The Gold and the Grey
Title: The Gold and the Grey
Date posted: 11-08-09
Fandom: BSG
Disclaimer: These fine characters belong to NBC-Universal and whatnot.
Spoilers: For the New Caprica arc, I guess? Kind of.
Notes: And the sun, it was gold, though the sky, it was grey
And she wanted more than she ever could say
But she knew how it frightened her, and she turned away
- The Queen and the Soldier, Suzanne Vega
Most mornings Caprica wakes before Gaius, and she studies him and catalogs his progress: she is trying to heal him with white pills and gentle touches, to return him to the man she loved so long ago. This is mostly for his sake, but also for hers. She loves the man that she is with, weak with fault lines though he is, but yearns for the one lost to her. On mornings when pity swells beyond the bounds of love she slips from his side and goes for a walk. If this happens with greater frequency as time goes on, she doesn't let herself dwell on it.
In the light of dawn New Caprica is almost pretty; the newness of the day making the mud seem quaint, the stirrings of its inhabitants endearing. She stays on the periphery, where the mud is thickest and the most unfortunate people live- those without families, the outcasts, the freaks. The tent that passes for a hospital is also out here, but that is a coincidence. In the distance the landed ships lay quiet like sleeping beasts, and further beyond them are her people's attempt to build security for the humans. She likes their bracing figures of these shapes against the sky, grounding them to this place. She likes that the ships will remain on the surface, and that the buildings will tether them here and improve their situation. She likes that the water plant is operational, and that instances of illness due to bad water is dropping; she likes that she is reunited with Gaius.
Two things happen out of the ordinary on this walk: one, the settlement's mascot hears her coming and leaps up, leaving muddy paw prints on her waist; two, she sees the golden head of a little girl walking unsteadily by the ships.
"Jake," she scolds quietly, stepping back from the dog as she tries to brush the dirt from her pants. Caprica tries to return unmarked from these walks, as if they were a secret. She likes to think that Gaius would care if he knew- ask her to stop, or beg her to be careful- but knows he wouldn't say anything, about her absence or her safety. This is not a lack of affection, she thinks, but the reality: he thinks his opinion doesn't matter.
She's unsatisfied with her work, as the paw prints are clearly visible, but she pets Jake's head anyway, avoiding his licks and scratching his ears. When she bends to reach under his chin she sees the flare of light bouncing off a little girl's hair
Caprica has never seen a child this far from the center of the settlement. She's sure some of the older children run to play out here in an effort to court danger, and some must come to see Cottle, but she has never once seen one, and certainly not alone.
The little girl appears to be two or three, and she's leaping from one side of a puddle to the next, mouth moving in what appears to be a song. There's mud splashed up her little legs, and her nose is red with cold.
"Be a good boy, Jake," Caprica says absently to the dog as she straightens up. There are no other adults around.
The little girl doesn't look up until Caprica is close enough to touch her. "Hello," Caprica says softly, and the child peers from underneath tousled blonde curls. Her face is heartbreakingly sweet. "Where is your mother, little one?"
Her response is a wrinkled nose and a mischievous smile. Caprica crouches in front of her. "It's cold this morning, isn't it?" This time she gets a nod, and a small smile. Caprica knows that she needs to return this girl to her parents, but doesn't know how to do it. Despite their best efforts, the Cylons are seen as little more than occupiers, and the sight of a Cylon with a human child would be cause for distress, if not outright dissent. Taking the child back with her to the Colonial One would make sense, but getting the word out would be difficult. The fledgling police force might be able to help, but the masks make Caprica uncomfortable herself, and she can't imagine handing a child over to them would be any less horrifying.
The little girl is twisting her hands in her shirt, looking at Caprica expectantly. Caprica stands to look around, hands out to take the girl, when she sees the hospital. Surely that's the best place. She's only met the doctor once- a gruff man who treats Cylons as fairly as he does human- but he is revered throughout the community. He might know who the child belongs to, or could find out. Leaving her there might cause some disruption to his daily routine, but it will be a less offensive move than taking the child to the seat of the much-maligned government. Yes, the hospital is a good idea.
"Let's go inside," she says to the girl, taking her hand, but the child looks at her askance. Judging by the amount of light, Caprica needs to be getting back to the Colonial One herself, and has no time to waste. Gaius needs his pills and a steady hand to hold the water glass, and it was her responsibility to take care of him. She picks the little girl up, expecting cries or complaints, but instead she curls a hand under Caprica's collar and looks around, seemingly pleased with her new vantage point.
