I don’t love you, Richard – I’m more intelligent than that. And so are you, so stop playing these childish games and move on. It’s over.” He inched closer and she moved again, only to find her progress halted by one of the pillars supporting the balcony one floor above them. Trapped now between the pillar and the railing, she turned an irritated glare on him as she crossed her arms and fought a wave of dizziness. How many drinks had she had? Four? Four – but how long had she taken to drink them?

“You can’t leave me, Laura.” His voice seemed harder than before, less soft persuasion and more stone wall now, and she blinked as the light behind him swam before her. Frak. “I don’t like to lose.”

“Well, you don’t get to, so there. Go away.” She pushed at him ineffectually, tripping slightly and looking down at her shoes with accusation. Red high heels, undoubtedly amazing-looking, but hellishly uncomfortable. She stared for a moment, frowning in thought before shrugging and kicking them off.

“I don’t get to lose?” He was laughing now, and she glared at him all the harder – but it seemed to have no effect. “How much did you drink?”

“Win,” she corrected him simply. “Move.”

“What?”

“Go away. Move on. Vamoose!” She waved her hands to emphasize her point and laughed slightly at his confused expression. “Oh Gods, listen: I am not, now or ever, going to frak you – for any reason. Go.” She spoke slowly and clearly, or perhaps more slowly than clearly, but either way his face darkened and he leaned closer.

“For Gods’ sake Laura, shhh! Anyone can hear you!” She laughed at that – her giggles clear and high as she leaned back against the cool marble for support.

“Oh yes, and that would be awful, wouldn’t it? Can’t have the world knowing Richard Adar is a womanizing self-important prick who has inadequacy issues!” She laughed harder, because she knew she wasn’t being quiet at all – but as his fingers wrapped around her arm, tight enough to hurt, she glared at him in a moment of rare sobriety. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

“Laura if you think – ”

“I believe the lady asked you to let go.” A gravelly voice broke over Richard’s, and Laura blinked, trying to see where it was coming from to no avail. It was deep, but soft – quiet almost, but laced with a taut warning. “I’d take her advice and walk away.” Richard’s grip didn’t ease in the slightest – if anything, his hand tightened as he looked around for the source of the intrusion. Laura shrugged, using the opportunity to lift her knee sharply – her aim was just two inches off, but close enough to startle Richard and cause him to step away from her with a gasp.

“Laura!” He straightened up, leaving her leaning on the pillar with her hand covering where his had been, as if her touch could erase his. “Fine, have it your way – but you’ll regret this.”

“The only thing I regret, Richard, is not doing this years ago.” He narrowed his eyes before walking away with a huff, and she was almost relieved to see his gait was unsteady – perhaps she wasn’t the only one overindulging this evening. At least that meant the whole scene could be excused under the guise of alcohol, and forgotten – hopefully without mention.

“Are you all right?” The gravelly voice spoke, much closer this time, and she blinked, looking to its source and finally seeing the man it had originated from – a soldier. She smiled, not surprised at all, as her eyes catalogued every inch of him. Not too much taller than she was – or had been in her shoes, at any rate – with a large barrel chest covered nicely by a dress uniform. His hands were folded in front of him, and he was watching her just as intently. His hair was short, cut close to his skull in a military fashion, and his face was almost stern, marked by his years and would have been almost frightening if not for his eyes. His eyes... oh, his eyes were a bright blue, in contrast to his darker skin tone and hair – bright blue and watching her with concern, and a bit of interest. She smiled to herself, straightening up and smoothing the long skirt of her formal dress.

“Thank you, I’m fine.” She answered his question five minutes too late, and he chuckled, a smile crossing his face for a brief moment – too brief – and transforming his face in the process. She laughed softly, warmth spreading through her as her heart rate increased slightly. Get a grip, Laura. Surely you’re not reacting this way five seconds after meeting the man?

She pushed herself upright, her shove a bit too hard for her feet to handle and she swayed dangerously, tilting forward with an indrawn breath. His hands reached out, catching her mid-trip, and she laughed at her stupidity. “Oh Gods, I am so sorry, thank you, Mr... uh….” She found herself staring at his collar blankly, knowing that the insignia there meant something, but frakked if she knew what it was. Her eyes slid down and she saw several medals on his sash, along with a pair of wings. “You’re a pilot!” she announced to him abruptly, and he chuckled, the sound warm and inviting and causing that earlier warmth to seep just a bit lower.

“Well, I was – a long time ago.” He straightened her, leaving one gloved hand on her elbow, just in case, she assumed. His other hand he held out for her to take. “Commander Bill Adama.” She smiled, her fingers sliding into his as she stared into his eyes. The noise from the ballroom seemed to slide away, and she wasn’t sure if it was the ambrosia, the champagne or both – but she felt like she needed to concentrate on this moment, remember it. Something was changing even as his fingers curled around hers and she shook his hand.

