(no subject)
Eight fics from a meme at my LJ that went "give me a pairing and an AU situation and I'll write three or more sentences for it." Most wound up being a lot longer.
Title: First date
Date posted: 09-06-11
Fandom: BSG
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Characters: Laura, Bill
Notes: Prompted by whatever_lj, who requested "Adama & Roslin at a bowling alley."
When Bill Adama had asked her out, Laura had ideas of how the evening would go- nice dinner in a reputable restaurant, perhaps a stroll down by the water. She had dressed up for this, a new red dress, her hair teased and glorious after hours of work, strands of pearls.
And here she was, in terrible fluorescent lighting and even worse bowling shoes, having the best date of her life.
Title: Front Row
Date posted: 09-06-11
Fandom: Alias
Word count: 700
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead ABC.
Characters: Syd, Nadia, Sark; mentions of Irina, Jack, Sloane and Vaughn.
Notes: Prompted by yahtzee63, who requested "Alias, the fashion industry."
Meeting her sister for lunch was always a pleasure, Sydney thought to herself, but less so when the paparazzi crowded around the door awaiting their every move.
"So sorry I'm late," Nadia said as she slid into her seat across the table, cameras flashing outside the window. Sydney would prefer to sit further inside the restaurant, but Nadia had pointed out that it was free publicity for everyone and that was nothing to turn down. "Mom wanted me to bring her the final copy before she leaves, but of course nothing's done because everyone's en route to London. It's going to be a lovely afternoon."
"What time is your flight?" Sydney asked, spearing a leaf of lettuce and eyeing her sister's perfect peach cropped leather jacket. It was February, but her sister never dressed for the weather.
"Eight tonight," Nadia said, and then ordered only a water and lemon. Nadia had never done runway work, but she had all the sense of someone raised in the fashion industry. "Can you give me any scoop on the new line?"
"You'll see it with everyone else," Sydney said in case anyone was listening, but anyone who knew anything about fashion knew that Front Row always had exclusives on the Bristow line. Sydney's father Jack had become the head designer and creative director for the fashion house Donovan only five years before her mother had become the editor-in-chief of Front Row, and while their divorce had been slightly acrimonious at the time, it had mellowed into an understanding that their line of work required them to tolerate one another- especially when Sydney joined Donovan as a designer after retiring from modelling at twenty-five. Nadia, who had more experience in high fashion print-work in one year than most models had in five, had quit in order to work as an fashion news director with their mother. Of course, had she wanted to walk in shows for the house her father designed and directed, Rambaldi, she could have, the same as she could have joined the ranks as a creative designer there, but Nadia enjoyed editing far more than sketching.
"Of course," Nadia replied. "How do you think it will go tomorrow?"
She meant at the opening parties for London Fashion Week, where both their fathers and mother would be in attendance. There hadn't yet been anything embarrassing, but there was always the chance. Jack Bristow and Arvin Sloane had been the closest of friends and sometimes still were, especially when their mother was on another continent, but Irina Derevko was often present, and the press ached for a chance to see sparks fly.
"I hope it will go well." If it didn't it would fall to them to make peace, and neither wanted that. "Are you planning on bringing the purple suede Louboutins?"
"Hadn't planned on it," Nadia said, accepting her water from the waitress with the same heartbreaking smile that had graced so many ad campaigns, "Do you want me to?"
Sydney nodded. “I think they’ll look great with the white dress.”
Nadia smiled knowingly. “You want to look especially good because Michael Vaughn is going to be at the Paris shows.”
“Shut up,” Sydney said, immediately blushing at the mention of the head of Front Row’s Paris public relations office. “He’ll be there, I’ll be there. It’s not a big deal.”
“Oh no. Not at all.”
“Don’t you have a magazine to write or something?”
“What time is your plane?” Nadia asked, squeezing the lemon into her water.
“Eleven tonight. Late meeting.”
“Well, I can send the shoes over to your office if you want-” Nadia was interrupted when a particularly bold photographer came to the table.
“Just one shot,” Sark, the fashion and celebrity gossip blogger pleaded, and Sydney was wondering how hard it would be to injure him without scuffing the patent leather of her heels when Nadia cooed an acquiescence.
“It’s just business,” Nadia said to her as they put their heads together to smile. “Better to have him as a friend than an enemy.”
It could be that her sister was right.
Title: Charm
Date posted: 09-06-11
Fandom: BSG
Word count: 1035
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Characters: Caprica, Gaius, Cavil.
Notes: Prompted by nicole_anell, who asked for "Gaius and Caprica, old Hollywood"
When the ingénue Caprica Sexton appeared at the top of the staircase in a shimmering gold dress, a hush fell over the room. She was the newest and brightest star at Kobol Studios, and that night's party was in her honor. At the foot of the stairs waited her manager, John Cavil, and beyond that, throngs of important people in Hollywood, directors and producers and potential cast mates and everything was so wonderful that Caprica stood frozen for a moment, drinking in the sight before her. They were all there for her.
She walked down the stairs, her head held high. She had a diamond necklace that John had arranged for her to borrow around her neck, and three diamond hairpins holding back some of her platinum curls. She smiled wider when she reached the bottom safely, and before taking John's elbow, she gave an exaggerated curtsy, much to the delight of the crowd.
"Charming, charming," John said as he linked her gloved forearm with his own. "Don't go overboard, now."
"They liked it," Caprica protested, trying not to sound hurt. John had a way of saying things so that they cut her to the bone.
"You want to be cute, but not too cute. You're not here for comedy, you're here to make them love you."
Caprica didn't necessarily see the two as mutually exclusive, but she didn't want to argue with John, not tonight.
He led her to a cluster of people who were fawning over a handsome, dark-haired man. "Caprica Sexton," he said, releasing her arm, "this is Gaius Baltar. He's an executive producer at Kobol."
Gaius Baltar took her hand and looked right into her eyes. "Enchanted, Miss Sexton."
Light-headed, Caprica managed to squeeze his fingers. "The pleasure's all mine."
John and the others seemed to disperse into thin air as Caprica assessed the man John felt was important enough for her to meet first this evening. He was impeccably dressed, with fine, patrician features, and though he was shorter than she was, he seemed not to care at all. At her height, Caprica had dealt with men's insecurities for years and had a sense for them- this man had none at all.
"Are you enjoying the party, Mr Baltar?" Caprica asked, as Mr Baltar turned to grab two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter.
"Do call me Gaius," he replied, passing her the glass, his fingers brushing against hers. "And the better question is, are you enjoying it, Miss Sexton? It is in your honor.”
Caprica blushed. “Very much... Gaius.” She took a sip of her champagne and glanced around the room, hoping to hide how much she was enjoying his company. “If we’re dropping formalities, you may call me Caprica.”
He repeated her name as he looked at her, and then nodded. “It suits you.”
“My name?” she asked in surprise. It had always been thought of as strange and nearly off-putting in the classroom.
“It brings to mind luxury, and that is what you mean to convey. It’s why our business thrives. No one wants an ordinary girl up there on the screen.”
It was hard to remember that Caprica herself wasn’t an ordinary girl, but she supposed that ordinary girls weren’t attending parties in their honor tonight, wearing diamonds and furs and meeting fascinating and important people. She was a long way from her farm back in Wisconsin.
Gaius talked to her more about the industry- vague, sweeping thoughts about where it was headed, and Caprica’s place in it- and then asked, “Would you like to go someplace quieter?”
Not too many boys had ever built up the nerve to ask her that, and Caprica realized that being around Gaius gave her a pleasant buzz of happiness, more than champagne alone. She knew that John would be looking for her if she was gone too long, but at that moment she wanted nothing more than to sit and talk with Gaius. “Yes, please.”