The child's weight is warm and comforting, muddy ankles around her waist and all, and Caprica's longing for a child of her own strikes her unexpectedly: a pang so strong she almost cries right there. Even talking to Gaius about children now would be a misstep, she knows, but it doesn't quell the ache within. "You're a very pretty girl," Caprica says, and the little girl smiles broadly.
She is walking towards the hospital, marveling at how humans can take such a miracle for granted, when a Two approaches.
"Good morning, Six," he says pleasantly, "What do we have here?"
"Good morning, Leoben," she replies. The Leoben is looking at the child very carefully. "I found her wandering around the camp this morning. I don't think she's old enough to know where she lives; I was taking her to Cottle."
The Leoben looks up at her sharply. "Is she hurt?"
"No. I thought he might know her family." The face Leoben is displaying is not one Caprica feels comfortable with, though she can't put her finger on why. She thinks that this is the one who was also in love with a human, a pilot, but the Twos are a much more unified line than the Sixes, and she can't know for certain.
"I know her family," he says finally. "We installed a water line near her tent last week. Her name is Kacey."
At her name, the little girl looked up at Leoben and gave him a small smile. He returned the smile before looking to Caprica. "If you like, I could take her back to her mother."
Caprica would like to take her there herself, but the sun is higher, and Gaius needs her. "That would be very kind, Leoben, thank you." He takes Kacey from her, one arm supporting the slight weight easily, and walks along the edge of the camp, talking softly. Kacey looks over his shoulder and waves- Leoben's bidding, she imagines- and Caprica raises a hand before turning back to the Colonial One.
Inside, Gaius is just stirring, frowning as though already displeased with the day. She takes out two of his pills and fills a glass with water. "Here," she says softly, lovingly, and she slips the pills between his lips before the sun can touch his face, holding the glass of water up to him. In this moment, if she manipulates things well enough, she can get Gaius to stay where he is for a moment, allowing her to hold him close.
"You're freezing," he mumbles as she kisses his forehead, his temple, his cheek, one hand pushing his hair back.
"Good morning," she whispers as she nuzzles his face, his skin warm. When he kisses her back it is a blessing, the only one she can expect right now.
Date posted: 11-08-09
Fandom: BSG
Disclaimer: These fine characters belong to NBC-Universal and whatnot.
Spoilers: For the New Caprica arc, I guess? Kind of.
Notes: And the sun, it was gold, though the sky, it was grey
And she wanted more than she ever could say
But she knew how it frightened her, and she turned away
- The Queen and the Soldier, Suzanne Vega
Most mornings Caprica wakes before Gaius, and she studies him and catalogs his progress: she is trying to heal him with white pills and gentle touches, to return him to the man she loved so long ago. This is mostly for his sake, but also for hers. She loves the man that she is with, weak with fault lines though he is, but yearns for the one lost to her. On mornings when pity swells beyond the bounds of love she slips from his side and goes for a walk. If this happens with greater frequency as time goes on, she doesn't let herself dwell on it.
In the light of dawn New Caprica is almost pretty; the newness of the day making the mud seem quaint, the stirrings of its inhabitants endearing. She stays on the periphery, where the mud is thickest and the most unfortunate people live- those without families, the outcasts, the freaks. The tent that passes for a hospital is also out here, but that is a coincidence. In the distance the landed ships lay quiet like sleeping beasts, and further beyond them are her people's attempt to build security for the humans. She likes their bracing figures of these shapes against the sky, grounding them to this place. She likes that the ships will remain on the surface, and that the buildings will tether them here and improve their situation. She likes that the water plant is operational, and that instances of illness due to bad water is dropping; she likes that she is reunited with Gaius.
Two things happen out of the ordinary on this walk: one, the settlement's mascot hears her coming and leaps up, leaving muddy paw prints on her waist; two, she sees the golden head of a little girl walking unsteadily by the ships.
"Jake," she scolds quietly, stepping back from the dog as she tries to brush the dirt from her pants. Caprica tries to return unmarked from these walks, as if they were a secret. She likes to think that Gaius would care if he knew- ask her to stop, or beg her to be careful- but knows he wouldn't say anything, about her absence or her safety. This is not a lack of affection, she thinks, but the reality: he thinks his opinion doesn't matter.
