FIC: The Bargain Hunter
Rating: K
Genre: Humor, General, Fluff
Word Count: 1,200
Characters: OC, Adama, A/R implied
Summary: What does the Admiral get the President who has nearly nothing?
Series: Love in a Time of War: 6
A/N: An intermission between the angstier bits earlier in the series and some pointless smut to follow.
Nikko couldn’t help but notice when this particular group stopped before his vending stall. Marines in full body armor, including weapons, weren’t his usual customers. The trader rose from his comfortable footstool and put aside his cup of tea.
“Ladies, gentlemen, what can I help you--“ he said, and then they stepped back to reveal the Admiral of the Fleet. Nikko contained himself. He knew that the one particular ensign who sometimes dropped by his stall was buying items for the Admiral, but the man himself had never come into the bowels of the PCS Quattro freighter.
“Sir,” Nikko breathed. “It’s an honor.”
In person, the Admiral was shorter than he expected, but solid and tough-looking. Nikko appreciated that. They’d need some heavy brass balls to get to Earth, more so now that New Caprica had broken more than one heart.
The officer simply tipped his head in acknowledgement, and began looking over Nikko’s wares casually.
The old trader noticed Adama’s carrying case. “Perhaps you’ve brought some items to swap?” Nikko asked.
Adama ignored Nikko’s opening gambit. “I’m looking for a gift.”
“For a man or a woman?” said Nikko, his eyes narrowing. He knew the ensign had bought gifts with specific instructions but they had been simple little things suitable for platonic friends. This gift was important enough to garner the Admiral himself.
There were no rumors of the military leader having a partner, per say, but there was plenty of speculation about his relationship with the president. And why not? She was a very attractive woman, if the old trader did think so himself, licking his lips with relish.
Nikko remembered the latest press footage he’d seen, the President taking her oath again, how the Admirals’ eyes were always on her when he was shown by the cameraman. There was everything from incredulous whisperings to crude jokes, but no one admitted to knowing the truth about them.
Casual, not answering the question, Adama said, “I want something special. Unique.”
It was for a woman, Nikko decided. He asked, “Unique, as in, no longer exists for us?” He put up one gnarled finger and retreated behind his curtain. “Here you are,” he said, bringing out a flat box incased in sealed plastic.
“Yes,” Adama said, feigning indifference. “What is it?”
“A box of chocolate,” Nikko said, and saw the flare in the man’s eyes. “Six lovely truffles, a mixture of centers, sealed a week after The Fall when I realized that we were going to be here for a while and such luxuries would be scarce. Guaranteed to taste fresh.”
A small smile quirked on Adama’s lips. “You thought that you’d better horde chocolate for the foreseeable future.”
Nikko insisted, “I have complete confidence in you and the President. But I knew that Earth wasn’t going to be right around the corner.”
Adama’s eyebrows raised when he saw the box’s label. “Galactica Gift Chocolates?”
Nikko gave his gap-toothed grin. “I hustled over and bought out the inventory as soon as I heard you were closing the gift shop and returning it to a hanger deck. I’ve been livin’ off that haul ever since.”
“No doubt,” murmured the military man, stroking a silk scarf absentmindedly. He slowly opened his bag and removed a lovely silver bowl covered with intricate designs.
Nikko lifted it to the dim light, carefully turning it. “Nice work. Tauron?”
“Yes,” said Adama.
Nikko frowned. “I don’t have much call for display items anymore, as beautiful as it is. People want practical.”
“Like chocolate?”
Nikko said, sly, “You’re a good negotiator; the President give you a lot of practice?”
Adama’s gaze dropped back to the display items. “I’m just here to make a fair deal.”
“Of course,” Nikko soothed. “What else ya got?”
Adama narrowed his eyes before slowly putting his hand in his bag. He brought out a pair of worn, but still sturdy pilot’s gloves.
“Admiral,” Nikko gasped, looking up and down the crowded market’s aisles. “This is military surplus! You know the rules!”
Adama grinned. “Not surplus. Look at the markings. These are original Colonial ordinance from the first Cylon war. Still got plenty of miles in them, though.”
Nikko licked his lips. “That gets you the chocolate for sure.”
Adama pulled the gloves back. “I want more.”
“Like what?” asked Nikko.
“You tell me,” Adama said, and Nikko decided that he wouldn’t want to play triad with this man.
