Meme Ficlet: Sleeping on Empty Dreams
Title Sleeping on Empty Dreams
Pairing Gaeta/Eight
Rating PG
Summary An evening on New Caprica.
Author's Notes In response to the First Line Meme from lls_mutant. Title from Sarah McLachlan's Wait, which is my Felix song.
New Caprica was cold.
Felix shivered, wrapping his arms tightly around himself as he made his way back to his tent, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Even so, he knew people were watching him, fixing him with angry, bitter glares. Centurions were starting their evening patrols, the increase in their numbers a general warning of the swiftly approaching curfew. He was almost grateful for it, and that was depressing, the knowledge that the presence of Cylons was keeping him safe. If given the opportunity, he knew that there were members of the settlement who would jump at the chance to beat him within an inch of his life.
He shivered again, and told himself it was just because New Caprica was cold.
Eight was already there, Felix discovered when he pushed the flap of the tent aside. She had the lamp on low and was sitting at his table, reading the book his father had given him for his nineteenth birthday, the newest release by their favorite author. It was the only connection he had left, and he determinedly didn’t let it bother him to see it in her hands. She looked up when he entered and rose to greet him with a quick kiss.
“How was your day?” she asked as he removed his hat and hung it by the entrance.
“Frustrating.” He took his coat off and draped it across the back of a chair. It was chilly in here, too, but more than a sweater was too much. “There was an incident with the insurgency last night, and increasing rations for the winter was voted down.”
“I’m sorry,” Eight said quietly as she took in the troubled look on his face.
“Not your fault,” he reassured her. If anything, it was his. The resistance had known to attack that location on his information. One weak point along the Cylons’ delivery route, one stupid shipment of weapons destroyed, and now the entire settlement was going to suffer for it. He needed to be more careful, do a better job coordinating his drops with times when important decisions weren’t about to be made. But he couldn’t share his guilt with her, no matter how much he wished he could be completely honest with somebody. “The Eights still voted for it.” He sat on the bed with a sigh. “How was your day?”
“Not much better,” she replied, settling in next to him. “Fourteen more people were put in detention. We’re going to run out of space at this rate, and I don’t even want to think about how Cavil will propose we deal with that problem.”
Felix winced, because he knew she was right. “Did you…” he started.
“No.” Eight shook her head and blinked quickly. “There was too much going on, too many people being taken in. It would have been too obvious. I’m sorry. I wanted to…”
“Hey, it’s ok.” Felix reached out and pulled Eight closer so her face was nuzzled against his neck. “I understand.”
And he did. He hadn’t been able to do anything useful for the resistance today, either. The Cylons were on edge from last night’s attack and had watched the human members of Baltar’s staff with renewed distrust. He’d had to be very careful not to give them a reason to turn their suspicion directly on him.
Their evening passed quietly, like they usually did, and ended in the usual way, with Eight below him on the bed as she softly chanted his name. He kissed her and gasped wordlessly to completion, because even now he couldn’t bring himself to call out a number meant to designate an entire model, and though she had given him permission to call her Sharon, she wasn’t Sharon, wasn’t either Sharon, and to use that name for her felt as dishonest as a number.
They held each other afterword, she tracing her fingers over the tattoo on his chest as he gently stroked her hair. They didn’t speak, but it was a comfortable silence, and eventually their hands slowed and finally ceased in their ministration as their breathing evened and grew deeper. Drifting off, Felix felt her snuggle closer with a contented sigh.
New Caprica was cold. These moments were the only times he felt warm.
Pairing Gaeta/Eight
Rating PG
Summary An evening on New Caprica.
Author's Notes In response to the First Line Meme from lls_mutant. Title from Sarah McLachlan's Wait, which is my Felix song.
New Caprica was cold.
Felix shivered, wrapping his arms tightly around himself as he made his way back to his tent, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Even so, he knew people were watching him, fixing him with angry, bitter glares. Centurions were starting their evening patrols, the increase in their numbers a general warning of the swiftly approaching curfew. He was almost grateful for it, and that was depressing, the knowledge that the presence of Cylons was keeping him safe. If given the opportunity, he knew that there were members of the settlement who would jump at the chance to beat him within an inch of his life.
He shivered again, and told himself it was just because New Caprica was cold.
Eight was already there, Felix discovered when he pushed the flap of the tent aside. She had the lamp on low and was sitting at his table, reading the book his father had given him for his nineteenth birthday, the newest release by their favorite author. It was the only connection he had left, and he determinedly didn’t let it bother him to see it in her hands. She looked up when he entered and rose to greet him with a quick kiss.
“How was your day?” she asked as he removed his hat and hung it by the entrance.
“Frustrating.” He took his coat off and draped it across the back of a chair. It was chilly in here, too, but more than a sweater was too much. “There was an incident with the insurgency last night, and increasing rations for the winter was voted down.”
“I’m sorry,” Eight said quietly as she took in the troubled look on his face.
“Not your fault,” he reassured her. If anything, it was his. The resistance had known to attack that location on his information. One weak point along the Cylons’ delivery route, one stupid shipment of weapons destroyed, and now the entire settlement was going to suffer for it. He needed to be more careful, do a better job coordinating his drops with times when important decisions weren’t about to be made. But he couldn’t share his guilt with her, no matter how much he wished he could be completely honest with somebody. “The Eights still voted for it.” He sat on the bed with a sigh. “How was your day?”
“Not much better,” she replied, settling in next to him. “Fourteen more people were put in detention. We’re going to run out of space at this rate, and I don’t even want to think about how Cavil will propose we deal with that problem.”
Felix winced, because he knew she was right. “Did you…” he started.
“No.” Eight shook her head and blinked quickly. “There was too much going on, too many people being taken in. It would have been too obvious. I’m sorry. I wanted to…”
“Hey, it’s ok.” Felix reached out and pulled Eight closer so her face was nuzzled against his neck. “I understand.”
And he did. He hadn’t been able to do anything useful for the resistance today, either. The Cylons were on edge from last night’s attack and had watched the human members of Baltar’s staff with renewed distrust. He’d had to be very careful not to give them a reason to turn their suspicion directly on him.
Their evening passed quietly, like they usually did, and ended in the usual way, with Eight below him on the bed as she softly chanted his name. He kissed her and gasped wordlessly to completion, because even now he couldn’t bring himself to call out a number meant to designate an entire model, and though she had given him permission to call her Sharon, she wasn’t Sharon, wasn’t either Sharon, and to use that name for her felt as dishonest as a number.
They held each other afterword, she tracing her fingers over the tattoo on his chest as he gently stroked her hair. They didn’t speak, but it was a comfortable silence, and eventually their hands slowed and finally ceased in their ministration as their breathing evened and grew deeper. Drifting off, Felix felt her snuggle closer with a contented sigh.
New Caprica was cold. These moments were the only times he felt warm.