The night air was cool and pleasant and scented with gardenias. Gaius took her hand and led her to the edge of the garden, where it dropped off in a sheer cliff and the water crashed against the rocks and sand beneath. The moonlight bounced off the waves and her diamonds, and when she turned back to Gaius, her face alight with wonder, he kissed her long and hard. His hands at her back were both desperate and reverent, and there was something in her that knew that despite the personal agony it caused to pull away, it would be better if she did.
“What are you doing?” He asked, diving in for another kiss, which Caprica greeted shallowly.
“Depriving you,” she teased, and John’s words “you’re not here for comedy” rang in her ears in the seconds it took Gaius to react. At first she wasn’t sure if he was angry, but to her relief he smiled.
“That’s for sure.” He sounded almost amazed, like no one had ever thought to leave him wanting more before, and Caprica suddenly felt very powerful.
“I need to fix my lipstick,” she told him, stepping back and guiding his hands back to his sides. “And you might want to freshen up as well.”
“And then what?” He sounded impatient, but not with her- because of her.
“Then we’ll dance,” she answered, tilting her head just like she did for her head shot, “Because it’s my party, and I want to.”
“It is yours,” he agreed, and flashed a rakish smile that left Caprica weak in the knees and regretting her decision to pull away. He motioned her ahead of him, and when Caprica saw her lips kissed clean of color in the bathroom mirror she felt exhilarated
The band leader noticed when she returned to the room, perfectly made up, and he abruptly stopped the song the band had been playing to start the theme to new film, and John was looking at her like he was angry but before he could reach her Gaius was holding out his arms and asking her to dance, and everything was perfect once more.
Title: The Justice League
Date posted: 09-06-11
Fandom: BSG
Word count: 940
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Characters: Natalie, Lee
Notes: Prompted by amaliak, who said: "hmmmm well you know me, babe. I WANT NATALIE/LEE!!!! I WANT THEM TO BE LAWYERS IN NYC (Nat is a DA and Leland works pro-bono activist type stuff...ie lost causes.). I WANT HAPPINESS AND PUPPIES. FRAKKING PUPPIES."
Their goal is to have lunch together three times a week- more, if possible, but at least three. Today is Thursday, and Natalie is just thinking about how she’s going to have to text her husband to ask what he’s thinking about eating when he bursts through her office door over her secretary’s protests.
“Unbelievable!” he’s shouting, as Meredith apologizes profusely to Natalie and hovers anxiously, not wanting to touch the angerball that’s seething before her. “Completely unconscionable!”
“It’s okay, Meredith, thank you,” Natalie says quickly, going over to her husband. Meredith wastes no time ducking out. “What’s unbelievable?”
“Do you know that the ozone layer is disappearing, Natalie? Do you?”
There’s nothing to be done when he’s in one of these rants. “I do, honey. Do you want to sit down?”
“I can’t sit down, I’m too angry. Do you know the consequences of global warming?”
Natalie nodded.
“That’s because everyone does! Everyone knows it’s bad, but no one wants to do anything about it.”
“Well, some people do-”
“No one in a position to actually change things! What about the polar bears?”
“Baby, I think you’re maybe moving away from the point-”
“I am not moving away from the point. The ice caps are melting, Nat, melting-”
“Lee.”
“... And the polar bears are losing their habitats and the global temperature is rising...”
“Lee?”
“... And air quality is going to hell...”
“Lee!”
As usual, her loud-enough-to-be-heard-round-the-courtroom voice has stopped him, and he sighs and runs a restless hand through his hair. “It’s really frustrating.”
Natalie nods. “I know. Come sit down.”
Meredith isn’t going to let anyone in after that display, so she has no qualms about sitting on Lee’s lap once he’s seated. Though working for the NRDC was Lee’s dream in law school, the realities of the up-hill battles he faces on a daily basis is hard on him. She wraps one arm around his shoulders and uses the other to ruffle his hair back into place. “Rough day?”
“We have some really big wins, right? We have the power to make the EPA change things, or stop oil drilling, or get animals on the endangered species list-”
“Like polar bears,” Natalie interjects.
“Yes, like polar bears, but then there are years of roadblocks and nothing happening and things just getting worse.”
“It’s not true that nothing’s happening,” she protests. “You’re building your cases. You get these victories because of your preparation, and you win against massive industries. You should be proud, Lee.”
He nods. “I know. And I am. But while we’re building cases...”
“You can’t be responsible for the whole world, Lee,” Natalie chides him. “You can’t fly up and fix the ozone layer in your invisible plane like Superman.”
“Wonder Woman.”
“What?”
“Superman could just fly, Wonder Woman had the invisible plane.”
Natalie waves a hand. “Well, you can’t fly up like either of them.”
Lee looks thoughtful. “It’d be kind of useful to have a lasso of truth, though.”
“Which one had that?”
“Wonder Woman.”
“She kind of sounds more awesome, I think.”
“Than Superman? Come on.”
“Can you imagine having a lasso of truth in our profession?”
“You pretty much do.” Lee isn’t jealous of Natalie’s impressive number of wins: his wife is a lion in court, and he’s immensely proud of her. She even has an arguably more stressful job than he does, prosecuting criminals who have committed more heinous things than Lee could ever conceive of and pounding their attorneys into the ground with her relentless quest for justice for victims. Natalie hadn’t been named valedictorian of her class due to her looks.
“You’re sweet,” Natalie says, kissing his temple. “But then our jobs wouldn’t be any fun anymore. We’d just win, no arguing required.”
“And we do like to argue.” More than argue, though, Lee likes to kiss his wife, so he takes her chin in his hand and kisses her soundly.
When they’ve finished, Natalie smiles at him and asks, “So, did you come to rant or did you come to treat me to lunch?”
“Treat you?”
Natalie nods. “I mean, you came to pick me up, this is totally a date.”
“Very cute, Nat.”
“So I’ve been told. I’m thinking sushi.”
“You just want to go to Akashi because we can stop by the apartment.”
Natalie shrugs. “I’m unashamed of my priorities. You’d like to see Apollo too.”
Their dog is a year old, an energetic and loving Boxer that they love jogging with in the mornings and on weekends, and the idea of spending an hour with him isn’t unappealing at all. “I would,” Lee agrees, and he stands up, holding Natalie in his arms until she lets out a peal of delighted laughter before putting her down. Sometimes it still takes him by surprise how fiercely he loves her.
She goes around her desk to get her purse, and takes his hand when she returns to his side. “One rule for lunch.”
“What’s that?”
“No mention of polar bears.”
“Harsh. Harsh.”
“Oh, you’ll be fine. There are so many other crises in the world.”
“I know,” he says, opening the door for her. “A lot more. I also want to stem the tide of toxic chemicals.”
“Ooh, baby. That’s the kind of thing I like to hear.”
“Just wait for me to get started on reviving the oceans.”
“I can’t handle it. You’re entirely too attractive right now.”
Lee shrugs easily. “They don’t call us boys at the NRDC studs for nothing.”
Natalie manages to elbow him just before they get in front of Meredith’s desk.
Title: Saoirse
Date posted: 09-07-11
Fandom: BSG
Word count: 595
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Characters: Caprica (Saoirse) Six, Gaius, Leoben, with mentions of Natalie, Sonja, Shelly, among other Cylons.
Notes: Prompted by ivanolix, who prompted "Caprica/Gaius, an AU where Caprica blew off the Plan much earlier"
Six months into her mission, the Six assigned to Caprica and Gaius Baltar realizes she has no desire for her mission to succeed. She starts altering the information she gives over to her brothers little by little, and strengthens the programs Gaius is creating for the Defense Ministry. One day, after five attempts at getting her attention without using her name, she turns to him and says “Saoirse. Saoirse.” She wants him to know and to remember and to hear her name from his mouth.
For a moment he looks taken aback, and then he rolls his eyes, as though she’s being silly. “I knew that,” he said, more for his benefit than hers. “Saoirse. The valet brought the car.”
