Fermata
Title: Fermata
Date posted: 12-06-11
Fandom: BSG
Word count: 1290
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Characters: Sonja 'Legs' Sigardson, Sam ‘Longshot’ Anders
Notes: So, kag523 wrote this awesome 'choose your own adventure' fic called Chain Reaction where readers got to vote on outcomes and suggest objects/people/themes to be included. Being myself, I requested a Six, and then specifically Sonja. As always, K hit the ground running, creating a pilot persona for Sonja where her callsign at the academy was Legs. At some point she mentioned to me that Legs and Longshot were still together when the attacks happened. This fic follows the first fic I wrote of this pairing, Prelude.
"Marry me," he whispers to her. It's barely morning and they're spooning on their cot in the assistant principal's office. Their fingers are laced together.
"Sam," Sonja sighs, "What are you doing?" She wants to roll over and face him with her serious, no-nonsense expression, but she can't just yet. She feels too guilty about her lie.
"I'm asking you to marry me. I don't know why it's taken us so long." He sounds incredulous, like he honestly can’t fathom why they aren’t already married.
Sonja laughs a bit. "I can think of a few reasons."
"Name one."
"I can name several: we were too young, there was no need, I'm not pregnant..."
"Those are ridiculous reasons. I love you."
"Do you only want to get married because you're freaking out?"
He pulls at her shoulder until she gives in and rolls over to face him. "I'm not freaking out."
This is true. Sam has been preternaturally calm this entire time, and he’s leading their group like he was born to do it. The service had lost out when Sam got recruited by the C-Bucs out from under it.
"Then what's up with you?"
"I want to marry you. Why is that so crazy?"
"Sam, look at us. Look at where we are. This is no way to start a life."
What she wanted to say was, 'You can't start a life with me, because I'm your enemy,' but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She doesn't know what will happen. Surely she'll have to leave at the very least, or she'll be shot as a traitor. Sam will be flooded with more guilt and doubt than he already has, and she can't bear the idea of burdening him more. She’s been lying the whole time, she tells herself, it’ll keep a few more days.
But he's saying, "This is the only way to start a life now, So. This is our life." His face softens as he looks at her, and he strokes her hair back. "What is it that you want?"
She wants it to be six weeks ago, six months ago. She wants them just to be Legs and Longshot again back at the Academy, or Sam Anders the pyramid star and Lieutenant Sigardson. She doesn't want this, Sam Anders the resistance leader, and Sonja Sigardson the traitor.
"I don't know," she says, and she refuses to let herself cry, "I love you, but..."
But I'm your enemy. Sam kisses her face and holds her close. He's never once asked about her dreams of fiery apocalypse coming right before their worlds ended. He didn't notice Simon's small smile whenever they see a Cylon stronghold. He sees what he wants to see.
For her part, Sonja has never sabotaged anything. The few times she's thought of how easily she could do it- not wanting to, just knowing that she could- made her immediately ill, and she doubled her efforts to coordinate attacks that would be successful. "We're so lucky to have you here," say the pyramid players turned guerrilla fighters. Sonja sometimes stays up late looking over plans of attack to make sure she isn't somehow leading them all to ruin. She can't let them down.
The only times she’s cried about it was immediately following the attacks- Sam had thought she was overwhelmed with the magnitude of the destruction and grabbed her in a fierce embrace- and three times silently in the shower. It feels almost indecent to cry when she’s seen the suffering the Cylons have inflicted. She has no right to grieve over what she’s lost and what she will lose.
"But nothing," Sam tells her. "Let's do it."
"It doesn't mean anything anymore," she protests, but oh Gods- God- Gods, she wants it. It had always been the idea in the back of her mind, even when Sam had left the Academy for the pros and she had been billeted to the Atlantia. Was that part of her mission, dreaming of a life with Sam?
"It does," and he's trying to not to scare her off by speaking lightly. "It'll bond our souls in the eyes of the gods, Sonja, so if anything happens to one of us--"
She scoffs. "What, we'll find each other in Elysia? You don't think we could do that without being married?"
"Who knows? Wouldn't you rather be safe than sorry?" She thinks he's teasing, and then his fingers start moving against her ribs to tickle her and she knows it. She’s grateful for the distraction.
"Longshot," Sonja gasps out between giggles, "Is tragedy making you religious?"
"I see no reason to make enemies of the gods right now," he answers easily, letting up on her. "We can use all the help we can get."
