BSG Fanfic: The Honeymoon
A new BSG fic that's been haunting me for a while now... would appreciate feedback before I post on
beyond_insane.
Some Lee/Kara silliness...
Nothing explicit but some adult humour M15
A raptor docks on the landing bay on board the Rising Star. Sprawling in large letters on its rear are the words: Just Married. The couple, to which that title is directed, disembarks from the aforementioned raptor wearied by the day’s festivities, only to be greeted enthusiastically by an entourage of smiling suits. The dismay on the faces of the newly-weds are unmistakable but strangely enough it fails to register with the leader of the entourage. All thoughts of a quiet entry go out the airlock.
“Captain Thrace… Major Adama… Welcome … May I say that it is an honour to have you both on board the Rising Star and on such an auspicious occasion. Congratulations to you both. ”
Good Lords who are all these people… I thought we left them all behind…
“Thank you… but you really didn’t all have to come and meet us. ”
“Of course, we did. It’s not often that we get such distinguished guests. Besides, the president insisted that we offer you every arrear of courtesy during your stay here.”
“He did. Did he?” Frak, all we wanted was a quiet weekend away… and we get stuck with a committee… “Remind me dear to return the favour when we see him next…” Somebody shoot him.
The unblushing bride nods and offers something resembling a mixture of a groan and a profanity as a response. She seems uncharacteristically uncommunicative. In fact she looks characteristically ready to commit acts of violence.
None of this, however, distresses the good-natured concierge whose demeanour seems oblivious to the less than happy looks of the not-so happy couple. The unflappable demeanour cultivated over a period of three decades, has shaken hands with Presidents, celebrities and the like. It is doubtful that even an encounter with a centurion would stir that picture of affability. There is a moment of silence and of course, good breeding dictates that someone break it…
The groom in question makes a feeble attempt at a smile, “We’re very tired and would like to make our way to our room immediately.”
“Of course, of course… You must be tired after such a long day. We have your room ready and I’m sure you’ll be pleased with it. Please… come with me."
Yes, please. Thank you. Finally.
The newly weds heave a sigh of relief as they head towards an exit resembling the splendour of a Corinthian arch. Following closely behind, is the accompanying bridal party all characterized by the same affable smile. All exact replicas in varying shapes and sizes of the one leading the way.
Where did they find all these people?
In all honesty, the bride and the bridegroom are too weighed down by sheer exhaustion to wonder out loud or wait for the answer. All hope of a reprieve, however, are soon ended when they file into an enormous room filled with more affability. There’s more cheering and clapping… plenty of smiles and the couple in question conceal their growing frustrations and meet their public. Everyone, it seems, wants to shake their hand. They, on the other hand, are ready to throttle someone.
Since when did we become frakking celebrities? OK… so we’ve saved humanity a few times and now everyone wants to gatecrash our honeymoon?!
The happy couple grow weary of smiling… They grow desperate for the refuge of their elusive room. As they wander through the fanfare, they begin to crave their bunks in the Galactica. Cramped conditions never sounded so inviting. But as their guide continues to wade through a labyrinth of well-wishers, they decide it would be wise to continue following this imperturbable creature. Escape doesn’t appear to be an option… just more walking and fawning attentiveness.
After what seems like forever, the couple are led through a white ornate door. They are relieved but have little time to observe their surroundings. Their relief is short-lived when their guide interrupts whatever thoughts they are having and informs them that they have been given the best room, one exclusively set aside for “special guests”. He reminisces that President Adar once took residence in this room but alas poor man… may the gods rest his soul. After more reminiscing he gradually remembers that he is in honoured company and turns to look at them expectantly.
Our couple feels obligated to be grateful… not because they aren’t but they are relieved that they are finally able to rest their weary bodies and escape the excessive regard of their garrulous host.
“Will that be all…?”
“ Yes, thank you…”
“Let me say once again, that it is a privilege… yes, a privilege… having you both with us. If there’s anything, anything at all that I can do, don’t hesitate to ask…”
“Of course, of course”
Good gods, aren’t you going to leave now?
