Archival purposes
Just dropping off some drabbles I've posted in assorted communities. :)
Study Break
She didn't pretend to understand his babbling hyper-scientific chatter, coming in bursts like machine gun fire, but instead focused on his lips as they moved, leaning unconsciously closer, imagining a surprised halt of words if she kissed him.
“Cadet Thrace?” he asked, and she leaned back, all innocence. “Are you listening?”
“Sure,” she replied. “Just multiply the carom by the bearing and then you get the degree of drift.”
Cadet Agathon’s dismay was palpable. “That’s not even remotely correct!”
“Oh well,” she said, slamming her textbook closed. “So how long until your roommate gets back?”
He swallowed. “There’s no way you’re going to pass your navigation final tomorrow if we stop now.”
“So I fail,” she said. “What’s the worst that can happen? I have to repeat it, and you’re my TA again?” She grinned, doing what she’d been thinking about all night and kissing him. He could pretend to be a stodgy nerd all he wanted, but she knew the truth: he leaned into the kiss, his lips warm and willing. She pushed him back onto the bed, pinning him by his hands. “It’s worked out pretty well for me so far.”
Seeking
There was no village where she belonged-while among their sisters Athena was respected, loved, for her choice, Boomer was met only with scorn. So she slipped into the darkness, across the plains, and never looked back. She rose every day with the sun, sleeping when it did. Walking to something she couldn’t articulate. In the cold lands, she found the sea, and wanting to see what lay beyond, she build a boat. She found shore sooner than expected, and standing on the rocks was a man. As she got closer, she realized what-who-she had been searching for.
Bloom
Whether she’s rising early or too excited to go to sleep in the first place, he doesn’t know, but Hera’s up watching the sunrise. He’s struck by an intense combination of pride and sadness-pride for the woman she’s become, but he’s going to miss seeing her first thing.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” he whispers, and she nods.
They walk through the blossoming spring fields and pick flowers, like they did when she was a girl. He ties the bouquet together with a long blade of grass, and she carries it that afternoon, at her wedding.
At Peace
Hera had been born in a time of fear, of war, of discord. As bright and shining a moment her birth had been, the Agathons had been surrounded on all sides by darkness. And so though Karl has known love like this before, he has never known such joy as when Sharon passes him their son for the first time: a representation of all they’ve built on this planet. Peace between Human and Cylon, a successful harvest, a world without hated. Hera looks up at them and Karl kneels.
“Hello, Pax,” Hera whispers, kissing her little brother on the forehead.
That's Love
Kara was the kind of girl who’d ditch a man if he was too squeamish to pick up tampons for her at the grocery store. Never mind that Sam knew for a fact that some were delivered every month with her clean uniforms, she still sent him out occasionally to find some on the black market.
He knew it wasn’t about control (he wouldn’t love her if that were the case), or her claim that the black market ones were better (what made a tampon “better” was a mystery he’d rather not dwell on). He figured it was more about her knowing that she was with someone who could take the bad with the good. If he wanted access to her vagina, he had to deal with the fact that occasionally it bled. Which he did, pretty badly, so he did, without complaint.
Toast
Sam seemed to take to the pilots’ rec room immediately. It was really the first time Kara had seen him this casual, and he was clearly in his element, all easy smiles and offered hands. She was surprised by how many people recognized him, how many people asked him to sign something, even after the end of the worlds.
Duck weaseled his way to the front of the crowd. “Samuel T. Anders,” he said, noticeably starstruck. “We are so glad to have you aboard.”
“Not as glad as I am to be here,” Sam replied, squeezing Kara’s side. “Hey, we’ve met, haven’t we?”
Tucker grinned, recognized by a celebrity, the most pleased Kara had ever seen him, including the time Nora lost strip triad. “You signed a ball for me at a party after the Wildcats game last year.” Duck flushed. “I still have it, actually.”
“You’re the friend Richie brought, right?”
“Right!”
“You wanna switch places with me, fanboy?” Kara teased.
Sam set his beer down on the table with a loud thump, still engrossed. “I totally forgot Galactica was Richie’s ship.” All of the easy, personable Samuel T. Anders was gone, replaced by just a guy with sad hopefulness in his voice. “Is…is he onboard?”
“Richie?” Kara asked.
“Jolly,” Duck clarified, flat.
Oh…
…Gods. Lieutenant Richard Anders. Of course.
“He was your…”
“My cousin,” Sam replied. “So I assume that’s a no?”
“He died in the first wave,” Kara said. Wouldn't have been, if Kara hadn't hit the Colonel-- “I’m so sorry, Sam.”
Sam took a deep, shuddering breath. “Of course. I’d already accepted that my whole family was dead, but you know, for a second…”
Duck raised his glass. “To Jolly,” he said, and the entire room stopped what they were doing to raise with him.
“To Jolly,” they echoed.
“A good pilot,” Rocket said.
“A frakking great man,” Helo added.
“Family,” Sam said.
“Our family, too,” Kara replied.
“So say we all.”
“So say we all.”
Toast finished and glasses down, Kara turned to Sam and examined his face. “You know, I can totally see the family resemblance now,” she pronounced.
“Doubt it,” he said, taking a swig of beer. “I’m adopted.” Grin starting to peek back out, Samuel T. Anders returning slowly. “But good effort.”