Nikko held up his finger again, signaling Adama to pay attention. He leaned forward, and the Admiral leaned in to meet him over the table. “A flower,” he whispered.
“Flowers? Real flowers?” Adama said, his cool gone. His odd blue eyes lit up.
Nikko shook his head regretfully. “Not flowers, but a single flower. But it’s from a live plant.”
Suspiciously, Adama said, “It’s not a weed or something, is it?”
“No, of course not,” Nikko assured him. “It’s an air orchid, so I don’t need to worry about dirt. But I only get one flower every couple of months. And it’s just opening now. Put it in water, and you’ll have at least two weeks before the petals fall off.”
Adama looked down at his gloves. “This will do it?”
“Yes.”
“And the chocolates,” Adama said, narrowing his eyes.
Nikko reeled back in horror, clutching the box to his chest. “Sir, if you knew what I could get for these!”
“The bowl too,” said Adama.
Nikko stuck out his hand and they shook on it.
Adama gave his old gloves one last squeeze, and Nikko felt for him. He’d seen plenty of sad goodbyes to treasured items, but this one affected him. He’d been around enough pilots to know how they felt about their gear. But that was a woman for you; make you do things you’d never imagine before.
He remembered another snip of press footage, of the President faking shattering a precious bottle of ambrosia on the nose of a new fighter jet. She’d whirled away with the bottle, nearly collapsing with giggles, her hair rippling with glee, lovely legs spinning her around, and Nikko had thought, that might be worth one of his great treasures.
After the box of chocolates had slipped into Adama’s bag and the single blossom, red as her lips, with a blush of pink down at the throat, was carefully wrapped in a damp cloth, they shook hands again.
Nikko looked at Adama’s wedding ring on the hand gripping his bag’s handle. He dared to say, “And when you’re ready to get rid of that, come to me. Always a good market for wedding rings.”
Adama hefted his bag and gave the old trader a much younger man’s--a flying jock’s--sly grin. “Don’t expect me. I’ll still be needing it,” he said, striding away without a backwards glance, and Nikko realized that he’d just gotten one more prize for his trade.
The End
End Notes: Little things like how the BSG universe economy work makes me curious. I had to write something for it.
Genre: Humor, General, Fluff
Word Count: 1,200
Characters: OC, Adama, A/R implied
Summary: What does the Admiral get the President who has nearly nothing?
Series: Love in a Time of War: 6
A/N: An intermission between the angstier bits earlier in the series and some pointless smut to follow.
Nikko couldn’t help but notice when this particular group stopped before his vending stall. Marines in full body armor, including weapons, weren’t his usual customers. The trader rose from his comfortable footstool and put aside his cup of tea.
“Ladies, gentlemen, what can I help you--“ he said, and then they stepped back to reveal the Admiral of the Fleet. Nikko contained himself. He knew that the one particular ensign who sometimes dropped by his stall was buying items for the Admiral, but the man himself had never come into the bowels of the PCS Quattro freighter.
“Sir,” Nikko breathed. “It’s an honor.”
In person, the Admiral was shorter than he expected, but solid and tough-looking. Nikko appreciated that. They’d need some heavy brass balls to get to Earth, more so now that New Caprica had broken more than one heart.
The officer simply tipped his head in acknowledgement, and began looking over Nikko’s wares casually.
The old trader noticed Adama’s carrying case. “Perhaps you’ve brought some items to swap?” Nikko asked.
Adama ignored Nikko’s opening gambit. “I’m looking for a gift.”
“For a man or a woman?” said Nikko, his eyes narrowing. He knew the ensign had bought gifts with specific instructions but they had been simple little things suitable for platonic friends. This gift was important enough to garner the Admiral himself.
There were no rumors of the military leader having a partner, per say, but there was plenty of speculation about his relationship with the president. And why not? She was a very attractive woman, if the old trader did think so himself, licking his lips with relish.
Nikko remembered the latest press footage he’d seen, the President taking her oath again, how the Admirals’ eyes were always on her when he was shown by the cameraman. There was everything from incredulous whisperings to crude jokes, but no one admitted to knowing the truth about them.
Casual, not answering the question, Adama said, “I want something special. Unique.”
It was for a woman, Nikko decided. He asked, “Unique, as in, no longer exists for us?” He put up one gnarled finger and retreated behind his curtain. “Here you are,” he said, bringing out a flat box incased in sealed plastic.