But once he knows it, really knows it and her face and her body and the scent of her skin, he remembers and says it more and more, and Saoirse doubles her efforts to sabotage her mission. She doesn’t want to lose Gaius, to forget the sweet joy she feels when he smiles or the deep desire that overcomes her when he moves his mouth to just under her jaw. All of the humans she’s met have been kind and innocent and undeserving of the fate her siblings have orchestrated, and she can’t imagine that God- God, who believes in love and salvation above all else- wants that fate to be administered. It is His place to judge the humans, not theirs.
She whispers these thoughts to the sibling she is closest to, a Leoben whose yoga class she takes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. “I love him, brother,” she says as they drink smoothies after a class, “Isn’t that what God wants, for us to love?”
Leoben nods, looking troubled. “We have no reason to believe otherwise.”
She puts her hand over his and grips it desperately. “Please, Leoben. Please help me.”
From him, she moves on to her sister Sixes, just as he talks to his brother Twos. It’s easy for Saoirse to make up a business trip that takes her to Gemenon to visit her sister Natalie, to Virgon to see Caroline, to Canceron to talk to Shelly and Libran to see Sonja. Her words are gentle and convincing, and the more it’s discussed, the more sense it makes. God doesn’t want destruction and pain, He wants love and acceptance. They share their ideas with the Eights and some of the less militant Threes, Fours and Fives.
They don’t dare take it to the Ones until significant damage has been done to their efforts- months of misinformation and sabotage honeycombed throughout the Cylon war effort. The day before the attacks are supposed to take place, Natalie, the bravest of them all, calls a meeting and presents the evidence.
Saoirse can’t make it without arousing suspicion, and she spends the entire day in agony. If her efforts were in vain, if Gaius is going to die, she wants to know.
The next morning dawns clear and bright, and Saoirse keeps Gaius from going into work with her affectionate distractions, though she looks out the window for radiation clouds whenever she gets the chance. By mid-afternoon, she’s reasonably sure that everything is going to be all right, and she takes Gaius’s face into her hands and kisses him fiercely.
“What is it, Saoirse?” Her name rolls off his tongue easily, so accustomed is he to saying it. If something happens and she is discovered as an enemy by the humans, he could identify her immediately.
“Nothing,” she says in relief, kissing him again.
Title: Winter is Coming
Date posted: 09-07-11
Fandom: BSG, Game of Thrones
Word count: 1668
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM and GRRM.
Characters: Bill and Tigh, with mentions of Laura, Caprica, Leoben, Doral, D'Anna, Billy, Dee, Kara, Gaeta, Hotdog, Lee, Adar and Ellen.
Notes: Prompted by miabicicletta, who asked for "The Adamas of Winterfell."
When the king rode to Winterfell, the realm followed, in a sea of gold and silver and polished steel. Over their heads banners emblazoned with the crowned stag of the house of Tigh whipped in the northern wind.
William Adama, Lord of Winterfell and protector of the North, knew many of the riders. There came Ser Leoben Cylon, proud in his golden armor and his his hair gleaming in the sun, followed by the fearsome Galen Tyrol, a fierce warrior known for his temper. The tall boy riding beside him could only be the crown prince Liam, and after him, the impish Aaron, known more for his wit than his looks. Yet it was the man riding at the front of the column, flanked by two riders in the brilliant white cloaks of the Kingsguard, who seemed like a stranger to Bill.
Seventeen years earlier, when they had gone south to win a throne, Saul Tigh had been a sight to behold, fierce and hale and any maiden’s fantasy in his armor. The king before him was thin and and bald and drawn-looking, despite his happiness at seeing his old friend. Bill supposed it could be due to the stress of losing his Hand, Lee Nagala, the man who had fostered both Bill and Saul in their childhood. The king dismounted stiffly, and walked over to Bill, looking him over.
“You’ve gotten old,” he judged solemnly, and Bill couldn’t help but give him a look. He had gotten old?
They both held one another’s gaze until Saul started to laugh, and Bill joined in. They embraced like brothers. “It’s good to see that frozen face of yours. It’s been far too long.”
It had been far too long, but Bill was still worried that Saul’s presence was an portent of ill things to come. Laura had suggested as much the night before in her chambers, as they laid curled up under her furs. She respected her friendship with the king but had even less respect for the rest of the royal family than Bill did.
Dispelling these thoughts, Bill said simply, “Your Grace, Winterfell as yours.”
Behind Saul, the others were dismounting. Saul’s queen, Caprica Cylon, entered on foot with her daughter, her wheelhouse being too grand and large to fit through the gates. Saul embraced Laura like a long-lost sister as Bill knelt in the snow to kiss Queen Caprica’s ring.
She was as beautiful as he remembered, and though her beauty was sang of far and wide across the Seven Kingdoms, it had never been exaggerated. There was no need of it. The queen was blessed with a fair countenance, golden curls, and brilliantly blue eyes. If one merely looked at her, she seemed only sweet and harmless.
Bill couldn’t help but feel ill at ease with her, as he always had. Even on the eve of her wedding, when he had been introduced to the then-seventeen year old queen, there had been something about her that had struck Bill as strange. He was certain that she had never had the innocence that his Anastasia or Kara possessed, though he supposed that as a Cylon, she might not have had the chance to cultivate any. No other family was as proud as the Cylons, as evidenced by the bright golden banners that mingled with Saul’s own silver. He also noted that Prince Liam’s doublet was embroidered with both the stag of Tigh and the lion of Cylon, an unusual practice.
Introductions were made between the Tigh children, Prince Liam and Princess D’Anna, and the Adama children, Billy, Anastasia, Kara, Felix and Brendan. Bill’s other son, Lee, wasn’t present to be introduced to the royal children, as Laura had pointed out that the queen would certainly be against her children meeting a bastard. He had gone cold, as he always did when he heard the ice in his wife’s voice when she spoke of his son, but he had agreed. Queen Caprica was unpredictable that way.
“Take me down to your crypt, Bill,” Saul said as soon as the children had made friends, “I want to pay my respects.”
Caprica turned to her husband, her expression cool. “"We've been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait.”
Saul looked at her silently, and to her credit, the queen met his gaze, uncowed. Without a word, Saul walked away, calling back for Bill, and Caprica’s twin Leoben took her quietly by the arm.
Bill loved that Saul always remembered, and led his almost-brother by torchlight down into the Adama family crypt. There were times when Saul might have used this opportunity to make jokes, but he was solemn now, as he was whenever Bill’s sister was mentioned. “She’s down here, Your Grace.”
Though he would never kneel to anyone in life, Saul Tigh knelt before the statue of Ellen Adama, dead before he had taken his crown. She was to have been his bride. “She was more beautiful than that,” Saul said with difficulty, looking up at the lovely stone face in front of him, as though he could bring her back by wanting her enough. He rose with some difficulty, and then shook his head. “Dammit, Bill. Did you have to bury her in a place like this? She deserves more than darkness.”
“She was an Adama of Winterfell,” Bill said quietly. His grief at losing his sister was almost as strong as Saul’s. “This is her place.”
Saul touched the granite of Ellen’s cheek, reverent and gentle. “She should be on a hill someplace. Under sun and clouds and rain to wash her clean...”
“She wanted to come home.”
“I vowed to kill Richard for what he did to her.”
“You did,” Bill reminded him, remembering the day they took the Trident, and the holy fury with which Saul had dispatched Richard Adar to the Seven Hells.
“Only once,” Saul said bitterly. “In my dreams, I kill him every night.”
There was nothing Bill could think to say to that. After a few moments of silence, he said, “We should return, Your Grace. Your wife will be waiting.”