“Laura Roslin. Uh – I’m a bit embarrassed to admit this in my current state – but I’m Secretary of Education.” She blushed, cursing herself inwardly for drinking when she knew full well she could never handle it. She drank lightly, socially – half a glass of wine she nursed all evening, never more than that unless she was asking for trouble.

“It’s nice to meet you, Laura.” His voice washed over her, rough yet soothing, and she shivered at the sensation of her name wrapped in his deep tones. “Are you cold?”

“No,” she responded dreamily, still staring up at him from her barefooted position. “Except I should go. My forty-five minutes are up, thank the Gods.”

His laughter was rich, flowing freely around her, and she grinned in response as he leaned closer. “Mine too.”

“Your what?” she questioned in confusion, and he laughed harder.

“Forty-five minutes before you can respectably escape, right?”

“Oh my Gods yes, except I think the respectable bit of it is out of the question for me.” She frowned down at her feet, seeing her toes peeking out from under the hem of her red dress. “Have you seen my shoes?”

“They’re right behind you,” he pointed out calmly, and she smiled her gratitude, turning to pick them up and nearly falling over in the process, saved only by his strong grip on her waist. She collapsed in laughter, making matters worse by dropping all of her weight into his hold, but he kept them both upright as she attempted to pick up her shoes, succeeding on the fourth try.

“Got them!” She stood up far too quickly, darkness seeping into the edges of her vision as she stood and put her free hand to her head. “Whoa.”

“Come on, why don’t  I walk you around to the front – I can drive you home, or put you in a cab, if you’d like.” He was wrapping an arm around her waist and walking her off the veranda as he spoke, and she giggled at the sensation of the dew in the grass, wetting her feet.

“Why Commander, my mother told me never to accept rides from strangers – I wouldn’t know that cab driver’s name. It’ll have to be you.” She giggled again, dimly aware she was flirting rather shamelessly with this man she barely knew – but frak it all, when was the last time she had done that? Forever ago, it seemed. And he didn’t really seem to mind as he chuckled and led her around the large building toward the car park in front.

She slid to a halt at the gravel driveway, frowning in disdain at the sharp stones and looking down at her shoes with distaste. Her four inch heels stared back, unaffected. “Frak.”

“Pardon?” He turned, his arm sliding along her waistline when he moved to keep going before realizing she was no longer following. He looked from her feet to her frown, and back down to the gravel. “Oh, I see. Need a lift?”

“I can’t.” She was laughing even as she offered a token protest. “That would look horrible. I am a member of government!” She whispered the last part, possibly very loudly, and he chuckled again.

“I won’t tell, if you don’t.” He spoke in a conspiratorial tone and she took a long moment to look around the darkened parking lot. Once she was satisfied no one was there, she shrugged and held up her arms, shoes dangling from one hand, and he bent, sliding his arm under her knees and lifting her effortlessly.

“Well, this is impressive. Did you plan this?” She was still giggling – seemingly unable to stop – and he looked at her in disbelief.

“Yes. I absolutely planned this – right down to your refusal to put your own shoes back on.” He glanced down at the shoes in question and raised a brow back in her direction. “Although perhaps that’s for the best, those things look painful.”

“Yes. But pretty. Much like myself. The painful part, I mean.”

“The pretty part too.” His voice rumbled in her ear and she shifted in his arms, suddenly aware of just how close she was to him – and just how damn good it felt.  “Okay, down you go, just for a second.” He had stopped in front of a nondescript car – and at her glance he merely shrugged, unlocking it and opening the door for her to slide in. “Rental,” he responded to her unasked question when he slid behind the wheel. “Never in Caprica City enough to actually own a car.”

“Me neither,” she responded brightly. “I mean, I’m here enough, because I live here – but I don’t drive.”

“Where to, Miss Laura?” He spoke seriously, and she dissolved into another fit of giggles.

“You sound like one of my students. River Drive – the condos there. Do you know it?” He nodded and started the car, pulling away smoothly and surely, and she watched his capable hands on the wheel, wondering if he flew with the same confidence. “So you were a pilot? Not anymore?”

“Still qualified to fly, naturally – but it’s been years since I’ve been in the cockpit. I command a battlestar.”

“Which one?” she asked with interest, leaning her back against the door so she could view him better.

“Galactica.  For a year. And the Valkyrie before that,” he answered ahead of her questions, and she laughed in delight.

“And do you like commanding, Commander?” He chuckled at her teasing question and she waited patiently for a response.

“It has its ups and downs,” he finally replied in an even voice, and she giggled all the more.

“I just bet it does.”

“And what about yourself, Madame Secretary? You seem far too nice for politics,” he pointed out, and she sighed softly, her eyes moving from his hands to gaze through the windshield.

