i'm the bishop, in case you were wondering
quick meme, nabbed from vega_ofthe_lyre and everywhere :
The first TEN people to comment in this post get to request that I write a drabble of any pairing/character of their choosing. In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level. (If you absolutely can't write, maybe find a creative alternative?)
my fandoms are here.
01. laulan ( Read more... )
The first TEN people to comment in this post get to request that I write a drabble of any pairing/character of their choosing. In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level. (If you absolutely can't write, maybe find a creative alternative?)
my fandoms are here.
01. laulan ( Read more... )
Late at night, the Argo is quiet. Its engine hums softer than she's used to; the last boat she hitched on ground its engine like a truck with bad gears, and Galactica had never been quiet. Here, it's silent enough to let her drown in her own thoughts, and Kara's not inclined to get lost that way if she can help it. She pulls night shifts on purpose, trades with Jayne and Alice so instead of spending the wee hours of the morning tossing and turning in her rack, she's wandering the halls or sitting on deck in the copilot's chair, watching the security feeds roll by.
She looks down abruptly when there's a cool touch to the back of her dangling hand. Scoresby's rabbit is the size of a Schnauzer, and stares up at her with unsettling golden eyes. "What d'you want?" Kara murmurs, running a cautious finger up the curve of one long ear. "Think she's after this," comes the drawl behind her, and Kara turns to see the lanky Texan in the door. She grins, nodding to the carrot in his hand. "Where'd you get that? Last produce we had got eaten days ago."
Scoresby shrugs. "A gentleman never shares his secrets." He points with the carrot at the empty pilot's seat. "You mind?" Kara shakes her head and watches out of the corner of her eye as he folds himself into the chair. The rabbit leaves Kara and goes to wait patiently by her master's side until he breaks off a chunk of the carrot with a dry snap and feeds it to her.
"You'll get used to it," he says idly after a minute. Kara's eyes narrow. "Used to what?" she asks; does he think she's unfamiliar with space travel, with the long stretches of boredom when you're traveling sub-light speed?
"The quiet," he says with another little hitch of a shrug. "The loneliness. I've been flying buckets from one planet to the next for near twenty years, and it doesn't change much. Maybe that's not what's keeping you up," he demurs before she can protest, "but it still keeps me wakeful on a new ship, 'til I get done gettin' the feel of her." He draws a small pipe from his waistcoat pocket and lights it; instead of talking, she pulls a stogey from her pocket and flicks her lighter beneath its tip. "Folks say I talk a lot," Scoresby adds, the words marinating in his mouth before he lets them go, "and I hope you don't mind. But if I'm not sleeping, I might as well be keeping good company while I pass the time."
Kara taps the ash off the end of her smoke and looks out at the stars with a little grin in spite of herself. "Nah. I don't mind."
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