“To hell with my wife,” Saul said, taking his hand back and turning to leave Ellen. “And if I hear one more ‘Your Grace,’ I’ll put your head on a spike. We’re more than that.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Bill told him, though it was more difficult when your friend was the king of the Seven Kingdoms. “Tell me about old Lee.”
Saul shrugged, looking pained again. “The damndest thing, Bill. One day he was fine, and then the next... the fever burned right through him.” He shook his head, his crown reflecting the dull light of the torch. “I loved that man.”
“We both did.” They had spent years in his care.
“Bill,” Saul started, putting an arm around his brother’s shoulders, “You must be wondering why I’ve come here.”
“Your inspection of the Wall is overdue,” Bill suggested, though he had a feeling this was not the case. The Wall was seen now as more of a guardian against nothing, though winter was coming. It was long overdue.
Saul waved the very idea away. “The gods-damned Wall has stood for eight thousand years, and it’ll keep a while longer. Eight thousand years longer. No, Bill, I’ve come north because these are dangerous times, and I need good men around me, men like Lee Nagala. Men like you. I want you down in King’s Landing, not up here where you’re no damn use to anybody.” Taking his arm back, Saul faced him. “Lord William Adama, I would name you Hand of the King.”
As he often did when he was not in a rage, Saul gave his command like he was vaguely embarrassed to be giving it, and wished to hurry it up. Bill couldn’t say he was very surprised, and dropped to one knee.
“I’m not worthy of the honor.”
“If I wanted to honor you, I’d let you retire. You’ll hate this more than you know. I want you to run my kingdom while I drink and whore my way into an early grave.” Saul smiled, happy with his circumstances, as he had every right to be. “You know what they say, about the king and his Hand.”
“‘What the king dreams,’” Bill said, “the Hand builds.’”
“Or, ‘What the king eats, the Hand shits.’” Saul threw his head back with raucous laughter, and it rang down the halls and around the dead Adamas, cloaked in darkness. Bill did not join in.
“Dammit, Bill. You Northerners are too cold for jokes. You helped me win this damn throne, now help me keep it. We would’ve been brothers long since had my Ellen lived, bound by affection as well as by blood. It’s not too late, dammit. I have a son, you have a daughter. We’ll marry Liam and your Anastasia and bound our houses, as Ellen and I might have done.”
The idea pleased Saul, though it startled Bill. “How long have you been planning this?”
Saul looked at him. “How old is your daughter?”
This did earn Saul a laugh. There were worse things than having his daughter wed a prince, though Liam looked entirely too much like the Cylon side of his blood for Bill’s taste. And for Laura’s, he knew without asking.
“Say yes, dammit. Come to King’s Landing. We’ll teach you how to laugh again down south.”
“If I could have some time to consider these honors,” Bill trailed off. Laura would not be pleased with this at all.
“Of course, of course.” Saul clapped an arm around Bill, “Mull over the honors, talk it over with Laura. But don’t keep me waiting too long. Caprica’s itching to appoint her brother, and there’s only so long you can hold off a Cylon. Tenacious, the lot of them.”
That was one word for them, though not the one Bill would’ve chosen.
Title: Shameless
Date posted: 09-06-11
Fandom: BSG
Word count: 414
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Characters: Bill, Laura, Saul and Ellen Tigh
Notes: Prompted by rayruz, who asked for "The Tighs... as former porn stars." This can also be seen as a continuation of 'First Date.'
"There's something you need to know about them," Bill warned Laura as he parked. "The Tighs have a... colorful past."
"A colorful past?" Laura asked, eyebrows raised, "Like they used to be circus performers, or something?"
"That's one way to put it," Bill said as he turned the car off. He looked at Laura seriously. "Saul is my best friend."
"I know," Laura said, putting her hand on his knee. It was the first time she was going to meet this best friend of his, and she wanted to make a good impression. Bill had mentioned being friends with Saul Tigh for over twenty years.
"It might not even come up," Bill said, sounding as though he hoped this would be the case, "But in case it does, try not to shocked. That'll just delight Ellen too much."
"In case what comes up?" Laura asked, but Bill was already getting out of the car. She scrambled to follow him. "In case what comes up?" she repeated, but the front door was opening, and Saul Tigh was wrapping her new boyfriend in a bear hug.
"You must be Laura!" Exclaimed a woman who could only be Ellen Tigh. She was strikingly beautiful if somewhat overdressed for what was supposed to be a casual dinner at home. Laura had chosen crisp jeans and a cashmere sweater; Ellen was wearing a tiny white halter dress that, while flattering, was a bit too young.
She smiled anyway as the woman embraced her. "Hello, Ellen."
"Come in, come in," Ellen said, pulling her past the men, who were talking animatedly and occasionally clapping one another on the arm or back. "It's nippy outside. Would you like something to drink? We're drinking martinis."
Ellen continued past the foyer into the living room, but Laura couldn't move. To her abject horror, there was an life-sized framed photo of Ellen Tigh staring down at her from the top of the stairs- a life-sized nude Ellen Tigh.
"Laura?" Ellen called, peeking her head around the doorway. "There you are."
Tearing her eyes away, Laura scrutinized Ellen's face for embarrassment and found none.
"Oh, I see you saw the artwork. There's more of that around," Ellen said nonchalantly, taking in Laura's expression. "You might want a drink if that sort of thing shocks you."
It turned out, Laura did want a drink. She wanted an even stronger one when she saw the picture over the mantle.
Title: Burning love
Date posted: 09-08-11
Fandom: BSG
Word count: 420
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Characters: Helena Cain and Gina Inviere
Notes: Prompted by sci_fi_shipper, who loves me and asked for "Helena/Gina at a BBQ next to a lake."
“Sweetheart,” Gina asked without opening her eyes, “Do you need any help?”
Helena’s voice floated over the sound of gently lapping waters. “I’ve got it.”
Gina stretched luxuriously, weighing how wise it was to stay put. As delicious as the late afternoon sun felt on her skin, Helena had a tendency to leave Gina’s vegetables on the grill as long as her own steak. “I think a second set of eyes would help,” she countered, sitting up.
The white of her bikini gleamed against her newly-acquired tan as she walked over to the barbecue. Though they could hear the raucous sounds from the more populated side of the lake, the lake house they had chosen was much more peaceful and serene. They had their distance from the large corporate picnics and the squabbles of large families gathering to celebrate while still being able to enjoy the same fireworks as everyone else, unabashedly cuddled up on the grass, or sitting entwined in the hot tub, or holding hands as they floated in the cool water of Lake Pegasus. Helena liked her privacy.
“You don’t trust me,” Helena said as she poured them both a glass of wine.
Gina ministered to her vegetables seriously, taking her glass when offered but immediately putting it down. “I trust you. They’re just easier to burn, and you get distracted-”
“Distracted?” Helena asked, “Distracted by what?”
“Your phone,” Gina deadpanned. “Pyramid scores. Ambient noises. Bugs...”
“You.” Helena finished, snaking an arm around Gina’s waist.
“Me,” Gina agreed, putting her arm over Helena’s. “I’m just taking precautions.”
“And you never get distracted.”
“Not usually.”
Helena clearly took this as a challenge, and she kissed the juncture of Gina’s shoulder and neck as her fingers worried at the edge of Gina’s bathing suit. “No, not you,” she purred, and the combination of her voice and her motions sent shivers down Gina’s spine.
“Now you’re just cheating,” Gina said sensibly, but couldn’t deny that it was harder to keep an eye on the grill with such a tantalizing distraction.
“Not cheating,” Helena clarified as she kissed up Gina’s throat, “Proving a point.”
“Mm.” Gina tilted her head to the side so that Helena could continue, “Which is?”
“You’re just as distractable. Scorch marks.”
“What?”
“Scorch marks.”
Gina looked down to see that her vegetables were in need of rotation, and sported burns. “Dammit, Helena.” She stepped out of Helena’s arms to turn the vegetables. “Totally cheated. Definitely cheated.”