After some non-essential discourse with their obsequious host, he takes his leave. The couple are more than happy to see the back of him. They can finally allow themselves the luxury of a yawn.
It’s about time.
“I thought the man would never leave…”
“What was that you said earlier? You called me ‘dear’…? Lee Adama dared call me ‘dear’… We’ve been married for six frakking hours and already you’re treating me like I’m your old lady.”
“I wouldn’t dare…, “ he remarked in mocking deference, “Besides, I live in fear and trepidation that the old lady might withhold conjugal rights on our wedding night if I did,” he adds mischievously.
“That’s it flyboy… you sleep on the couch tonight…”
“Why, my dearest… I’m touched… Married for six hours and already we're behaving like an old married couple.”
“That’s enough out of you… Apollo… Do you or do you not want your conjugal rights?”
“Well, it all depends…”
“On what…?”
“On who is doing the offering…”
“Well, there’s no one else here…”
“Yes, indeed… There’s no one else here. Isn’t that a glorious thought… Let’s ponder over that wonderful notion for a moment or two…”
His easy manner markedly changes to one of increasing intensity. He stretches his hand out and gently touches her face. He has waited such a long time for their relationship to gain legitimacy. For it to be out of the scrutiny of public eye. If only for a brief moment.
“I think I must be the luckiest man in the world to be alone with the most incredible woman in the universe.”
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough thinking for one day?…”
She reaches out and with her lips gently stokes his. He responds in kind. Their gentle kisses turn into longing and then into devastating desire. In between gasps and frantic movements, husband and wife rediscover one another.
“Templum quam dilecta…”*
“So how about it flyboy… conjugal rights… Starbuck Special…”
“I could never say no to that…” he murmurs.
“Then don’t ever… and Apollo…”
“Yes, Starbuck…”
“Don’t ever call me “dear” again…”
"Meus carus EGO sum vestri impero"^
*How beautiful is your temple…
^My beloved I am yours to command
Some Lee/Kara silliness...
Nothing explicit but some adult humour M15
A raptor docks on the landing bay on board the Rising Star. Sprawling in large letters on its rear are the words: Just Married. The couple, to which that title is directed, disembarks from the aforementioned raptor wearied by the day’s festivities, only to be greeted enthusiastically by an entourage of smiling suits. The dismay on the faces of the newly-weds are unmistakable but strangely enough it fails to register with the leader of the entourage. All thoughts of a quiet entry go out the airlock.
“Captain Thrace… Major Adama… Welcome … May I say that it is an honour to have you both on board the Rising Star and on such an auspicious occasion. Congratulations to you both. ”
Good Lords who are all these people… I thought we left them all behind…
“Thank you… but you really didn’t all have to come and meet us. ”
“Of course, we did. It’s not often that we get such distinguished guests. Besides, the president insisted that we offer you every arrear of courtesy during your stay here.”
“He did. Did he?” Frak, all we wanted was a quiet weekend away… and we get stuck with a committee… “Remind me dear to return the favour when we see him next…” Somebody shoot him.
The unblushing bride nods and offers something resembling a mixture of a groan and a profanity as a response. She seems uncharacteristically uncommunicative. In fact she looks characteristically ready to commit acts of violence.
None of this, however, distresses the good-natured concierge whose demeanour seems oblivious to the less than happy looks of the not-so happy couple. The unflappable demeanour cultivated over a period of three decades, has shaken hands with Presidents, celebrities and the like. It is doubtful that even an encounter with a centurion would stir that picture of affability. There is a moment of silence and of course, good breeding dictates that someone break it…
The groom in question makes a feeble attempt at a smile, “We’re very tired and would like to make our way to our room immediately.”
“Of course, of course… You must be tired after such a long day. We have your room ready and I’m sure you’ll be pleased with it. Please… come with me."
Yes, please. Thank you. Finally.
