FIC: a shape of memory (BSG, Saul/Ellen, PG)
Title: a shape of memory
Author: jadecaptain
Recipient: anonymous_sibyl
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Saul/Ellen
Rating: PG
Word count: approx. 760
Disclaimer: I own no rights to Battlestar Galactica or any characters used in
this fic.
Summary: One year anniversaries.
“It’s been a year Saul, are you going to drink to this like you’ve drunk to all of our other anniversaries? For old time’s sake?” Ellen breathed into his ear as her hand slid down the side of his face, tracing the eye patch digging into his cheek with soft, soft fingers. They aren’t her fingers of course, she died with calloused hands just like the rest of them on New Caprica, but they comfort him more.
His mind plays tricks with the light and her hair is as bright as it was when they were young, when the fights led to mind-blowing orgasms and proclamations of love. When they had been almost. . .not content, but comfortable together. Her eyes are playful and only a little mocking as she draped herself into his lap and he half-grunted, half-chuckled at her around the third heavy glass of moonshine.
“Looks like the XO is having a rough day so this drink is on us!” Adama’s kid shouted with a cheerful smile, bitter edges making him look as dangerous as Starbuck. As Starbuck used to look. Maybe the second Adama just absorbed some of her essence, becoming a walking memorial for everyone. A reminder that they were all fallible and sometimes those faults wouldn‘t save them.
Saul felt his almost-smile drop from his face and took the free drink without comment.
“Don’t think about that girl, there was nothing you could have done. No way you could have known she was-” He stopped her sentence by yanking her against him, hugging her close so her mouth was just under his ear and her eyelashes swept down the curved shell like a whisper of a very real memory. “Besides, it’s my day not hers.”
“Drinking for a special occasion?” Chief Tyrol asked gruffly, like maybe he was drinking for something special too, or maybe just because he was drinking.
“Not really,” Saul gave the Chief a sideways glance with his good eye and spots Lee Adama leaning not far from the other man. Haunted eyes and smile, but that doesn’t make him special. Loss doesn’t make any of them special anymore.
She whispered, “Liar,” and swung herself into his lap so her thighs hug around his hips and her arms are heavy straps of memory on his shoulders. “Nobody remembers--it’s not like anybody would care if you--”
“--want another?” Chief Tyrol offered as he leaned on the counter of the nice little bar everyone helped build. Everyone’s initials are carved into it, even Bill’s name is there. Right next to Starbuck’s and Lee’s.
“What about the rest of us, Saul? Our hardships deserve more than--”
“Sure--as long as it’s on you chief.” Saul replied thickly, a hand splayed on her lower back.
“You always loved to interrupt me then too.” Ellen chuckled sweetly, a low sticky noise like when she cries--no, when she cried. The last time she cried. He knocked back his drink fast and hard before the memory choked him. Her arms tightening around his neck, forcing him to admit what he had done.
Not if he could help it though, no matter what she wanted from him. Even if it was just to himself.
“You’re still no fun, pumpkin face,” she nuzzled into his neck and breathed out tiredly, it left a damp circle on his shoulder that he knew was not real but felt so, so right. “I’m tired of being a lie. I’m tired Saul.”
“Sir? Are you alright?” Chief interrupted, although he couldn’t know. No one knows, except maybe Bill. Maybe.
“I. . .I poisoned her. She betrayed the Union, almost got your wife killed. The President. Innocent humans.” Saul pressed the cold glass against his working eye and Ellen smiled into his skin. A curve of soft lips and brightness that touches him deeper than. . .anything. Anyone. “I couldn’t let anyone else kill her, because she’s mine. You know? No--no of course you don’t know.”
“Sir. . .you don’t have to--it’s okay, sir.”
Of course, it wasn’t okay, but Ellen seemed pleased so Saul let out a harsh breath and stood up as suddenly as he had sat down earlier. “I’m going to finish this day in my quarters, Chief. Thanks for the drink.” Saul said gruffly, sliding a hand around her waist with an arm made strong by memory and the weightlessness of her body against his. If Tyrol replied, Saul didn’t hear it because Ellen was whispering him praise.
