BSG FIC :: "Convictions of Impunity" [Laura Roslin/Ellen Tigh] PG13
Title: Convictions of Impunity
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Rating: PG13 for language & adult themes
Pairings: Laura Roslin/Ellen Tigh, mention of Laura/Maya & Ellen/Saul
Date: 1-7 January 2007
Word Count: 2377
Writen for: frogfrizz
Challenge: getyourtoaster holiday round
Summary: Her own convictions are thrown into sharp relief when Laura Roslin requests that Ellen Tigh carry out a tough assignment.
Spoilers: "Lay Down Your Burdens, Parts 1 & 2," "Occupation," & "Precipice"
Website: ShatterStorm Productions - Frisked & Conquered
Link to: http://f-n-c.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Author’s Disclaimer: "Battlestar Galactica," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Ron Moore, David Eick, SciFi, R&D TV, Sky TV, and USA Cable Entertainment LLC. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Battlestar Galactica," SciFi, or any representatives of the actors whose characters are involved.
Title Notes: While coming up with the title of this story, I realized that both characters really are dealing with their convictions with complete impunity. And then I looked up both words to verify I was correct. Per the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary, I got the following definitions:
Main Entry: con•vic•tion
Function: noun
1 : the act or process of convicting of a crime especially in a court of law
2 a : the act of convincing a person of error or of compelling the admission of a truth b : the state of being convinced of error or compelled to admit the truth
3 a : a strong persuasion or belief b : the state of being convinced
synonym see CERTAINTY, OPINION
Main Entry: im•pu•ni•ty
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle French or Latin; Middle French impunité, from Latin impunitat-, impunitas, from impune without punishment, from in- + poena punishment -- more at PAIN
: exemption or freedom from punishment, harm, or loss
Each made complete sense to me for both women in this story, hence the title.
Challenge Notes: So this was written for frogfrizz for the getyourtoaster holiday round. Her requests were as follows:
request 1
pairing: D'anna/Six
rating: HOT...or as hot as you can make it
squicks: none
prompt: plans for humanity
request 2
pairing: Ellen/Roslin
rating: as high as you're comfortable with
squicks: none
prompt: the cylon occupation on New Caprica
request 3
pairing: Dee/Kara
rating: as high as you're comfy with
squicks: no hate sex or character bashing
prompt: officers, pilots, and command with god...
Author’s Notes: I was actually quite thrilled to find out I got frogfrizz to write for. As I looked over these three requests, I immediately began to get ideas for all 3 prompts, which filled my head with ideas of really wowing her with multiple stories. Unfortunately, health, the holidays, and somewhat recalcitrant muses forestalled that idea. Tho' I'm planning on getting the other two ideas written yet, provided my muses cooperate.
What I really liked about this particular prompt that I worked with is that it allowed me to work with Ellen Tigh, who I vacillated back and forth over liking or not throughout her run in the show. As I started this, I planned on Dom!Laura sexing Ellen to get her to do this assignment, but that didn't work out. Instead, I got a really nice character piece that helped me to "redeem" Ellen Tigh, at least in my own mind.
I truly hope frogfrizz likes this….
Beta: Many, many thanks to freifraufischer and lextenou for the beta assistance. It is greatly appreciated, ladies!
Dedication: frogfrizz, for giving me a chance to see a different side of Ellen Tigh. And to my muses, as usual…
"Convictions of Impunity"
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter
I can tell she's hesitating just outside the entrance to the tent; I've even a few ideas of why she's hesitating. But if I know anything about this woman, I know she's no shrinking wallflower. So her exaggerated hesitation must simply be perceived as an attempt at power play on her part.
How sweet.
"Miss Roslin?"
"Yes, Cassandra?" I ask, smiling warmly at the girl shifting from one foot to the other in front of me. The parallel to what I imagine my guest outside is doing isn't lost on me. "Have you finished your arithmetic, dear?"
"Yes, ma'am," she replies with a relieved grin. "It was difficult, but I think I figured it out. Do you--? Um, do you have time to check it over for me?"
"Of course." Reaching for her papers, I motion for her to come around to my side of the desk. We go over each problem carefully, so Cassandra can see that she really does understand the concepts of her work. Her face lights up in a bright smile as she realizes she has indeed mastered what was causing her so many issues.
"Oh thank, you, Miss Roslin!" Cassandra says, gracing me with an impromptu hug. "Um, I better get home now. Mama will wonder where I am."
I glance over toward the tent flaps, realizing the time. "Yes, you go on home and practice this some more tonight, Cassandra. Make sure you go straight home, dear. The Centurions have been patrolling more frequently of late, and we wouldn't want anything to happen to you."
"I'll walk Cassandra home," Maya says softly, suddenly at my other side, as Cassandra moves to pack up her things. "I can take Isis with me."