Helena took a sip of her wine and looked completely unapologetic.
Title: First date
Date posted: 09-06-11
Fandom: BSG
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Characters: Laura, Bill
Notes: Prompted by whatever_lj, who requested "Adama & Roslin at a bowling alley."
When Bill Adama had asked her out, Laura had ideas of how the evening would go- nice dinner in a reputable restaurant, perhaps a stroll down by the water. She had dressed up for this, a new red dress, her hair teased and glorious after hours of work, strands of pearls.
And here she was, in terrible fluorescent lighting and even worse bowling shoes, having the best date of her life.
Title: Front Row
Date posted: 09-06-11
Fandom: Alias
Word count: 700
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead ABC.
Characters: Syd, Nadia, Sark; mentions of Irina, Jack, Sloane and Vaughn.
Notes: Prompted by yahtzee63, who requested "Alias, the fashion industry."
Meeting her sister for lunch was always a pleasure, Sydney thought to herself, but less so when the paparazzi crowded around the door awaiting their every move.
"So sorry I'm late," Nadia said as she slid into her seat across the table, cameras flashing outside the window. Sydney would prefer to sit further inside the restaurant, but Nadia had pointed out that it was free publicity for everyone and that was nothing to turn down. "Mom wanted me to bring her the final copy before she leaves, but of course nothing's done because everyone's en route to London. It's going to be a lovely afternoon."
"What time is your flight?" Sydney asked, spearing a leaf of lettuce and eyeing her sister's perfect peach cropped leather jacket. It was February, but her sister never dressed for the weather.
"Eight tonight," Nadia said, and then ordered only a water and lemon. Nadia had never done runway work, but she had all the sense of someone raised in the fashion industry. "Can you give me any scoop on the new line?"
"You'll see it with everyone else," Sydney said in case anyone was listening, but anyone who knew anything about fashion knew that Front Row always had exclusives on the Bristow line. Sydney's father Jack had become the head designer and creative director for the fashion house Donovan only five years before her mother had become the editor-in-chief of Front Row, and while their divorce had been slightly acrimonious at the time, it had mellowed into an understanding that their line of work required them to tolerate one another- especially when Sydney joined Donovan as a designer after retiring from modelling at twenty-five. Nadia, who had more experience in high fashion print-work in one year than most models had in five, had quit in order to work as an fashion news director with their mother. Of course, had she wanted to walk in shows for the house her father designed and directed, Rambaldi, she could have, the same as she could have joined the ranks as a creative designer there, but Nadia enjoyed editing far more than sketching.
"Of course," Nadia replied. "How do you think it will go tomorrow?"
She meant at the opening parties for London Fashion Week, where both their fathers and mother would be in attendance. There hadn't yet been anything embarrassing, but there was always the chance. Jack Bristow and Arvin Sloane had been the closest of friends and sometimes still were, especially when their mother was on another continent, but Irina Derevko was often present, and the press ached for a chance to see sparks fly.
"I hope it will go well." If it didn't it would fall to them to make peace, and neither wanted that. "Are you planning on bringing the purple suede Louboutins?"
"Hadn't planned on it," Nadia said, accepting her water from the waitress with the same heartbreaking smile that had graced so many ad campaigns, "Do you want me to?"
Sydney nodded. “I think they’ll look great with the white dress.”
Nadia smiled knowingly. “You want to look especially good because Michael Vaughn is going to be at the Paris shows.”
“Shut up,” Sydney said, immediately blushing at the mention of the head of Front Row’s Paris public relations office. “He’ll be there, I’ll be there. It’s not a big deal.”
“Oh no. Not at all.”
“Don’t you have a magazine to write or something?”
“What time is your plane?” Nadia asked, squeezing the lemon into her water.
“Eleven tonight. Late meeting.”
“Well, I can send the shoes over to your office if you want-” Nadia was interrupted when a particularly bold photographer came to the table.
“Just one shot,” Sark, the fashion and celebrity gossip blogger pleaded, and Sydney was wondering how hard it would be to injure him without scuffing the patent leather of her heels when Nadia cooed an acquiescence.
“It’s just business,” Nadia said to her as they put their heads together to smile. “Better to have him as a friend than an enemy.”
It could be that her sister was right.
Title: Charm
Date posted: 09-06-11
Fandom: BSG
Word count: 1035
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Characters: Caprica, Gaius, Cavil.
Notes: Prompted by nicole_anell, who asked for "Gaius and Caprica, old Hollywood"
When the ingénue Caprica Sexton appeared at the top of the staircase in a shimmering gold dress, a hush fell over the room. She was the newest and brightest star at Kobol Studios, and that night's party was in her honor. At the foot of the stairs waited her manager, John Cavil, and beyond that, throngs of important people in Hollywood, directors and producers and potential cast mates and everything was so wonderful that Caprica stood frozen for a moment, drinking in the sight before her. They were all there for her.
She walked down the stairs, her head held high. She had a diamond necklace that John had arranged for her to borrow around her neck, and three diamond hairpins holding back some of her platinum curls. She smiled wider when she reached the bottom safely, and before taking John's elbow, she gave an exaggerated curtsy, much to the delight of the crowd.
"Charming, charming," John said as he linked her gloved forearm with his own. "Don't go overboard, now."
"They liked it," Caprica protested, trying not to sound hurt. John had a way of saying things so that they cut her to the bone.
"You want to be cute, but not too cute. You're not here for comedy, you're here to make them love you."
Caprica didn't necessarily see the two as mutually exclusive, but she didn't want to argue with John, not tonight.
He led her to a cluster of people who were fawning over a handsome, dark-haired man. "Caprica Sexton," he said, releasing her arm, "this is Gaius Baltar. He's an executive producer at Kobol."
Gaius Baltar took her hand and looked right into her eyes. "Enchanted, Miss Sexton."
Light-headed, Caprica managed to squeeze his fingers. "The pleasure's all mine."
John and the others seemed to disperse into thin air as Caprica assessed the man John felt was important enough for her to meet first this evening. He was impeccably dressed, with fine, patrician features, and though he was shorter than she was, he seemed not to care at all. At her height, Caprica had dealt with men's insecurities for years and had a sense for them- this man had none at all.
"Are you enjoying the party, Mr Baltar?" Caprica asked, as Mr Baltar turned to grab two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter.
"Do call me Gaius," he replied, passing her the glass, his fingers brushing against hers. "And the better question is, are you enjoying it, Miss Sexton? It is in your honor.”
Caprica blushed. “Very much... Gaius.” She took a sip of her champagne and glanced around the room, hoping to hide how much she was enjoying his company. “If we’re dropping formalities, you may call me Caprica.”
He repeated her name as he looked at her, and then nodded. “It suits you.”
“My name?” she asked in surprise. It had always been thought of as strange and nearly off-putting in the classroom.
“It brings to mind luxury, and that is what you mean to convey. It’s why our business thrives. No one wants an ordinary girl up there on the screen.”
It was hard to remember that Caprica herself wasn’t an ordinary girl, but she supposed that ordinary girls weren’t attending parties in their honor tonight, wearing diamonds and furs and meeting fascinating and important people. She was a long way from her farm back in Wisconsin.
Gaius talked to her more about the industry- vague, sweeping thoughts about where it was headed, and Caprica’s place in it- and then asked, “Would you like to go someplace quieter?”
Not too many boys had ever built up the nerve to ask her that, and Caprica realized that being around Gaius gave her a pleasant buzz of happiness, more than champagne alone. She knew that John would be looking for her if she was gone too long, but at that moment she wanted nothing more than to sit and talk with Gaius. “Yes, please.”