A brave act indeed. It only took a year.
Author: jadecaptain
Recipient: anonymous_sibyl
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Saul/Ellen
Rating: PG
Word count: approx. 760
Disclaimer: I own no rights to Battlestar Galactica or any characters used in
this fic.
Summary: One year anniversaries.
“It’s been a year Saul, are you going to drink to this like you’ve drunk to all of our other anniversaries? For old time’s sake?” Ellen breathed into his ear as her hand slid down the side of his face, tracing the eye patch digging into his cheek with soft, soft fingers. They aren’t her fingers of course, she died with calloused hands just like the rest of them on New Caprica, but they comfort him more.
His mind plays tricks with the light and her hair is as bright as it was when they were young, when the fights led to mind-blowing orgasms and proclamations of love. When they had been almost. . .not content, but comfortable together. Her eyes are playful and only a little mocking as she draped herself into his lap and he half-grunted, half-chuckled at her around the third heavy glass of moonshine.
“Looks like the XO is having a rough day so this drink is on us!” Adama’s kid shouted with a cheerful smile, bitter edges making him look as dangerous as Starbuck. As Starbuck used to look. Maybe the second Adama just absorbed some of her essence, becoming a walking memorial for everyone. A reminder that they were all fallible and sometimes those faults wouldn‘t save them.
Saul felt his almost-smile drop from his face and took the free drink without comment.
“Don’t think about that girl, there was nothing you could have done. No way you could have known she was-” He stopped her sentence by yanking her against him, hugging her close so her mouth was just under his ear and her eyelashes swept down the curved shell like a whisper of a very real memory. “Besides, it’s my day not hers.”
“Drinking for a special occasion?” Chief Tyrol asked gruffly, like maybe he was drinking for something special too, or maybe just because he was drinking.
“Not really,” Saul gave the Chief a sideways glance with his good eye and spots Lee Adama leaning not far from the other man. Haunted eyes and smile, but that doesn’t make him special. Loss doesn’t make any of them special anymore.
She whispered, “Liar,” and swung herself into his lap so her thighs hug around his hips and her arms are heavy straps of memory on his shoulders. “Nobody remembers--it’s not like anybody would care if you--”
“--want another?” Chief Tyrol offered as he leaned on the counter of the nice little bar everyone helped build. Everyone’s initials are carved into it, even Bill’s name is there. Right next to Starbuck’s and Lee’s.
“What about the rest of us, Saul? Our hardships deserve more than--”
“Sure--as long as it’s on you chief.” Saul replied thickly, a hand splayed on her lower back.
“You always loved to interrupt me then too.” Ellen chuckled sweetly, a low sticky noise like when she cries--no, when she cried. The last time she cried. He knocked back his drink fast and hard before the memory choked him. Her arms tightening around his neck, forcing him to admit what he had done.
Not if he could help it though, no matter what she wanted from him. Even if it was just to himself.
“You’re still no fun, pumpkin face,” she nuzzled into his neck and breathed out tiredly, it left a damp circle on his shoulder that he knew was not real but felt so, so right. “I’m tired of being a lie. I’m tired Saul.”
“Sir? Are you alright?” Chief interrupted, although he couldn’t know. No one knows, except maybe Bill. Maybe.
“I. . .I poisoned her. She betrayed the Union, almost got your wife killed. The President. Innocent humans.” Saul pressed the cold glass against his working eye and Ellen smiled into his skin. A curve of soft lips and brightness that touches him deeper than. . .anything. Anyone. “I couldn’t let anyone else kill her, because she’s mine. You know? No--no of course you don’t know.”
“Sir. . .you don’t have to--it’s okay, sir.”
Of course, it wasn’t okay, but Ellen seemed pleased so Saul let out a harsh breath and stood up as suddenly as he had sat down earlier. “I’m going to finish this day in my quarters, Chief. Thanks for the drink.” Saul said gruffly, sliding a hand around her waist with an arm made strong by memory and the weightlessness of her body against his. If Tyrol replied, Saul didn’t hear it because Ellen was whispering him praise.
A brave act indeed. It only took a year.