three, texture
Title: Walking In
Author: frogfrizz
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica/Voyager Crossover
Pairing: Janeway/Roslin
Rating: G
Challenge: Three
Word count: 100
A/N: I love this pairing beyond words.
Summary: Torres, Seven and Janeway in the mess hall.
She entered their mess hall, aware of how pristine their living conditions were. She welcomed the change, coveted it; breathed and tasted it like the Caprican sea in her dreams.
There were three of them near the view-ports, huddled together over PADDs. One sat painfully straight, speaking in clipped sentences. The other with the ridged forehead, had her hands (and voice) above, beside and under the table.
Roslin’s eyes landed on the last.
Pips of authority. A coffee-scented uniform. Adar’s latent frost when situations called for it.
Roslin stood at the threshold of change.
The Captain. What a curious individual.
=-=-=-=
Title: What Gazes Do
Author: frogfrizz
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica/Voyager Crossover
Pairing: Janeway/Roslin
Rating: G
Challenge: Texture
Word count: 100
Summary: Someone finds Roslin's scrutiny disconcerting.
You notice her right when she walks in. A picture of bemused delight, stopping to assess her location.
Her amusement is only at the edges. To you, she stands ambiguous, toughened by the toils of deep space. Only to soften, perhaps, with touch.
The gaze. You feel it caress the pips on your collar, the maternal quality of your expression as you listen to Seven and B’elanna explain and argue over engineering schematics.
It’s a warm touch. Coffee-like: an unavoidable aroma, opaque, and in this ship, selective of its drinkers.
Your thoughts agitate you and you return to your mug.
Author: frogfrizz
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica/Voyager Crossover
Pairing: Janeway/Roslin
Rating: G
Challenge: Three
Word count: 100
A/N: I love this pairing beyond words.
Summary: Torres, Seven and Janeway in the mess hall.
She entered their mess hall, aware of how pristine their living conditions were. She welcomed the change, coveted it; breathed and tasted it like the Caprican sea in her dreams.
There were three of them near the view-ports, huddled together over PADDs. One sat painfully straight, speaking in clipped sentences. The other with the ridged forehead, had her hands (and voice) above, beside and under the table.
Roslin’s eyes landed on the last.
Pips of authority. A coffee-scented uniform. Adar’s latent frost when situations called for it.
Roslin stood at the threshold of change.
The Captain. What a curious individual.
=-=-=-=
Title: What Gazes Do
Author: frogfrizz
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica/Voyager Crossover
Pairing: Janeway/Roslin
Rating: G
Challenge: Texture
Word count: 100
Summary: Someone finds Roslin's scrutiny disconcerting.
You notice her right when she walks in. A picture of bemused delight, stopping to assess her location.
Her amusement is only at the edges. To you, she stands ambiguous, toughened by the toils of deep space. Only to soften, perhaps, with touch.
The gaze. You feel it caress the pips on your collar, the maternal quality of your expression as you listen to Seven and B’elanna explain and argue over engineering schematics.
It’s a warm touch. Coffee-like: an unavoidable aroma, opaque, and in this ship, selective of its drinkers.
Your thoughts agitate you and you return to your mug.