The night air was cool and pleasant and scented with gardenias. Gaius took her hand and led her to the edge of the garden, where it dropped off in a sheer cliff and the water crashed against the rocks and sand beneath. The moonlight bounced off the waves and her diamonds, and when she turned back to Gaius, her face alight with wonder, he kissed her long and hard. His hands at her back were both desperate and reverent, and there was something in her that knew that despite the personal agony it caused to pull away, it would be better if she did.
“What are you doing?” He asked, diving in for another kiss, which Caprica greeted shallowly.
“Depriving you,” she teased, and John’s words “you’re not here for comedy” rang in her ears in the seconds it took Gaius to react. At first she wasn’t sure if he was angry, but to her relief he smiled.
“That’s for sure.” He sounded almost amazed, like no one had ever thought to leave him wanting more before, and Caprica suddenly felt very powerful.
“I need to fix my lipstick,” she told him, stepping back and guiding his hands back to his sides. “And you might want to freshen up as well.”
“And then what?” He sounded impatient, but not with her- because of her.
“Then we’ll dance,” she answered, tilting her head just like she did for her head shot, “Because it’s my party, and I want to.”
“It is yours,” he agreed, and flashed a rakish smile that left Caprica weak in the knees and regretting her decision to pull away. He motioned her ahead of him, and when Caprica saw her lips kissed clean of color in the bathroom mirror she felt exhilarated
The band leader noticed when she returned to the room, perfectly made up, and he abruptly stopped the song the band had been playing to start the theme to new film, and John was looking at her like he was angry but before he could reach her Gaius was holding out his arms and asking her to dance, and everything was perfect once more.
Title: The Justice League
Date posted: 09-06-11
Fandom: BSG
Word count: 940
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Characters: Natalie, Lee
Notes: Prompted by amaliak, who said: "hmmmm well you know me, babe. I WANT NATALIE/LEE!!!! I WANT THEM TO BE LAWYERS IN NYC (Nat is a DA and Leland works pro-bono activist type stuff...ie lost causes.). I WANT HAPPINESS AND PUPPIES. FRAKKING PUPPIES."
Their goal is to have lunch together three times a week- more, if possible, but at least three. Today is Thursday, and Natalie is just thinking about how she’s going to have to text her husband to ask what he’s thinking about eating when he bursts through her office door over her secretary’s protests.
“Unbelievable!” he’s shouting, as Meredith apologizes profusely to Natalie and hovers anxiously, not wanting to touch the angerball that’s seething before her. “Completely unconscionable!”
“It’s okay, Meredith, thank you,” Natalie says quickly, going over to her husband. Meredith wastes no time ducking out. “What’s unbelievable?”
“Do you know that the ozone layer is disappearing, Natalie? Do you?”
There’s nothing to be done when he’s in one of these rants. “I do, honey. Do you want to sit down?”
“I can’t sit down, I’m too angry. Do you know the consequences of global warming?”
Natalie nodded.
“That’s because everyone does! Everyone knows it’s bad, but no one wants to do anything about it.”
“Well, some people do-”
“No one in a position to actually change things! What about the polar bears?”
“Baby, I think you’re maybe moving away from the point-”
“I am not moving away from the point. The ice caps are melting, Nat, melting-”
“Lee.”
“... And the polar bears are losing their habitats and the global temperature is rising...”
“Lee?”
“... And air quality is going to hell...”
“Lee!”
As usual, her loud-enough-to-be-heard-round-the-courtroom voice has stopped him, and he sighs and runs a restless hand through his hair. “It’s really frustrating.”
Natalie nods. “I know. Come sit down.”
Meredith isn’t going to let anyone in after that display, so she has no qualms about sitting on Lee’s lap once he’s seated. Though working for the NRDC was Lee’s dream in law school, the realities of the up-hill battles he faces on a daily basis is hard on him. She wraps one arm around his shoulders and uses the other to ruffle his hair back into place. “Rough day?”
“We have some really big wins, right? We have the power to make the EPA change things, or stop oil drilling, or get animals on the endangered species list-”
“Like polar bears,” Natalie interjects.
“Yes, like polar bears, but then there are years of roadblocks and nothing happening and things just getting worse.”
“It’s not true that nothing’s happening,” she protests. “You’re building your cases. You get these victories because of your preparation, and you win against massive industries. You should be proud, Lee.”
He nods. “I know. And I am. But while we’re building cases...”
“You can’t be responsible for the whole world, Lee,” Natalie chides him. “You can’t fly up and fix the ozone layer in your invisible plane like Superman.”
“Wonder Woman.”
“What?”
“Superman could just fly, Wonder Woman had the invisible plane.”
Natalie waves a hand. “Well, you can’t fly up like either of them.”
Lee looks thoughtful. “It’d be kind of useful to have a lasso of truth, though.”
“Which one had that?”
“Wonder Woman.”
“She kind of sounds more awesome, I think.”
“Than Superman? Come on.”
“Can you imagine having a lasso of truth in our profession?”
“You pretty much do.” Lee isn’t jealous of Natalie’s impressive number of wins: his wife is a lion in court, and he’s immensely proud of her. She even has an arguably more stressful job than he does, prosecuting criminals who have committed more heinous things than Lee could ever conceive of and pounding their attorneys into the ground with her relentless quest for justice for victims. Natalie hadn’t been named valedictorian of her class due to her looks.
“You’re sweet,” Natalie says, kissing his temple. “But then our jobs wouldn’t be any fun anymore. We’d just win, no arguing required.”
“And we do like to argue.” More than argue, though, Lee likes to kiss his wife, so he takes her chin in his hand and kisses her soundly.
When they’ve finished, Natalie smiles at him and asks, “So, did you come to rant or did you come to treat me to lunch?”
“Treat you?”
Natalie nods. “I mean, you came to pick me up, this is totally a date.”
“Very cute, Nat.”
“So I’ve been told. I’m thinking sushi.”
“You just want to go to Akashi because we can stop by the apartment.”
Natalie shrugs. “I’m unashamed of my priorities. You’d like to see Apollo too.”
Their dog is a year old, an energetic and loving Boxer that they love jogging with in the mornings and on weekends, and the idea of spending an hour with him isn’t unappealing at all. “I would,” Lee agrees, and he stands up, holding Natalie in his arms until she lets out a peal of delighted laughter before putting her down. Sometimes it still takes him by surprise how fiercely he loves her.
She goes around her desk to get her purse, and takes his hand when she returns to his side. “One rule for lunch.”
“What’s that?”
“No mention of polar bears.”
“Harsh. Harsh.”
“Oh, you’ll be fine. There are so many other crises in the world.”
“I know,” he says, opening the door for her. “A lot more. I also want to stem the tide of toxic chemicals.”
“Ooh, baby. That’s the kind of thing I like to hear.”
“Just wait for me to get started on reviving the oceans.”
“I can’t handle it. You’re entirely too attractive right now.”
Lee shrugs easily. “They don’t call us boys at the NRDC studs for nothing.”
Natalie manages to elbow him just before they get in front of Meredith’s desk.
Title: Saoirse
Date posted: 09-07-11
Fandom: BSG
Word count: 595
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Characters: Caprica (Saoirse) Six, Gaius, Leoben, with mentions of Natalie, Sonja, Shelly, among other Cylons.
Notes: Prompted by ivanolix, who prompted "Caprica/Gaius, an AU where Caprica blew off the Plan much earlier"
Six months into her mission, the Six assigned to Caprica and Gaius Baltar realizes she has no desire for her mission to succeed. She starts altering the information she gives over to her brothers little by little, and strengthens the programs Gaius is creating for the Defense Ministry. One day, after five attempts at getting her attention without using her name, she turns to him and says “Saoirse. Saoirse.” She wants him to know and to remember and to hear her name from his mouth.
For a moment he looks taken aback, and then he rolls his eyes, as though she’s being silly. “I knew that,” he said, more for his benefit than hers. “Saoirse. The valet brought the car.”
