ficlet (bsg): diplomacy
This week's rememberlaura theme and specifically today's drabble post reminded me of a very short drabble-like fic I wrote right after He That Believeth In Me airs. I posted it then but had totally forgotten about it and considering most of you weren't on my friends list then and I never posted it anywhere else, I thought I'd repost it. (Really, I just want to use my fanfiction tag again, because I don't think I've posted anything new in a YEAR. Wow, I fail.)
Diplomacy
"Kara," she says. She is a politician, negotiating. “Kara.” But she doesn’t have anything to offer because she will not turn around. She says “Please don’t do this,” and knows that it is as hollow as the last time she said it, to the man she never thought she would have to beg.
“We’re going the wrong way,” Kara tells her, eyes hard and focused but with a twitch to her lip like she doesn’t want to cry. Laura had a headache when she came in and it hasn’t gone away. “You have to turn around.”
She thinks of Bill. Bill, who tucked her into his bed and ran a damp cloth over her face with such reverence, like it was an honor to wipe the sweat from her brow. Bill, who just last night had held her to his side and told her how sorry he was, clutching her hand like her wasted body was the only real thing left to him. She thinks of him and decides that if she is going to die, it will not be at the hand of the woman he calls his daughter.
She traces the soft skin of Kara’s cheekbone. “I have cancer,” she murmurs. Kara stiffens, tense like a puppet on a string. “That’s going to kill me as surely as a bullet.” It will be slower, and the pain won’t be concentrated to a single point for a single instant. “I’m going to die, but you’re not going to kill me, Kara.” The name comes out on a breath bitter with tears and Kara swallows, nods.
She puts down the gun, and Laura tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Thank you,” she whispers.
She picks it up and shoots.
Also, thanks to those who commented/messaged me in response to yesterday's post - being nervous (even about stupid things) isn't so bad when there's a great support system!
Diplomacy
"Kara," she says. She is a politician, negotiating. “Kara.” But she doesn’t have anything to offer because she will not turn around. She says “Please don’t do this,” and knows that it is as hollow as the last time she said it, to the man she never thought she would have to beg.
“We’re going the wrong way,” Kara tells her, eyes hard and focused but with a twitch to her lip like she doesn’t want to cry. Laura had a headache when she came in and it hasn’t gone away. “You have to turn around.”
She thinks of Bill. Bill, who tucked her into his bed and ran a damp cloth over her face with such reverence, like it was an honor to wipe the sweat from her brow. Bill, who just last night had held her to his side and told her how sorry he was, clutching her hand like her wasted body was the only real thing left to him. She thinks of him and decides that if she is going to die, it will not be at the hand of the woman he calls his daughter.
She traces the soft skin of Kara’s cheekbone. “I have cancer,” she murmurs. Kara stiffens, tense like a puppet on a string. “That’s going to kill me as surely as a bullet.” It will be slower, and the pain won’t be concentrated to a single point for a single instant. “I’m going to die, but you’re not going to kill me, Kara.” The name comes out on a breath bitter with tears and Kara swallows, nods.
She puts down the gun, and Laura tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Thank you,” she whispers.
She picks it up and shoots.
Also, thanks to those who commented/messaged me in response to yesterday's post - being nervous (even about stupid things) isn't so bad when there's a great support system!