“So say we all.” The words are both familiar and bitterly false. “How about we get engaged?”
“That’s the same as getting married.”
It’s not. They could go to the Brother Cavil- the One who is hiding in plain sight, the one she avoids- and be married before breakfast if they chose. She can picture it now, getting married in the cafeteria or on the school pyramid court. She wants it. “No. If we’re engaged, we can just... know that it’s going to happen. We’ll have something to look forward to. It can be a secret.”
Sam looks doubtful. “This sounds like something from one of those Virgon empire books. A secret engagement... why can’t we just get married?”
A traitor girlfriend, a traitor betrothed is one thing. A traitor wife is another. “I don’t want to rush it.”
“Rush it- Legs, it’s been five years...”
“I know, baby.” She puts a hand over his heart and wishes that things were different. “Please, Sam. Just for a little while. Let’s be engaged for a little while.”
He’s not sold on the idea, she can tell. He’s thinking of the people that don’t come back to the base at night, the empty seats at meals, the empty cots. Having souls joined in the eyes of the Gods won’t stop that, she wants to tell him, especially when one belongs to a Cylon.
There must be something about her face, something in her eyes or the movement of her mouth, because Sam puts his hand over hers and says, “An engagement, huh?”
“Yeah,” she says in relief, “An engagement.”
“Gonna use this time to plan a big wedding?”
“Of course. How can we get married without a big wedding?”
It’s easier to banter than to think about what their wedding might have been. Curled up on a rickety rollaway in Delphi Union High they can both pretend that they’re not survivors precariously perched on wreckage, waiting to be saved. This could be a vacation, a camping trip.
“A secret engagement,” Sam says, as though trying out the idea. “Sounds pretty romantic.”
“It is. All the best classics had them.”
“Did the best classics include premarital relations?”
Sonja laughs and shakes her head. “Not explicitly, but if you read between the lines...” Sam’s running his hand up her thigh and under his jersey she wore to bed. “Yeah, kind of like that.”
“I should’ve read these novels.”
He should have, Sonja agrees, and now she wonders how many copies still exist. Maybe whatever’s left in the high school library, all that’s left of hundreds of years of culture. She closes her eyes and kisses her fiancé to keep from crying a fifth time.
Date posted: 12-06-11
Fandom: BSG
Word count: 1290
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Characters: Sonja 'Legs' Sigardson, Sam ‘Longshot’ Anders
Notes: So, kag523 wrote this awesome 'choose your own adventure' fic called Chain Reaction where readers got to vote on outcomes and suggest objects/people/themes to be included. Being myself, I requested a Six, and then specifically Sonja. As always, K hit the ground running, creating a pilot persona for Sonja where her callsign at the academy was Legs. At some point she mentioned to me that Legs and Longshot were still together when the attacks happened. This fic follows the first fic I wrote of this pairing, Prelude.
"Marry me," he whispers to her. It's barely morning and they're spooning on their cot in the assistant principal's office. Their fingers are laced together.
"Sam," Sonja sighs, "What are you doing?" She wants to roll over and face him with her serious, no-nonsense expression, but she can't just yet. She feels too guilty about her lie.
"I'm asking you to marry me. I don't know why it's taken us so long." He sounds incredulous, like he honestly can’t fathom why they aren’t already married.
Sonja laughs a bit. "I can think of a few reasons."
"Name one."
"I can name several: we were too young, there was no need, I'm not pregnant..."
"Those are ridiculous reasons. I love you."
"Do you only want to get married because you're freaking out?"
He pulls at her shoulder until she gives in and rolls over to face him. "I'm not freaking out."
This is true. Sam has been preternaturally calm this entire time, and he’s leading their group like he was born to do it. The service had lost out when Sam got recruited by the C-Bucs out from under it.
"Then what's up with you?"
"I want to marry you. Why is that so crazy?"
"Sam, look at us. Look at where we are. This is no way to start a life."
What she wanted to say was, 'You can't start a life with me, because I'm your enemy,' but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She doesn't know what will happen. Surely she'll have to leave at the very least, or she'll be shot as a traitor. Sam will be flooded with more guilt and doubt than he already has, and she can't bear the idea of burdening him more. She’s been lying the whole time, she tells herself, it’ll keep a few more days.
But he's saying, "This is the only way to start a life now, So. This is our life." His face softens as he looks at her, and he strokes her hair back. "What is it that you want?"