But once he knows it, really knows it and her face and her body and the scent of her skin, he remembers and says it more and more, and Saoirse doubles her efforts to sabotage her mission. She doesn’t want to lose Gaius, to forget the sweet joy she feels when he smiles or the deep desire that overcomes her when he moves his mouth to just under her jaw. All of the humans she’s met have been kind and innocent and undeserving of the fate her siblings have orchestrated, and she can’t imagine that God- God, who believes in love and salvation above all else- wants that fate to be administered. It is His place to judge the humans, not theirs.
She whispers these thoughts to the sibling she is closest to, a Leoben whose yoga class she takes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. “I love him, brother,” she says as they drink smoothies after a class, “Isn’t that what God wants, for us to love?”
Leoben nods, looking troubled. “We have no reason to believe otherwise.”
She puts her hand over his and grips it desperately. “Please, Leoben. Please help me.”
From him, she moves on to her sister Sixes, just as he talks to his brother Twos. It’s easy for Saoirse to make up a business trip that takes her to Gemenon to visit her sister Natalie, to Virgon to see Caroline, to Canceron to talk to Shelly and Libran to see Sonja. Her words are gentle and convincing, and the more it’s discussed, the more sense it makes. God doesn’t want destruction and pain, He wants love and acceptance. They share their ideas with the Eights and some of the less militant Threes, Fours and Fives.
They don’t dare take it to the Ones until significant damage has been done to their efforts- months of misinformation and sabotage honeycombed throughout the Cylon war effort. The day before the attacks are supposed to take place, Natalie, the bravest of them all, calls a meeting and presents the evidence.
Saoirse can’t make it without arousing suspicion, and she spends the entire day in agony. If her efforts were in vain, if Gaius is going to die, she wants to know.
The next morning dawns clear and bright, and Saoirse keeps Gaius from going into work with her affectionate distractions, though she looks out the window for radiation clouds whenever she gets the chance. By mid-afternoon, she’s reasonably sure that everything is going to be all right, and she takes Gaius’s face into her hands and kisses him fiercely.
“What is it, Saoirse?” Her name rolls off his tongue easily, so accustomed is he to saying it. If something happens and she is discovered as an enemy by the humans, he could identify her immediately.
“Nothing,” she says in relief, kissing him again.
Title: Winter is Coming
Date posted: 09-07-11
Fandom: BSG, Game of Thrones
Word count: 1668
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM and GRRM.
Characters: Bill and Tigh, with mentions of Laura, Caprica, Leoben, Doral, D'Anna, Billy, Dee, Kara, Gaeta, Hotdog, Lee, Adar and Ellen.
Notes: Prompted by miabicicletta, who asked for "The Adamas of Winterfell."
When the king rode to Winterfell, the realm followed, in a sea of gold and silver and polished steel. Over their heads banners emblazoned with the crowned stag of the house of Tigh whipped in the northern wind.
William Adama, Lord of Winterfell and protector of the North, knew many of the riders. There came Ser Leoben Cylon, proud in his golden armor and his his hair gleaming in the sun, followed by the fearsome Galen Tyrol, a fierce warrior known for his temper. The tall boy riding beside him could only be the crown prince Liam, and after him, the impish Aaron, known more for his wit than his looks. Yet it was the man riding at the front of the column, flanked by two riders in the brilliant white cloaks of the Kingsguard, who seemed like a stranger to Bill.
Seventeen years earlier, when they had gone south to win a throne, Saul Tigh had been a sight to behold, fierce and hale and any maiden’s fantasy in his armor. The king before him was thin and and bald and drawn-looking, despite his happiness at seeing his old friend. Bill supposed it could be due to the stress of losing his Hand, Lee Nagala, the man who had fostered both Bill and Saul in their childhood. The king dismounted stiffly, and walked over to Bill, looking him over.
“You’ve gotten old,” he judged solemnly, and Bill couldn’t help but give him a look. He had gotten old?
They both held one another’s gaze until Saul started to laugh, and Bill joined in. They embraced like brothers. “It’s good to see that frozen face of yours. It’s been far too long.”
It had been far too long, but Bill was still worried that Saul’s presence was an portent of ill things to come. Laura had suggested as much the night before in her chambers, as they laid curled up under her furs. She respected her friendship with the king but had even less respect for the rest of the royal family than Bill did.
Dispelling these thoughts, Bill said simply, “Your Grace, Winterfell as yours.”
Behind Saul, the others were dismounting. Saul’s queen, Caprica Cylon, entered on foot with her daughter, her wheelhouse being too grand and large to fit through the gates. Saul embraced Laura like a long-lost sister as Bill knelt in the snow to kiss Queen Caprica’s ring.
She was as beautiful as he remembered, and though her beauty was sang of far and wide across the Seven Kingdoms, it had never been exaggerated. There was no need of it. The queen was blessed with a fair countenance, golden curls, and brilliantly blue eyes. If one merely looked at her, she seemed only sweet and harmless.
Bill couldn’t help but feel ill at ease with her, as he always had. Even on the eve of her wedding, when he had been introduced to the then-seventeen year old queen, there had been something about her that had struck Bill as strange. He was certain that she had never had the innocence that his Anastasia or Kara possessed, though he supposed that as a Cylon, she might not have had the chance to cultivate any. No other family was as proud as the Cylons, as evidenced by the bright golden banners that mingled with Saul’s own silver. He also noted that Prince Liam’s doublet was embroidered with both the stag of Tigh and the lion of Cylon, an unusual practice.
Introductions were made between the Tigh children, Prince Liam and Princess D’Anna, and the Adama children, Billy, Anastasia, Kara, Felix and Brendan. Bill’s other son, Lee, wasn’t present to be introduced to the royal children, as Laura had pointed out that the queen would certainly be against her children meeting a bastard. He had gone cold, as he always did when he heard the ice in his wife’s voice when she spoke of his son, but he had agreed. Queen Caprica was unpredictable that way.
“Take me down to your crypt, Bill,” Saul said as soon as the children had made friends, “I want to pay my respects.”
Caprica turned to her husband, her expression cool. “"We've been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait.”
Saul looked at her silently, and to her credit, the queen met his gaze, uncowed. Without a word, Saul walked away, calling back for Bill, and Caprica’s twin Leoben took her quietly by the arm.
Bill loved that Saul always remembered, and led his almost-brother by torchlight down into the Adama family crypt. There were times when Saul might have used this opportunity to make jokes, but he was solemn now, as he was whenever Bill’s sister was mentioned. “She’s down here, Your Grace.”
Though he would never kneel to anyone in life, Saul Tigh knelt before the statue of Ellen Adama, dead before he had taken his crown. She was to have been his bride. “She was more beautiful than that,” Saul said with difficulty, looking up at the lovely stone face in front of him, as though he could bring her back by wanting her enough. He rose with some difficulty, and then shook his head. “Dammit, Bill. Did you have to bury her in a place like this? She deserves more than darkness.”
“She was an Adama of Winterfell,” Bill said quietly. His grief at losing his sister was almost as strong as Saul’s. “This is her place.”
Saul touched the granite of Ellen’s cheek, reverent and gentle. “She should be on a hill someplace. Under sun and clouds and rain to wash her clean...”
“She wanted to come home.”
“I vowed to kill Richard for what he did to her.”
“You did,” Bill reminded him, remembering the day they took the Trident, and the holy fury with which Saul had dispatched Richard Adar to the Seven Hells.
“Only once,” Saul said bitterly. “In my dreams, I kill him every night.”
There was nothing Bill could think to say to that. After a few moments of silence, he said, “We should return, Your Grace. Your wife will be waiting.”
“To hell with my wife,” Saul said, taking his hand back and turning to leave Ellen. “And if I hear one more ‘Your Grace,’ I’ll put your head on a spike. We’re more than that.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Bill told him, though it was more difficult when your friend was the king of the Seven Kingdoms. “Tell me about old Lee.”
