[Fic] projection (BSG)
Title: projection
Fandom: BSG
Characters: Final Five
Rating: PG-13 for minor language
Summary: Sam's afternoon jog is interrupted.
Written for bsg_epics Inspiration Day: Tell Me What To Write. The prompt was: "I'd be great to see the Final Five initially merging and a swapping their selves in a projection pre Cavil's mind wipe." Don't know if I actually filled that, LOL, but hope you like it. :)
The street was bustling with people as Sam Anders ran down it. Children chased other children, street vendors sold brightly-colored food, and everyone had a smile on their face. It was a festival day, maybe.
There was music in the air. A song Sam himself had written, actually.
The streets were so busy that Sam had to dodge and weave, but he didn’t care. It made his daily jog more exciting, more friendly. He thought he saw a few faces he knew, in the crowd, in the distance, but they were always gone by the time he reached them.
And then a face he did know. Galen.
“Sam, stop.”
Sam kept running, kept his eyes away, forward, on the faces of the strangers.
But Galen kept appearing. Leaning in open doorways, watching him past. Doorway after doorway.
“Sam, talk to me. Please.”
Sam slowed to a stop. “I just needed to take a break,” he said, panting and leaning over, hands on his knees for effect.
“That’s fine,” Galen replied.
“What do you want?”
Galen shrugged. “Just to talk.”
Sam didn’t answer, but Galen took it for a yes, walking inside. Sam followed.
There was no music inside. In fact, all of the noise from the streets vanished. Galen and Tory’s condo on the outskirts of the city was nothing if not peaceful. Elegant, the perfect place to hold a dinner party-although that was mostly Tory’s influence, Sam knew.
Galen just sat down on the couch. Sam poured himself a drink from the liquor cabinet, not bothering to check the label. It wasn’t so much to drink as to have something to do with his hands. Galen still wasn’t starting.
“Don’t try to psychoanalyze me,” Sam warned. “I read the same manual on group dynamics as you.”
“Fine. Are you going to tell me that you just forgot, Sam, or can we skip to the part where you tell me the truth about why you skipped Four’s birth?”
“I’m not essential personnel for that phase of the process.”
“Bullshit.”
“Pretty sure the manual didn’t tell you to curse,” Sam said.
“This isn't some mission I was sent on to figure out what's wrong with you or something. I just want to know where your head's at.”
He took a sip from the glass. The alcohol burned down his throat-Galen’s presence certainly made itself clear in the liquor. Galen stood up and poured himself his own drink.
Not speaking.
Silence.
So much silence in this place. Not just Galen’s apartment, but The Colony itself. Everywhere, echoing hallways and big, empty spaces.
Sam sighed. “I just needed to see some new faces,” he admitted.
“Four’s a new face. We think we’re going to call him Simon.”
Sam remembered Simon, their lab assistant. “That’s the point!” Sam said.
“What’s the point?”
“The models!” Sam said, slamming the glass down. “They’re all just…copies. Pieces of us, pieces of people we remember. Don’t you want to meet a new person? One you didn’t build the personality of?”
“And you think the people in your projections are any better?”
“I don’t talk to them,” Sam replied. “I just like to know they’re there.”
“How about me?” Galen asked. “You didn’t build me, and I’m right here.”
“I highly doubt that after ten years, you can do anything to surprise me, Galen.”
Galen smirked. “Bet you a laundry duty.”
Galen dropped the projection, and they were surrounded by the grey expanse of The Colony. Galen walked away, his footsteps echoing through the halls.
Sam didn’t follow him this time. He looked down at the treadmill and pressed the “start” button again. He started to run.
The street was bustling with people…
***
The new one, the Four-Simon-was sitting at the table when Sam arrived for dinner. He was, in fact, a splitting image of the straightforward lab assistant they’d all been fond of. Sam felt a sharp pang of grief. Funny, how he hadn’t even realized this moment how much he missed Simon.
“Hello,” Simon said, cheerily.
“Hello,” Sam replied.
“I see you’ve met our new son,” Ellen said from behind him. “We had a talk with Galen earlier.” She slid into the seat next to him, and he’d been expecting a lecture from her, but her tone didn’t seem angry. Swear to God, if Galen fed her some sob story about how Sam was going through a rough patch and he needed their pity, Sam was going to punch him in the face.
Saul joined the table. “He had a really interesting idea,” Saul said. “Thinks for the next batch, we should try to gather some information from the humans. One of us should really go down there. We think it should be you.”
“Well, Saul and Galen and Tory do. I didn’t think," she said with a wicked smile, "it should be the one of us who’s going to spend the whole time working off some serious sexual fru-”
“Ellen!” Sam protested. She winked.
“But they made me come around,” she said.
Well, what do you know.
Sam did Galen’s laundry shift.