I can't help but smile at her. "That would be wonderful, Maya. In fact, I'll probably be here for a bit longer while, grading the last of these papers. Perhaps when you and Isis get home, you could start dinner for us?" By the depth of her smile, I know I can count on Maya to do as I've asked. She always has been good at that, starting with her adoption of the very baby we're discussing. "I promise I'll be home as soon as I can."
"I know," she murmurs, fingers lightly caressing my hair, the only outward sign of affection she'll attempt when we're in public, mixed company.
I smile my gratitude and affection to her, tickling Isis' belly before Maya scoops her up to head out with young Cassandra. Maya doesn't even seem surprised to see my reluctant visitor standing out there. I go back to grading the essays from the older students. If she wants to speak with me, she'll need to come in on her terms. I've got all night. Actually, I don't, but I'll certainly let her think that.
It only takes a few moments before I hear the telltale sounds of the flaps being pulled aside as someone enters the tent. For those brief seconds that the flaps are opened, all of the sounds of the encampment are made louder, more starkly realistic than I care to deal with, to be completely honest. I'm also assaulted by the garish scent of cheap perfume parading as expensive, cementing the identity of my visitor.
"Laura?" Her voice is actually quite tentative. "Are you busy?"
"Not at all, Ellen," I reply in a tone as warm as I respond to my children. The only difference? I allow a thread of steel into that tone. No one keeps me waiting. "I'm glad you could make it." Two hours later than specified. She must really be terrified of what I want to see her about. Or she truly doesn't give a gods damned frak about this. I'm not sure which is more palatable at this point.
"I'm sorry I'm late," she begins the excuse. "I was making sure Saul had his dinner before…"
"I commend you on making your lives here as normal as possible." The words come out smoothly as I stand and move around the desk to beckon her closer. "It must be difficult after living a life of relative luxury up on the Galactica. I know I miss Colonial One."
Ellen smiles tightly, reading the jibe intended in my words. She fusses with her hair, her not quite threadbare coat, as if trying to reassure herself of her worth on this worthless rock we've been forced to settle. "I thought it would be best if Saul and I were here, with the others, a show of solidarity I suppose. Isn't that why you're here?"
Nicely leading question. Highly commendable for a woman trying to gain the upper hand that she's never had with me.
"I'm here because…" What to tell her? "I'm here because this is where I need to be. The children need a teacher, someone who will help them become the responsible, upstanding adults they need to be in order to survive this frakking occupation."
"And there's your family, as well?"
I fix her with a pointed stare, the smile spreading across my lips not quite reaching my eyes. "Yes, my family. If you think about it, all of the survivors of the bombings are my family. And like any mother would, I'm going to do what's necessary to keep my family safe. I'd have done it by refusing this settlement if I'd stayed President."
"If you'd stayed President? But you cheated!" Ellen blurts out. "Saul told me all about it: your involvement, his, your assistant's. You all blatantly broke the rules to steal an election that you clearly weren't winning. And from what I've heard, you tried to convince Bill Adama to keep it quiet. What kind of message is that giving to your 'loyal children,' Laura?"
The intensity of her conviction is laudable. Until I remember who I'm talking to, who has underestimated me in the past; and then the sound of my highly amused laughter begins to fill the tent. "Who are you to talk to me of cheating or playing by the rules, Ellen Tigh? You, who kept the Black Market quite happily in business so that you could appear to be living well beyond your means. And I see that life on New Caprica hasn't quelled that desire of yours to be more than you are. So don't you go talking to me about following the rules or not. Am I clear?"
A guilty nod is her only response as she sinks into one of the chairs to rest her head in her hands. I watch her for several moments, considering how I'm going to approach her with my request. It's not as if I can just demand something of her after I've chastised her. Or can I? Ellen Tigh and I have never exactly been known to see things eye to eye. She was the bane of Bill's existence, and mine, when we were still the Fleet.
"I'm sorry, Laura," comes her soft apology finally. "We shouldn't be at each other's throats, not with the Cylons breathing down our necks as they are. Did you know that they're rounding up more and more of our people? It's terrifying to hear those frakking centurions stomping around in the middle of the night. I can hardly sleep any more for fear of being taken."
I consider her words, her demeanor, and realize she's seriously terrified. This is no act; there are no crocodile tears; there is no fear of reprisal. I think this may well be the most honest I've ever seen Ellen Tigh. And, loathe as I am to admit it, I'm wondering if I can honestly ask her to do what I need done. But then I remember the fear in Maya's eyes each and every time those same centurions come near our tent; the abject terror I feel that Isis may be taken from us. No, I need to do this, no matter the cost. After all, isn't that the cardinal rule of a good leader? Make the hard sacrifices of the few that need to be made for the benefit of the masses? Saul Tigh is a good man, but his wife isn't exactly known to be above the law when it comes to her needs and desires. There is no one else I can trust to do this. And yet, I don't trust Ellen Tigh. Lords of Kobol, I knew leading the resistance wouldn't be easy, but can't I at least have a break or two?
