Behind The Curtain
by Jennifer-Oksana

Kara runs her tongue over Six's teeth. Sometimes, there are benefits to be the one who leads Cylons to the execution chamber. "So, what does your God need a blonde bimbo sexbot model for, anyway?" she growls huskily into Six's ear. "Instant gratification?"

"Do you really think God pays so much attention to physical beauty?" Six asks, her fingers twisting and pulling at Kara's hair. "Perhaps I'm here to get the fickle and shallow to pay attention."

God knows. Or maybe not. Kara grinds against Six, noting that the Cylon doesn't feel so hard when she's got her hands all over Kara's body.

"Your God must be ugly as hell," and Six flinches like that's a personal comment, and once again, Kara is trying to figure out why the damn toasters can be so strange. "I mean, can't He just show up and command people? Why would he need a pretty girl?"

Six answers with brutal kisses, tearing Kara's tanks down the back with one ruthless, brutal pull that kind of hurts Kara's collarbone. But it feels good, feels like steel and girl and hunger.

"The image shapes the reality," Six says, sucking on the side of Starbuck's neck. "Would you be quite so brazen if that wasn't the expectation? Starbuck, the bold one, the big-mouth playboy? The kind of girl who would frak a toaster just for the thrill before popping it in the mouth and taking it home to daddy?"

Starbuck chuckles, unzipping the smart little black jacket the blonde is wearing and lifting up the satin tank underneath, noting that Six doesn't wear a bra. And has nice, hard nipples that beg to be touched, sucked, bit down on.

"So God needs sluts, too," Kara says, as Six cups and squeezes a breast. "I suppose for all the praying horny people do...oh, frak, do that again."

Six does and Kara whimpers before undoing her own belt. This Cylon is so different than the others Kara has met. There's something in her eyes that is almost familiar. And pained. Not pained like Boomer and her lost-little-girl thing. Not pained like Leoben, who wanted to reunite with God.

Pretty, sultry Six start squirming as Kara undoes her zipper and pulls off her trousers, almost as if she's having second thoughts. But then the expression changes, and she arches her back and slides her leg around Starbuck's.

"Stop talking about God," Six hisses, her breasts practically begging for Kara to touch them. "You don't know the first thing..."

Starbuck, not about to be bested by the blonde sexpot, commences her exploration of the curves on Six's torso and the other woman starts to moan and gasp, her hands resting on Kara's shoulders, fingers digging in sharply.

Cylons taste like women, salt and skin. It's real enough that it unnerves Starbuck just a little.

"I know that you're wet," Starbuck says with a toothy grin. "Know that you're all turned on by my squishy human body and my squishy human breasts. And that you want to get a taste of my nice, juicy..."

Six pushes Starbuck to her knees, where Kara can smell the turned-on, and wrap her fingers around thin but curvy hips. Pulls them closer.

The feel of Six's hot, iron-hard fingers as she cups Starbuck's face and tilts it up. There's someone in there, someone far too wanting for a toaster. Kara's tongue wets dry lips, panting slightly.

"Do you know who I am?" Six asks.

"Do you?" Kara asks, not quite sure what to make of the question.

Except it tickles memory, echoes something. Do you know who I am? Who had said that?

"I'm God's servant," Six says, tilting her head back and letting Starbuck's chin fall.

"You're software with a pulse," Kara replies. "Bet you can feel it right in your clit, can't you? Increased pulse, rise in temperature, and you're God's servant. Right."

Contemptuously, Kara puts her hand against Six's cunt and rubs, nuzzling at the exposed, sweaty skin of her hip. Six wails, a foul-mouthed frak me aria of moans and screams.

"Oh, gods, yes," she says, and the hairs on the back of Starbuck's neck rise. Does she know who she is, hell. Toasters don't pray to gods, multiple. Maybe Kara's hearing things. Or maybe Kara's seeing things.

"Stop talking about the gods," Starbuck growls, because she's not going to stop just because something's very wrong here. That would make her seem weak, make the toaster think her mind games were working. "Thought you only believed in one."

"You don't care what I believe," Six replies.

Starbuck breathes out, right over the Cylon's blonde tangle of hair and wet lips, and the bitch finally shuts up and starts to gasp and pant again. And Kara's still turned on, but it's all tinged with sour, tingling curiosity that turns things different. How far does the game go? Cylon mind game, or is Kara right, could Kara be right, how could she even do it?

Long, strong thighs so close to Kara's face that she takes a moment to rub against them.

The image shapes the reality, Starbuck remembers. Kara the bad girl, and this crazy Number Six, undulating and keening as she juts her hips and pussy right at Kara, she's supposed to be cool seduction and mysterious statements, right?

Of course, Starbuck's thinking this is a threesome right here and now, kissing a warm, sticky inner thigh before grazing inner folds. And the part of her that's an exhibitionist is getting hot.

"Oh," Six breathes hard. "That's..."

Starbuck hums against the body she's frakking, lapping and rubbing and tasting. A little showier than she has to be because if she's going to get them off, she's going to get them all off.

It's a hell of an image, Kara's sure. Starbuck, eating Cylon like she was born to it, guiding and holding on to hips that shimmied and shook and rolled forward and back. Six, eyes closed, groaning with pleasure as one of her hands pushed on Kara's head and the other rubbed and pinched at a hard nipple, tongue flickering in and out.

One that would have anyone watching, let alone Madam Do-You-Know-Who-I-Am. If it's really her flickering in and out of Six's closed eyes, skimming along light as a feather.

Watching. Maybe not watching.

Maybe Six gets to know her God intimately, Kara thinks as Six thrusts and shudders and comes hard against Kara's mouth. Maybe Kara does, too.

"I know," Kara gasps, feeling herself hauled to her feet and kissed hard, the kind of kiss that promises that Starbuck's going to get hers now. "I know who you are."

"No, you don't," Six answers, her lips buzzing against Kara's earlobe. "Not really."

Kara laughs as Six violently shoves her against a strut and starts doing quality destruction on her remaining clothes, clearly possessed by some need to prove...what? That it's only them, that Six isn't a pretty velvet glove pulled over the basest, simplest desires? There's so much sound and fury in the way Six is going at her that Starbuck almost wants to push her away.

But it feels good. And now Kara knows something that's far more interesting than the taste of Cylon sweat.

"If you really wanted to frak me, I wouldn't have said no," Starbuck teases, pulling them both down, down, down. "If you're still listening."

Six laughs. And wraps her hands around Kara's windpipe. Teasingly at first, but Starbuck starts to realize she's serious when her vision starts to blur at the edges.

"Humans are so easy to manipulate," she says, laughing shrilly. "Do you really have any idea who I am? Or how easy it was to kill you?"

It's someone else's laugh, but Kara is past caring now.


Silverlake: Authors / Mediums / Titles / Links / List / About / Updates / Silverlake Remix