Study Break
She didn't pretend to understand his babbling hyper-scientific chatter, coming in bursts like machine gun fire, but instead focused on his lips as they moved, leaning unconsciously closer, imagining a surprised halt of words if she kissed him.
“Cadet Thrace?” he asked, and she leaned back, all innocence. “Are you listening?”
“Sure,” she replied. “Just multiply the carom by the bearing and then you get the degree of drift.”
Cadet Agathon’s dismay was palpable. “That’s not even remotely correct!”
“Oh well,” she said, slamming her textbook closed. “So how long until your roommate gets back?”
He swallowed. “There’s no way you’re going to pass your navigation final tomorrow if we stop now.”
“So I fail,” she said. “What’s the worst that can happen? I have to repeat it, and you’re my TA again?” She grinned, doing what she’d been thinking about all night and kissing him. He could pretend to be a stodgy nerd all he wanted, but she knew the truth: he leaned into the kiss, his lips warm and willing. She pushed him back onto the bed, pinning him by his hands. “It’s worked out pretty well for me so far.”
Seeking
There was no village where she belonged-while among their sisters Athena was respected, loved, for her choice, Boomer was met only with scorn. So she slipped into the darkness, across the plains, and never looked back. She rose every day with the sun, sleeping when it did. Walking to something she couldn’t articulate. In the cold lands, she found the sea, and wanting to see what lay beyond, she build a boat. She found shore sooner than expected, and standing on the rocks was a man. As she got closer, she realized what-who-she had been searching for.
Bloom
Whether she’s rising early or too excited to go to sleep in the first place, he doesn’t know, but Hera’s up watching the sunrise. He’s struck by an intense combination of pride and sadness-pride for the woman she’s become, but he’s going to miss seeing her first thing.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” he whispers, and she nods.
They walk through the blossoming spring fields and pick flowers, like they did when she was a girl. He ties the bouquet together with a long blade of grass, and she carries it that afternoon, at her wedding.
At Peace
Hera had been born in a time of fear, of war, of discord. As bright and shining a moment her birth had been, the Agathons had been surrounded on all sides by darkness. And so though Karl has known love like this before, he has never known such joy as when Sharon passes him their son for the first time: a representation of all they’ve built on this planet. Peace between Human and Cylon, a successful harvest, a world without hated. Hera looks up at them and Karl kneels.
“Hello, Pax,” Hera whispers, kissing her little brother on the forehead.
That's Love
Kara was the kind of girl who’d ditch a man if he was too squeamish to pick up tampons for her at the grocery store. Never mind that Sam knew for a fact that some were delivered every month with her clean uniforms, she still sent him out occasionally to find some on the black market.
He knew it wasn’t about control (he wouldn’t love her if that were the case), or her claim that the black market ones were better (what made a tampon “better” was a mystery he’d rather not dwell on). He figured it was more about her knowing that she was with someone who could take the bad with the good. If he wanted access to her vagina, he had to deal with the fact that occasionally it bled. Which he did, pretty badly, so he did, without complaint.
Toast
Sam seemed to take to the pilots’ rec room immediately. It was really the first time Kara had seen him this casual, and he was clearly in his element, all easy smiles and offered hands. She was surprised by how many people recognized him, how many people asked him to sign something, even after the end of the worlds.
Duck weaseled his way to the front of the crowd. “Samuel T. Anders,” he said, noticeably starstruck. “We are so glad to have you aboard.”
“Not as glad as I am to be here,” Sam replied, squeezing Kara’s side. “Hey, we’ve met, haven’t we?”
Tucker grinned, recognized by a celebrity, the most pleased Kara had ever seen him, including the time Nora lost strip triad. “You signed a ball for me at a party after the Wildcats game last year.” Duck flushed. “I still have it, actually.”
“You’re the friend Richie brought, right?”
“Right!”
“You wanna switch places with me, fanboy?” Kara teased.
Sam set his beer down on the table with a loud thump, still engrossed. “I totally forgot Galactica was Richie’s ship.” All of the easy, personable Samuel T. Anders was gone, replaced by just a guy with sad hopefulness in his voice. “Is…is he onboard?”
“Richie?” Kara asked.
“Jolly,” Duck clarified, flat.
Oh…
…Gods. Lieutenant Richard Anders. Of course.
“He was your…”
“My cousin,” Sam replied. “So I assume that’s a no?”
“He died in the first wave,” Kara said. Wouldn't have been, if Kara hadn't hit the Colonel-- “I’m so sorry, Sam.”
Sam took a deep, shuddering breath. “Of course. I’d already accepted that my whole family was dead, but you know, for a second…”
Duck raised his glass. “To Jolly,” he said, and the entire room stopped what they were doing to raise with him.
“To Jolly,” they echoed.
“A good pilot,” Rocket said.
“A frakking great man,” Helo added.
“Family,” Sam said.
“Our family, too,” Kara replied.
“So say we all.”
“So say we all.”
Toast finished and glasses down, Kara turned to Sam and examined his face. “You know, I can totally see the family resemblance now,” she pronounced.
“Doubt it,” he said, taking a swig of beer. “I’m adopted.” Grin starting to peek back out, Samuel T. Anders returning slowly. “But good effort.”