He listened to her-- mostly, at least. But while Sharon slowly approached, he couldn't take his eyes from hers. Sharon was looking at him differently, as though their places on the chessboard had evened out somehow, and now they were both talking the same language, or at least, the same suggestion and innuendo.
On her knees, between his legs, Lee understood just what the Cylons had created in Sharon, and how irresistibly seductive she would be-- she was, clearly-- to someone like himself. The blonde, Shelly Godfrey, the one Baltar called Number Six? Wouldn't have done much for Lee, but the woman gazing up at him with the hunger (no other word for it) in her eyes?
"Those things aren't impossible," he said finally, finding his breath shallow. "Not with the right kind of cooperation."
"And you're touching someone now, but if that's not enough..." Just as he felt the warmth of her breath through his trousers, he was reaching down to open them. "I think we can find ourselves an understanding," he rasped as he pushed enough of his clothes aside to expose himself to her, crossing the line.
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On her knees, between his legs, Lee understood just what the Cylons had created in Sharon, and how irresistibly seductive she would be-- she was, clearly-- to someone like himself. The blonde, Shelly Godfrey, the one Baltar called Number Six? Wouldn't have done much for Lee, but the woman gazing up at him with the hunger (no other word for it) in her eyes?
"Those things aren't impossible," he said finally, finding his breath shallow. "Not with the right kind of cooperation."
"And you're touching someone now, but if that's not enough..." Just as he felt the warmth of her breath through his trousers, he was reaching down to open them. "I think we can find ourselves an understanding," he rasped as he pushed enough of his clothes aside to expose himself to her, crossing the line.