And then he prepared to go to Caprica.
Fandom: BSG
Characters: Final Five
Rating: PG-13 for minor language
Summary: Sam's afternoon jog is interrupted.
Written for bsg_epics Inspiration Day: Tell Me What To Write. The prompt was: "I'd be great to see the Final Five initially merging and a swapping their selves in a projection pre Cavil's mind wipe." Don't know if I actually filled that, LOL, but hope you like it. :)
The street was bustling with people as Sam Anders ran down it. Children chased other children, street vendors sold brightly-colored food, and everyone had a smile on their face. It was a festival day, maybe.
There was music in the air. A song Sam himself had written, actually.
The streets were so busy that Sam had to dodge and weave, but he didn’t care. It made his daily jog more exciting, more friendly. He thought he saw a few faces he knew, in the crowd, in the distance, but they were always gone by the time he reached them.
And then a face he did know. Galen.
“Sam, stop.”
Sam kept running, kept his eyes away, forward, on the faces of the strangers.
But Galen kept appearing. Leaning in open doorways, watching him past. Doorway after doorway.
“Sam, talk to me. Please.”
Sam slowed to a stop. “I just needed to take a break,” he said, panting and leaning over, hands on his knees for effect.
“That’s fine,” Galen replied.
“What do you want?”
Galen shrugged. “Just to talk.”
Sam didn’t answer, but Galen took it for a yes, walking inside. Sam followed.
There was no music inside. In fact, all of the noise from the streets vanished. Galen and Tory’s condo on the outskirts of the city was nothing if not peaceful. Elegant, the perfect place to hold a dinner party-although that was mostly Tory’s influence, Sam knew.
Galen just sat down on the couch. Sam poured himself a drink from the liquor cabinet, not bothering to check the label. It wasn’t so much to drink as to have something to do with his hands. Galen still wasn’t starting.
“Don’t try to psychoanalyze me,” Sam warned. “I read the same manual on group dynamics as you.”
“Fine. Are you going to tell me that you just forgot, Sam, or can we skip to the part where you tell me the truth about why you skipped Four’s birth?”
“I’m not essential personnel for that phase of the process.”
“Bullshit.”
“Pretty sure the manual didn’t tell you to curse,” Sam said.
“This isn't some mission I was sent on to figure out what's wrong with you or something. I just want to know where your head's at.”
He took a sip from the glass. The alcohol burned down his throat-Galen’s presence certainly made itself clear in the liquor. Galen stood up and poured himself his own drink.
Not speaking.
Silence.
So much silence in this place. Not just Galen’s apartment, but The Colony itself. Everywhere, echoing hallways and big, empty spaces.
Sam sighed. “I just needed to see some new faces,” he admitted.
“Four’s a new face. We think we’re going to call him Simon.”
Sam remembered Simon, their lab assistant. “That’s the point!” Sam said.
“What’s the point?”
“The models!” Sam said, slamming the glass down. “They’re all just…copies. Pieces of us, pieces of people we remember. Don’t you want to meet a new person? One you didn’t build the personality of?”
“And you think the people in your projections are any better?”
“I don’t talk to them,” Sam replied. “I just like to know they’re there.”
“How about me?” Galen asked. “You didn’t build me, and I’m right here.”
“I highly doubt that after ten years, you can do anything to surprise me, Galen.”
Galen smirked. “Bet you a laundry duty.”
Galen dropped the projection, and they were surrounded by the grey expanse of The Colony. Galen walked away, his footsteps echoing through the halls.
Sam didn’t follow him this time. He looked down at the treadmill and pressed the “start” button again. He started to run.
The street was bustling with people…
***
The new one, the Four-Simon-was sitting at the table when Sam arrived for dinner. He was, in fact, a splitting image of the straightforward lab assistant they’d all been fond of. Sam felt a sharp pang of grief. Funny, how he hadn’t even realized this moment how much he missed Simon.
“Hello,” Simon said, cheerily.
“Hello,” Sam replied.
“I see you’ve met our new son,” Ellen said from behind him. “We had a talk with Galen earlier.” She slid into the seat next to him, and he’d been expecting a lecture from her, but her tone didn’t seem angry. Swear to God, if Galen fed her some sob story about how Sam was going through a rough patch and he needed their pity, Sam was going to punch him in the face.
Saul joined the table. “He had a really interesting idea,” Saul said. “Thinks for the next batch, we should try to gather some information from the humans. One of us should really go down there. We think it should be you.”
“Well, Saul and Galen and Tory do. I didn’t think," she said with a wicked smile, "it should be the one of us who’s going to spend the whole time working off some serious sexual fru-”
“Ellen!” Sam protested. She winked.
“But they made me come around,” she said.
Well, what do you know.
Sam did Galen’s laundry shift.
And then he prepared to go to Caprica.