The newly weds heave a sigh of relief as they head towards an exit resembling the splendour of a Corinthian arch. Following closely behind, is the accompanying bridal party all characterized by the same affable smile. All exact replicas in varying shapes and sizes of the one leading the way.
Where did they find all these people?
In all honesty, the bride and the bridegroom are too weighed down by sheer exhaustion to wonder out loud or wait for the answer. All hope of a reprieve, however, are soon ended when they file into an enormous room filled with more affability. There’s more cheering and clapping… plenty of smiles and the couple in question conceal their growing frustrations and meet their public. Everyone, it seems, wants to shake their hand. They, on the other hand, are ready to throttle someone.
Since when did we become frakking celebrities? OK… so we’ve saved humanity a few times and now everyone wants to gatecrash our honeymoon?!
The happy couple grow weary of smiling… They grow desperate for the refuge of their elusive room. As they wander through the fanfare, they begin to crave their bunks in the Galactica. Cramped conditions never sounded so inviting. But as their guide continues to wade through a labyrinth of well-wishers, they decide it would be wise to continue following this imperturbable creature. Escape doesn’t appear to be an option… just more walking and fawning attentiveness.
After what seems like forever, the couple are led through a white ornate door. They are relieved but have little time to observe their surroundings. Their relief is short-lived when their guide interrupts whatever thoughts they are having and informs them that they have been given the best room, one exclusively set aside for “special guests”. He reminisces that President Adar once took residence in this room but alas poor man… may the gods rest his soul. After more reminiscing he gradually remembers that he is in honoured company and turns to look at them expectantly.
Our couple feels obligated to be grateful… not because they aren’t but they are relieved that they are finally able to rest their weary bodies and escape the excessive regard of their garrulous host.
“Will that be all…?”
“ Yes, thank you…”
“Let me say once again, that it is a privilege… yes, a privilege… having you both with us. If there’s anything, anything at all that I can do, don’t hesitate to ask…”
“Of course, of course”
Good gods, aren’t you going to leave now?
After some non-essential discourse with their obsequious host, he takes his leave. The couple are more than happy to see the back of him. They can finally allow themselves the luxury of a yawn.
It’s about time.
“I thought the man would never leave…”
“What was that you said earlier? You called me ‘dear’…? Lee Adama dared call me ‘dear’… We’ve been married for six frakking hours and already you’re treating me like I’m your old lady.”
“I wouldn’t dare…, “ he remarked in mocking deference, “Besides, I live in fear and trepidation that the old lady might withhold conjugal rights on our wedding night if I did,” he adds mischievously.
“That’s it flyboy… you sleep on the couch tonight…”
“Why, my dearest… I’m touched… Married for six hours and already we're behaving like an old married couple.”
“That’s enough out of you… Apollo… Do you or do you not want your conjugal rights?”
“Well, it all depends…”
“On what…?”
“On who is doing the offering…”
“Well, there’s no one else here…”
“Yes, indeed… There’s no one else here. Isn’t that a glorious thought… Let’s ponder over that wonderful notion for a moment or two…”
His easy manner markedly changes to one of increasing intensity. He stretches his hand out and gently touches her face. He has waited such a long time for their relationship to gain legitimacy. For it to be out of the scrutiny of public eye. If only for a brief moment.
“I think I must be the luckiest man in the world to be alone with the most incredible woman in the universe.”
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough thinking for one day?…”
She reaches out and with her lips gently stokes his. He responds in kind. Their gentle kisses turn into longing and then into devastating desire. In between gasps and frantic movements, husband and wife rediscover one another.
“Templum quam dilecta…”*
“So how about it flyboy… conjugal rights… Starbuck Special…”
“I could never say no to that…” he murmurs.
“Then don’t ever… and Apollo…”
“Yes, Starbuck…”
“Don’t ever call me “dear” again…”
"Meus carus EGO sum vestri impero"^
*How beautiful is your temple…
^My beloved I am yours to command