“Yes,” Adama said, feigning indifference. “What is it?”
“A box of chocolate,” Nikko said, and saw the flare in the man’s eyes. “Six lovely truffles, a mixture of centers, sealed a week after The Fall when I realized that we were going to be here for a while and such luxuries would be scarce. Guaranteed to taste fresh.”
A small smile quirked on Adama’s lips. “You thought that you’d better horde chocolate for the foreseeable future.”
Nikko insisted, “I have complete confidence in you and the President. But I knew that Earth wasn’t going to be right around the corner.”
Adama’s eyebrows raised when he saw the box’s label. “Galactica Gift Chocolates?”
Nikko gave his gap-toothed grin. “I hustled over and bought out the inventory as soon as I heard you were closing the gift shop and returning it to a hanger deck. I’ve been livin’ off that haul ever since.”
“No doubt,” murmured the military man, stroking a silk scarf absentmindedly. He slowly opened his bag and removed a lovely silver bowl covered with intricate designs.
Nikko lifted it to the dim light, carefully turning it. “Nice work. Tauron?”
“Yes,” said Adama.
Nikko frowned. “I don’t have much call for display items anymore, as beautiful as it is. People want practical.”
“Like chocolate?”
Nikko said, sly, “You’re a good negotiator; the President give you a lot of practice?”
Adama’s gaze dropped back to the display items. “I’m just here to make a fair deal.”
“Of course,” Nikko soothed. “What else ya got?”
Adama narrowed his eyes before slowly putting his hand in his bag. He brought out a pair of worn, but still sturdy pilot’s gloves.
“Admiral,” Nikko gasped, looking up and down the crowded market’s aisles. “This is military surplus! You know the rules!”
Adama grinned. “Not surplus. Look at the markings. These are original Colonial ordinance from the first Cylon war. Still got plenty of miles in them, though.”
Nikko licked his lips. “That gets you the chocolate for sure.”
Adama pulled the gloves back. “I want more.”
“Like what?” asked Nikko.
“You tell me,” Adama said, and Nikko decided that he wouldn’t want to play triad with this man.
Nikko held up his finger again, signaling Adama to pay attention. He leaned forward, and the Admiral leaned in to meet him over the table. “A flower,” he whispered.
“Flowers? Real flowers?” Adama said, his cool gone. His odd blue eyes lit up.
Nikko shook his head regretfully. “Not flowers, but a single flower. But it’s from a live plant.”
Suspiciously, Adama said, “It’s not a weed or something, is it?”
“No, of course not,” Nikko assured him. “It’s an air orchid, so I don’t need to worry about dirt. But I only get one flower every couple of months. And it’s just opening now. Put it in water, and you’ll have at least two weeks before the petals fall off.”
Adama looked down at his gloves. “This will do it?”
“Yes.”
“And the chocolates,” Adama said, narrowing his eyes.
Nikko reeled back in horror, clutching the box to his chest. “Sir, if you knew what I could get for these!”
“The bowl too,” said Adama.
Nikko stuck out his hand and they shook on it.
Adama gave his old gloves one last squeeze, and Nikko felt for him. He’d seen plenty of sad goodbyes to treasured items, but this one affected him. He’d been around enough pilots to know how they felt about their gear. But that was a woman for you; make you do things you’d never imagine before.
He remembered another snip of press footage, of the President faking shattering a precious bottle of ambrosia on the nose of a new fighter jet. She’d whirled away with the bottle, nearly collapsing with giggles, her hair rippling with glee, lovely legs spinning her around, and Nikko had thought, that might be worth one of his great treasures.
After the box of chocolates had slipped into Adama’s bag and the single blossom, red as her lips, with a blush of pink down at the throat, was carefully wrapped in a damp cloth, they shook hands again.
Nikko looked at Adama’s wedding ring on the hand gripping his bag’s handle. He dared to say, “And when you’re ready to get rid of that, come to me. Always a good market for wedding rings.”
Adama hefted his bag and gave the old trader a much younger man’s--a flying jock’s--sly grin. “Don’t expect me. I’ll still be needing it,” he said, striding away without a backwards glance, and Nikko realized that he’d just gotten one more prize for his trade.
The End
End Notes: Little things like how the BSG universe economy work makes me curious. I had to write something for it.