“I hate politics, but you’d be surprised how well I can swim with the sharks, so to speak. I’m not very nice, really. I can be a bit of a bitch at times.” She spoke seriously and his chuckle filled the confined space around her.

“Seeing as I just watched you nearly emasculate the President, I can’t say I’m that surprised.”

“Oh.” She blinked at him. “I did do that, didn’t I?” She paused a moment before shrugging whimsically. “Well, he deserved it.”

“That he did. I’ve always said Adar is a prick.” Bill spoke seriously and she smiled brightly at him. “And we’re here.” She looked around in shock, amazed to see they were indeed parked outside of her building.

“What the hell – did you fly?”

“No. Almost, but not quite.” She giggled softly as he slid out, opening her door a moment later and catching her when she lost her source of support.  “I’m sorry – I didn’t realize – ”

“I was drunk off my ass? No, well, who would?” She giggled again, fumbling with her seatbelt and standing next to him, swaying unsteadily. “I need coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. And you need coffee too. Come on.”

She stepped across the sidewalk, nodding to her doorman and striding into the lobby, leaning on the elevator button while she waited for Bill to catch up. She stared down at her purse – amazed it was still with her and thanking the Gods that she hadn’t misplaced it. It was nothing short of a miracle. He arrived next to her just as the doors sprung open, and she stepped onboard, digging through her tiny purse in search of her keys. “Really, it’s the size of a post stamp – you’d think I’d be able to find whatever I needed right away...” she grumbled as she dug past lipstick and mascara – loose change, her bank card and a stick of gum. Finally her fingers grasped her key – and she stared at Bill who stared back at her, standing by the button panel.

“Floor, Laura.”

“What about it?” She glanced down at the carpeting and he laughed, a soft sound.

“No, which floor?”

“Oh! Tenth.” He pressed the button, and the elevator rose swiftly and silently – causing her stomach to drop slightly and forcing her to concentrate on her breathing for a moment.

When the doors opened, she scampered off the elevator, her feet slipping on the long hem of her gown as she muttered curses under her breath. She waved the electronic key in front of her door panel, sighing in relief when it slid open. Once they entered, she hit the lighting switch and moved to kick off her shoes, only to realize there was no need. “Oh, oops. Forgot.” She giggled slightly before moving into her hallway and turning to him. “Make yourself comfortable – I’m just going to start coffee.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help? Or I could just go – ”

“No! You at least deserve coffee for taking me home.” She turned and walked as steadily as she could down the hall, disappearing into her kitchen, where she gripped the wall and looked around quickly. She felt almost guilty as she poured water into the machine and then tossed a coffee pad in and hit the button, watching as the water began streaming through rapidly. She had no reason to be, she told herself stubbornly. She was an adult – a single adult – and if she wanted a boy in her apartment, she could have one. She laughed softly at the thought of Bill Adama as a boy – he was the antithesis of the word, really.  “In the man sense, not the girl sense,” she reminded herself softly as she moved over to the cupboard and took down two mugs, placing spoons next to those and pulling her sugar dish closer. “And quite the man at that. Just shut up and get cream, Laura. Gods, you’d swear this was the first time you’d ever been alone with a man, and we all know that isn’t the case.”

“I thought I’d see if you needed help.” His voice was amused, and she jumped up from where her head was in the fridge as she searched for cream – cursing as she hit the edge.

“Oh frak!” she hissed, and he walked farther into the room, his now bare hands carefully weaving through her hair, as if checking for damage.

“You know, you swear an awful lot for a teacher.”

“Yeah well, you swear surprisingly little for a soldier,” she pointed out, and his fingers slowed their search – less probing now and moving through her hair in a softer caress. She sighed, leaning into the touch. It was so odd. Not just having a man here – something she wasn’t used to, since it was far too risky for her and Richard to ever come to her home. Hotels and couches in offices – she shuddered at the memory, vowing silently once again to never do that to herself again. “Wait. Are you married?” She blurted the question out and he blinked down at her with a smile.

“No, divorced.”

“Mmmm, well that’s good.” She grinned before realizing how that sounded. “Oh frak, I didn’t mean good for you – I’m sure it wasn’t good – I just meant…. You know what? I’ll just shut up now. I ramble when I drink, which is why I never ever do it. I’m a horrible lightweight and it always goes straight to my head. And I’m rambling again. You could stop me at any time – ” His mouth on hers did the trick – and she stopped talking in favour of sliding her hands around his waist and leaning into the soft kiss. It was almost chaste – a barely there brush of his lips on hers, but when he pulled away she kept her eyes closed, humming lightly in the back of her throat. “That works.”

A loud beep emitted from the coffee machine and he pulled away, reaching down into the open fridge and grabbing the creamer she had somehow missed before walking over and pouring two cups. “How do you take it?”