She's unsatisfied with her work, as the paw prints are clearly visible, but she pets Jake's head anyway, avoiding his licks and scratching his ears. When she bends to reach under his chin she sees the flare of light bouncing off a little girl's hair
Caprica has never seen a child this far from the center of the settlement. She's sure some of the older children run to play out here in an effort to court danger, and some must come to see Cottle, but she has never once seen one, and certainly not alone.
The little girl appears to be two or three, and she's leaping from one side of a puddle to the next, mouth moving in what appears to be a song. There's mud splashed up her little legs, and her nose is red with cold.
"Be a good boy, Jake," Caprica says absently to the dog as she straightens up. There are no other adults around.
The little girl doesn't look up until Caprica is close enough to touch her. "Hello," Caprica says softly, and the child peers from underneath tousled blonde curls. Her face is heartbreakingly sweet. "Where is your mother, little one?"
Her response is a wrinkled nose and a mischievous smile. Caprica crouches in front of her. "It's cold this morning, isn't it?" This time she gets a nod, and a small smile. Caprica knows that she needs to return this girl to her parents, but doesn't know how to do it. Despite their best efforts, the Cylons are seen as little more than occupiers, and the sight of a Cylon with a human child would be cause for distress, if not outright dissent. Taking the child back with her to the Colonial One would make sense, but getting the word out would be difficult. The fledgling police force might be able to help, but the masks make Caprica uncomfortable herself, and she can't imagine handing a child over to them would be any less horrifying.
The little girl is twisting her hands in her shirt, looking at Caprica expectantly. Caprica stands to look around, hands out to take the girl, when she sees the hospital. Surely that's the best place. She's only met the doctor once- a gruff man who treats Cylons as fairly as he does human- but he is revered throughout the community. He might know who the child belongs to, or could find out. Leaving her there might cause some disruption to his daily routine, but it will be a less offensive move than taking the child to the seat of the much-maligned government. Yes, the hospital is a good idea.
"Let's go inside," she says to the girl, taking her hand, but the child looks at her askance. Judging by the amount of light, Caprica needs to be getting back to the Colonial One herself, and has no time to waste. Gaius needs his pills and a steady hand to hold the water glass, and it was her responsibility to take care of him. She picks the little girl up, expecting cries or complaints, but instead she curls a hand under Caprica's collar and looks around, seemingly pleased with her new vantage point.
The child's weight is warm and comforting, muddy ankles around her waist and all, and Caprica's longing for a child of her own strikes her unexpectedly: a pang so strong she almost cries right there. Even talking to Gaius about children now would be a misstep, she knows, but it doesn't quell the ache within. "You're a very pretty girl," Caprica says, and the little girl smiles broadly.
She is walking towards the hospital, marveling at how humans can take such a miracle for granted, when a Two approaches.
"Good morning, Six," he says pleasantly, "What do we have here?"
"Good morning, Leoben," she replies. The Leoben is looking at the child very carefully. "I found her wandering around the camp this morning. I don't think she's old enough to know where she lives; I was taking her to Cottle."
The Leoben looks up at her sharply. "Is she hurt?"
"No. I thought he might know her family." The face Leoben is displaying is not one Caprica feels comfortable with, though she can't put her finger on why. She thinks that this is the one who was also in love with a human, a pilot, but the Twos are a much more unified line than the Sixes, and she can't know for certain.
"I know her family," he says finally. "We installed a water line near her tent last week. Her name is Kacey."
At her name, the little girl looked up at Leoben and gave him a small smile. He returned the smile before looking to Caprica. "If you like, I could take her back to her mother."
Caprica would like to take her there herself, but the sun is higher, and Gaius needs her. "That would be very kind, Leoben, thank you." He takes Kacey from her, one arm supporting the slight weight easily, and walks along the edge of the camp, talking softly. Kacey looks over his shoulder and waves- Leoben's bidding, she imagines- and Caprica raises a hand before turning back to the Colonial One.
Inside, Gaius is just stirring, frowning as though already displeased with the day. She takes out two of his pills and fills a glass with water. "Here," she says softly, lovingly, and she slips the pills between his lips before the sun can touch his face, holding the glass of water up to him. In this moment, if she manipulates things well enough, she can get Gaius to stay where he is for a moment, allowing her to hold him close.
"You're freezing," he mumbles as she kisses his forehead, his temple, his cheek, one hand pushing his hair back.
"Good morning," she whispers as she nuzzles his face, his skin warm. When he kisses her back it is a blessing, the only one she can expect right now.