She wants it to be six weeks ago, six months ago. She wants them just to be Legs and Longshot again back at the Academy, or Sam Anders the pyramid star and Lieutenant Sigardson. She doesn't want this, Sam Anders the resistance leader, and Sonja Sigardson the traitor.
"I don't know," she says, and she refuses to let herself cry, "I love you, but..."
But I'm your enemy. Sam kisses her face and holds her close. He's never once asked about her dreams of fiery apocalypse coming right before their worlds ended. He didn't notice Simon's small smile whenever they see a Cylon stronghold. He sees what he wants to see.
For her part, Sonja has never sabotaged anything. The few times she's thought of how easily she could do it- not wanting to, just knowing that she could- made her immediately ill, and she doubled her efforts to coordinate attacks that would be successful. "We're so lucky to have you here," say the pyramid players turned guerrilla fighters. Sonja sometimes stays up late looking over plans of attack to make sure she isn't somehow leading them all to ruin. She can't let them down.
The only times she’s cried about it was immediately following the attacks- Sam had thought she was overwhelmed with the magnitude of the destruction and grabbed her in a fierce embrace- and three times silently in the shower. It feels almost indecent to cry when she’s seen the suffering the Cylons have inflicted. She has no right to grieve over what she’s lost and what she will lose.
"But nothing," Sam tells her. "Let's do it."
"It doesn't mean anything anymore," she protests, but oh Gods- God- Gods, she wants it. It had always been the idea in the back of her mind, even when Sam had left the Academy for the pros and she had been billeted to the Atlantia. Was that part of her mission, dreaming of a life with Sam?
"It does," and he's trying to not to scare her off by speaking lightly. "It'll bond our souls in the eyes of the gods, Sonja, so if anything happens to one of us--"
She scoffs. "What, we'll find each other in Elysia? You don't think we could do that without being married?"
"Who knows? Wouldn't you rather be safe than sorry?" She thinks he's teasing, and then his fingers start moving against her ribs to tickle her and she knows it. She’s grateful for the distraction.
"Longshot," Sonja gasps out between giggles, "Is tragedy making you religious?"
"I see no reason to make enemies of the gods right now," he answers easily, letting up on her. "We can use all the help we can get."
“So say we all.” The words are both familiar and bitterly false. “How about we get engaged?”
“That’s the same as getting married.”
It’s not. They could go to the Brother Cavil- the One who is hiding in plain sight, the one she avoids- and be married before breakfast if they chose. She can picture it now, getting married in the cafeteria or on the school pyramid court. She wants it. “No. If we’re engaged, we can just... know that it’s going to happen. We’ll have something to look forward to. It can be a secret.”
Sam looks doubtful. “This sounds like something from one of those Virgon empire books. A secret engagement... why can’t we just get married?”
A traitor girlfriend, a traitor betrothed is one thing. A traitor wife is another. “I don’t want to rush it.”
“Rush it- Legs, it’s been five years...”
“I know, baby.” She puts a hand over his heart and wishes that things were different. “Please, Sam. Just for a little while. Let’s be engaged for a little while.”
He’s not sold on the idea, she can tell. He’s thinking of the people that don’t come back to the base at night, the empty seats at meals, the empty cots. Having souls joined in the eyes of the Gods won’t stop that, she wants to tell him, especially when one belongs to a Cylon.
There must be something about her face, something in her eyes or the movement of her mouth, because Sam puts his hand over hers and says, “An engagement, huh?”
“Yeah,” she says in relief, “An engagement.”
“Gonna use this time to plan a big wedding?”
“Of course. How can we get married without a big wedding?”
It’s easier to banter than to think about what their wedding might have been. Curled up on a rickety rollaway in Delphi Union High they can both pretend that they’re not survivors precariously perched on wreckage, waiting to be saved. This could be a vacation, a camping trip.
“A secret engagement,” Sam says, as though trying out the idea. “Sounds pretty romantic.”
“It is. All the best classics had them.”
“Did the best classics include premarital relations?”
Sonja laughs and shakes her head. “Not explicitly, but if you read between the lines...” Sam’s running his hand up her thigh and under his jersey she wore to bed. “Yeah, kind of like that.”
“I should’ve read these novels.”
He should have, Sonja agrees, and now she wonders how many copies still exist. Maybe whatever’s left in the high school library, all that’s left of hundreds of years of culture. She closes her eyes and kisses her fiancé to keep from crying a fifth time.