She blinked for a moment, a decidedly not nice girl response on the tip of her tongue, and when he looked up he must have seen the thoughts clearly on her face because he shook his head, laughing. “How about black?”

“Well, I’ve only tried it once, but I’ll give it another go,” she answered, tongue in cheek.  He carried the two cups as he followed her out through the living room and onto the balcony, where she seated herself at the small table there and he did the same. “So,” he asked after a sip of coffee, “do you always invite strange men to your home?”

“Only on Fridays.”

“My lucky day then, I suppose.” They were silent for a beat – but oddly, she didn’t find it at all awkward or tense – rather it was a comfortable silence, laying over them in a heavy blanket, just enough weight to be pleasant. “So have you ever been married?”

“Mmmm?” She looked over to find him watching her intently, and she smiled slightly. “No – never really got the right offer, I suppose. I wanted kids when I was younger – but it’s too late now.” She fought to keep an even voice as she spoke her one regret aloud – she didn’t indulge herself often, but children had been something she wanted. Girls, so she could relive her own love of her sisters through her daughters – maybe a boy just to see what it was like. “I had my students, for a while.”

“You seem like you’d be an excellent teacher. How’d you get into politics?”

“I volunteered on Richard’s first mayoral campaign.” She smiled nostalgically at the memory – the hole-in-the-wall campaign office and the people who had worked in it. “I was young and thought he would change the world. He did, I suppose – just not how I thought. I’ve known him a very long time – it just makes me sad to think this is how it all ended up.”

They were silent for a moment, and she sipped her coffee before shaking off her sombre mood and turning to him with a smile. “Ah well, things happen for a reason, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure they do.” His answer was slow and his voice deep, touched with a tinge of sadness, and she frowned across at him as he placed his mug down. “I should probably go.” He stood quickly, and she dropped her own mug to the table with a thud, careless of the coffee that sloshed over the rim and onto her hand. She stood as well, reaching a hand out to place it on his arm.

“Wait!” He paused halfway through the door into her living room and she faltered as his gaze turned to her. “I just – was it something I said?”

His hand covered hers, large and reassuringly warm, causing her skin to tingle at the sensation. “No, Laura – it’s just late, and I should let you sleep.” His smile didn’t quite chase the sadness from his eyes though, and she stepped closer, until she could feel his body heat, barely an inch between his chest and hers. She took a deep breath, her breasts brushing against the medals on his sash, his own breath drawing in quickly, following hers.

“What if I’m not tired?” She didn’t want him to leave. Couldn’t let him leave – and it was madness or idiocy, or both – but her heart was thundering in her chest at the thought of this man walking out the door right now. This couldn’t be all there was. There had to be more.

“Laura....” His voice was hesitant, his breath brushed across her right temple, stirring the hair there gently as she shivered. An ache was forming in the pit of her stomach, moving lower slowly as she swayed toward him, lifting onto the tips of her toes. “I’m not really in a good place right now, for various reasons –”

“Then let me make it better. Or keep you company there.” Her soft whispers were insistent and he looked into her eyes, staring at her for a long, torturous moment – making her feel as if she were drowning , and her hand tightened on his arm instinctively.

“You don’t know what you’re asking – if you did –”

“I’d ask anyway.” She closed the miniscule distance between them, pressing her body against his and almost moaning at the sensation. If it felt this good with clothes on...

“I’m gone ten months of the year. And I don’t do casual –”

“Bill?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.” Her lips closed the infinitesimal distance to his, and any thoughts she had after that were lost as soon as his mouth opened under hers. His tongue swept the inside of her mouth and she moaned, pressing herself closer as she wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

He moaned – but so did she, and their voices mingled and vibrated through their mouths, wrapping around their already-tangled tongues. When he broke away for air, she gasped, dragging in oxygen until her lungs burned from the effort. His forehead pressed against hers and his fingers traced the underside of her jaw, up the sides of her face while he fought to control his breathing. “Laura....”

“How much longer are you in town?”

“Another two weeks.” His voice was rough and she smiled, her nervousness lifting for the first time all evening – maybe all week.

“Good, you can take me out to dinner tomorrow night then.” Even as she spoke her lips were pressing against the skin of his cheek– soft, small scattered kisses pressed in between whispered words.

“Isn’t that my job?”

“Well, go ahead then.” She stepped back, away from him, and folded her arms, looking at him expectantly.

“Ah – all right. Miss Roslin, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?” His smile grew even as he asked the question, and she grinned in response, stepping closer to him, her arms moving back up automatically – pulling him closer as she drew his head toward her. Just before her lips reached his, she smiled and paused.

“No.” She breathed the word out and felt him stiffen beneath her hands as she smiled brightly. “But I will let you cook me breakfast in the morning.”


 




Tags: gidget fic, gidget fic:bsg, gidget: one shot, gidget: outside the garden, gidget: series
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