(95) White Flag
Title: White Flag
Author: marzipanilla
Rating: pg
Original fic: A Glint of Something
Notes: I might have screwed up the headscarf description. Apologies on that front.
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Laura turned the napkin in her hand, frowning at it softly. Early that night the rough linen had seemed softer, and she could see a delicate embroidery of flowers on its corner.
The vision had appeared after the mention of Adama's son Zak, and she hadn't been able to let it go, having received a strange sense of comfort from it. Chamalla had changed her sight before, but in the intimate setting of the dinner and warm lighting, Laura had almost believed it to just be a trick of the light.
Still, turning the cloth in her hand she couldn't shake the feeling of loss, and... acceptance.
"Madame President?"
Her eyes drifted up to the Commander.
"Yes?"
"Have you sufficiently wiped your hands?"
She battled the blush that threatened to overtake her cheeks and handed the napkin to him. "Yes," her hand rested in his. "Yes, thank you."
His eyes went down to their hands, fingers curling around the cloth and her fingers in turn. For a moment, she wondered if he could feel it too.
"Madame President?" Lee's voice cut back to them. "Are you ready to leave?"
Their hands dropped from each other and the moment was broken.
Author: marzipanilla
Rating: pg
Original fic: A Glint of Something
Notes: I might have screwed up the headscarf description. Apologies on that front.
-
Laura turned the napkin in her hand, frowning at it softly. Early that night the rough linen had seemed softer, and she could see a delicate embroidery of flowers on its corner.
The vision had appeared after the mention of Adama's son Zak, and she hadn't been able to let it go, having received a strange sense of comfort from it. Chamalla had changed her sight before, but in the intimate setting of the dinner and warm lighting, Laura had almost believed it to just be a trick of the light.
Still, turning the cloth in her hand she couldn't shake the feeling of loss, and... acceptance.
"Madame President?"
Her eyes drifted up to the Commander.
"Yes?"
"Have you sufficiently wiped your hands?"
She battled the blush that threatened to overtake her cheeks and handed the napkin to him. "Yes," her hand rested in his. "Yes, thank you."
His eyes went down to their hands, fingers curling around the cloth and her fingers in turn. For a moment, she wondered if he could feel it too.
"Madame President?" Lee's voice cut back to them. "Are you ready to leave?"
Their hands dropped from each other and the moment was broken.