Saul shrugged, looking pained again. “The damndest thing, Bill. One day he was fine, and then the next... the fever burned right through him.” He shook his head, his crown reflecting the dull light of the torch. “I loved that man.”
“We both did.” They had spent years in his care.
“Bill,” Saul started, putting an arm around his brother’s shoulders, “You must be wondering why I’ve come here.”
“Your inspection of the Wall is overdue,” Bill suggested, though he had a feeling this was not the case. The Wall was seen now as more of a guardian against nothing, though winter was coming. It was long overdue.
Saul waved the very idea away. “The gods-damned Wall has stood for eight thousand years, and it’ll keep a while longer. Eight thousand years longer. No, Bill, I’ve come north because these are dangerous times, and I need good men around me, men like Lee Nagala. Men like you. I want you down in King’s Landing, not up here where you’re no damn use to anybody.” Taking his arm back, Saul faced him. “Lord William Adama, I would name you Hand of the King.”
As he often did when he was not in a rage, Saul gave his command like he was vaguely embarrassed to be giving it, and wished to hurry it up. Bill couldn’t say he was very surprised, and dropped to one knee.
“I’m not worthy of the honor.”
“If I wanted to honor you, I’d let you retire. You’ll hate this more than you know. I want you to run my kingdom while I drink and whore my way into an early grave.” Saul smiled, happy with his circumstances, as he had every right to be. “You know what they say, about the king and his Hand.”
“‘What the king dreams,’” Bill said, “the Hand builds.’”
“Or, ‘What the king eats, the Hand shits.’” Saul threw his head back with raucous laughter, and it rang down the halls and around the dead Adamas, cloaked in darkness. Bill did not join in.
“Dammit, Bill. You Northerners are too cold for jokes. You helped me win this damn throne, now help me keep it. We would’ve been brothers long since had my Ellen lived, bound by affection as well as by blood. It’s not too late, dammit. I have a son, you have a daughter. We’ll marry Liam and your Anastasia and bound our houses, as Ellen and I might have done.”
The idea pleased Saul, though it startled Bill. “How long have you been planning this?”
Saul looked at him. “How old is your daughter?”
This did earn Saul a laugh. There were worse things than having his daughter wed a prince, though Liam looked entirely too much like the Cylon side of his blood for Bill’s taste. And for Laura’s, he knew without asking.
“Say yes, dammit. Come to King’s Landing. We’ll teach you how to laugh again down south.”
“If I could have some time to consider these honors,” Bill trailed off. Laura would not be pleased with this at all.
“Of course, of course.” Saul clapped an arm around Bill, “Mull over the honors, talk it over with Laura. But don’t keep me waiting too long. Caprica’s itching to appoint her brother, and there’s only so long you can hold off a Cylon. Tenacious, the lot of them.”
That was one word for them, though not the one Bill would’ve chosen.
Title: Shameless
Date posted: 09-06-11
Fandom: BSG
Word count: 414
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Characters: Bill, Laura, Saul and Ellen Tigh
Notes: Prompted by rayruz, who asked for "The Tighs... as former porn stars." This can also be seen as a continuation of 'First Date.'
"There's something you need to know about them," Bill warned Laura as he parked. "The Tighs have a... colorful past."
"A colorful past?" Laura asked, eyebrows raised, "Like they used to be circus performers, or something?"
"That's one way to put it," Bill said as he turned the car off. He looked at Laura seriously. "Saul is my best friend."
"I know," Laura said, putting her hand on his knee. It was the first time she was going to meet this best friend of his, and she wanted to make a good impression. Bill had mentioned being friends with Saul Tigh for over twenty years.
"It might not even come up," Bill said, sounding as though he hoped this would be the case, "But in case it does, try not to shocked. That'll just delight Ellen too much."
"In case what comes up?" Laura asked, but Bill was already getting out of the car. She scrambled to follow him. "In case what comes up?" she repeated, but the front door was opening, and Saul Tigh was wrapping her new boyfriend in a bear hug.
"You must be Laura!" Exclaimed a woman who could only be Ellen Tigh. She was strikingly beautiful if somewhat overdressed for what was supposed to be a casual dinner at home. Laura had chosen crisp jeans and a cashmere sweater; Ellen was wearing a tiny white halter dress that, while flattering, was a bit too young.
She smiled anyway as the woman embraced her. "Hello, Ellen."
"Come in, come in," Ellen said, pulling her past the men, who were talking animatedly and occasionally clapping one another on the arm or back. "It's nippy outside. Would you like something to drink? We're drinking martinis."
Ellen continued past the foyer into the living room, but Laura couldn't move. To her abject horror, there was an life-sized framed photo of Ellen Tigh staring down at her from the top of the stairs- a life-sized nude Ellen Tigh.
"Laura?" Ellen called, peeking her head around the doorway. "There you are."
Tearing her eyes away, Laura scrutinized Ellen's face for embarrassment and found none.
"Oh, I see you saw the artwork. There's more of that around," Ellen said nonchalantly, taking in Laura's expression. "You might want a drink if that sort of thing shocks you."
It turned out, Laura did want a drink. She wanted an even stronger one when she saw the picture over the mantle.
Title: Burning love
Date posted: 09-08-11
Fandom: BSG
Word count: 420
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Characters: Helena Cain and Gina Inviere
Notes: Prompted by sci_fi_shipper, who loves me and asked for "Helena/Gina at a BBQ next to a lake."
“Sweetheart,” Gina asked without opening her eyes, “Do you need any help?”
Helena’s voice floated over the sound of gently lapping waters. “I’ve got it.”
Gina stretched luxuriously, weighing how wise it was to stay put. As delicious as the late afternoon sun felt on her skin, Helena had a tendency to leave Gina’s vegetables on the grill as long as her own steak. “I think a second set of eyes would help,” she countered, sitting up.
The white of her bikini gleamed against her newly-acquired tan as she walked over to the barbecue. Though they could hear the raucous sounds from the more populated side of the lake, the lake house they had chosen was much more peaceful and serene. They had their distance from the large corporate picnics and the squabbles of large families gathering to celebrate while still being able to enjoy the same fireworks as everyone else, unabashedly cuddled up on the grass, or sitting entwined in the hot tub, or holding hands as they floated in the cool water of Lake Pegasus. Helena liked her privacy.
“You don’t trust me,” Helena said as she poured them both a glass of wine.
Gina ministered to her vegetables seriously, taking her glass when offered but immediately putting it down. “I trust you. They’re just easier to burn, and you get distracted-”
“Distracted?” Helena asked, “Distracted by what?”
“Your phone,” Gina deadpanned. “Pyramid scores. Ambient noises. Bugs...”
“You.” Helena finished, snaking an arm around Gina’s waist.
“Me,” Gina agreed, putting her arm over Helena’s. “I’m just taking precautions.”
“And you never get distracted.”
“Not usually.”
Helena clearly took this as a challenge, and she kissed the juncture of Gina’s shoulder and neck as her fingers worried at the edge of Gina’s bathing suit. “No, not you,” she purred, and the combination of her voice and her motions sent shivers down Gina’s spine.
“Now you’re just cheating,” Gina said sensibly, but couldn’t deny that it was harder to keep an eye on the grill with such a tantalizing distraction.
“Not cheating,” Helena clarified as she kissed up Gina’s throat, “Proving a point.”
“Mm.” Gina tilted her head to the side so that Helena could continue, “Which is?”
“You’re just as distractable. Scorch marks.”
“What?”
“Scorch marks.”
Gina looked down to see that her vegetables were in need of rotation, and sported burns. “Dammit, Helena.” She stepped out of Helena’s arms to turn the vegetables. “Totally cheated. Definitely cheated.”
Helena took a sip of her wine and looked completely unapologetic.