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Those Legs

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“Do you remember the first day we met?” she asks.

Funny, he thinks, how eight little words can recall the most vivid sexual fantasy he’s ever had.

If he was going to be honest, he initially found her presence aboard the Galactica to be tiresome and irritating.
She was a schoolteacher with no comprehension of what it had been like to fight on the frontlines against the
Cylons and was therefore incapable of understanding his objection to the computer network. Moreover, she
represented the end of the ship, of what had been his home, his career, and his life, and brought with her the
alarming reminder that he couldn’t ever go back.

He really couldn’t be bothered with her.

But, frak...those legs.

He was very careful to avoid eye contact with her during the decommissioning ceremony. She approached him
after his speech, thanked him for his time, and made a point of telling him what he already knew: the ship’s
computers would be networked whether he liked it or not once he was gone. But she also said she hoped he
would reconsider and allow the process to start with his consent. There was something about her that struck
him, something haunting about the look in her eye.

He chose to ignore it and told her to have a nice trip back to Caprica.

He watched her board her ship, all the while wondering what it would feel like to have her legs wrapped around
him.

He waited until he was off duty and in his quarters to fully explore such a fantasy. He sat at his desk and pushed
aside the stack of papers awaiting his signature. He leaned back in his chair and unzipped pants, all the while
picturing the look on her face as he slowly stripped her proper attire from her body. He stroked himself through
his boxers as he imagined the sounds she would make as he pushed her against the wall and covered her mouth
with his. He wrapped his fist around his now-freed erection and pumped himself hard, eyes closed tight as he
envisioned sliding inside of her, fucking her. He could see it all, how he’d lift her up, her back against the cold
hard metal of the ship’s wall, then pull her down until she sheathed his cock. He’d reach down and pull one of
her long, slender legs up, wrap it around him, and drive into her over and over until she was screaming his name.

He came hard, the swiftness of his release surprising him. He hadn’t fantasized so vividly about a woman in years.

He went to the restroom and cleaned himself up. He returned to his desk and grabbed a book, tossing any further
thoughts of Laura Roslin (and her legs) aside. Best not to wish for that which you can’t have, after all.

His phone buzzed.

“CIC to commanding officer.”

“Bill!,” she says, her tone sharp.

He startles from his memory and focuses on her again, sitting on his couch in her robe. He smiles.

“Yes, Laura, I remember the first day we met.”

“You were such a bastard,” she says.

He laughs. “You were kind of a pain in the ass yourself,” he says.

“Yes,” she acknowledges, smiling as she adjusts the scarf around her head.

His own smile fades, once again the reality of her fate washing over him. He’s never wished so hard for that which
he can’t have.

“I didn’t mind, though,” he says.

“No?”

“No,” he says. “Not with legs like that.”

“These old things?” she asks, batting her eyelashes at him as she stretches her legs out along the couch.

“It’s hard not to notice them, you know,” he tells her, getting up from his chair to join her.

“Oh, I saw you noticing them, alright,” she says as he sits at her feet.

“And here I thought I was being subtle,” he says, running one hand up her calf. “From the moment I met you, I wanted
to know just what those legs could do.”

“C’mere,” she says. “And I’ll show you.”