"You, um, you wanted to speak to me about something?" Ellen asks, breaking the silence of my thoughts again.
Be a leader, Laura. Do what you need to do to ensure the safety of your people. Do what you need to do to ensure the safety of the child…and Maya. Be selfish if you must, but do this.
The mantra runs through my mind, over and over again. I take a deep breath and move to lean against the table in front of hers. "There's something I need you to do, but I'm not sure you'll be willing to do it. And, after my treatment of you over the years, not to mention just now, you've every right to refuse my request."
She raises her head to study me, and I weather the scrutiny with impunity. Nothing she can say or do at this point can harm me. Even if she goes to the Cylons and reveals my role in the resistance. There are dozens, hundreds of people who will refute her claims. Plus? It's not as if Ellen Tigh has ever been a woman to remain true to her word. She certainly isn't true to her marriage. But on the other hand, her husband is just as deep in the resistance as I am, and I sincerely doubt she'd do anything to jeopardize him or his safety.
"You want me to do something dangerous, don't you?" Her words are soft, curious, but laced with a strength of conviction I've rarely heard from her. "Something less than desirable?"
I nod tightly, once again feeling the profound mantle of responsibility settling so heavily on my shoulders. "It would appear some of your… baser talents could be a boon to us. There have been rumors that one of the Brother Cavil models has been enjoying the--"
"You want me to seduce him, don't you?" I blink in surprise at her candor, and she chuckles darkly. "See if perhaps he's loose-lipped when well-frakked?"
"The idea does have its merits, as well as its dangers," I reply, not exactly answering her question.
"And who better to ask than Saul Tigh's frakking slut of a wife, right?" A self-deprecating, snide tone creeps into her voice.
"I never said--"
"You don't have to, Laura." Her voice is oddly matter-of-fact as she pointedly meets my gaze. "I know what people say about me. Part of me can't really deny the truth, but part of me can't help myself. I love my husband, don't ever think that I don't, and I need him in ways I can't actually describe. But at the same time?" She attempts a smile and nonchalant shrug that really do fall short of believable. "I'm just a good time girl at heart, I suppose."
"You don't have to do this, Ellen," I say, not even surprised by how weary I sound. Some days being the resistance leader on this gods-forsaken rock is harder than dealing with the cancer. "There are other ways of gaining information."
"But nothing this immediate," Ellen interrupts. "Please, Laura, give me a little credit. I know you wouldn't have asked me if you didn't think I was the best person for the job. And I'm quite sure Saul knows nothing about this, does he?"
I shake my head, voice temporarily giving out, and clear my throat to force it back into service. "Not by a long shot. I would hope you'd give me enough credit to leave that to your discretion to tell him."
"Thank you," she whispers gratefully and blinks rapidly a few times. "I know there are things he does that I don't know about, and am probably better off not knowing about." When I reluctantly nod, she echoes the movement and smiles ruefully. "Then it seems only right that there be things about me he never needs to know."
"Agreed."
"Like I said, Laura, I love my husband and I would do anything for him. And if prostituting myself has the potential to keep him safe and sound, in addition to helping us beat those frakking toasters, then I'll do it."
Decision made, her smile turns more determined, and I can't help but reach over to brush at the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. Perhaps I've underestimated Ellen Tigh. Perhaps not. But the time for that debate is not this very instant.
"Go home to your husband, Ellen," I say huskily, feeling the need to be home with Maya and the baby. "Show him what he means to you, and don't think I won't forget what you're willing to do for him, me, all of us. And if you do change your mind, I give you my word that I won't hold it against you in any way."
My words must meet with her approval, as I'm rewarded with one of Ellen Tigh's broad, open smiles. Quite a rare thing, indeed. And then she's standing up and coming around the table to wrap me in a quick embrace before heading out of the tent toward her husband and her life. It takes me several moments to compose myself enough to clean up the papers on my desk. I suddenly have no desire to be alone here with only my students' papers for company.
Wrapping my sweater more tightly about myself, I wander out into the darkening night toward my home and my family. It doesn't matter what subterfuge may have created the illusion of my family. Maya and Isis are of the utmost importance to me now, just as Saul is to Ellen Tigh. She's making quite a sacrifice for her husband. And I have to wonder… Could I be so strong for my family if push came to shove?
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Rating: PG13 for language & adult themes
Pairings: Laura Roslin/Ellen Tigh, mention of Laura/Maya & Ellen/Saul
Date: 1-7 January 2007
Word Count: 2377
Writen for: frogfrizz
Challenge: getyourtoaster holiday round
Summary: Her own convictions are thrown into sharp relief when Laura Roslin requests that Ellen Tigh carry out a tough assignment.
Spoilers: "Lay Down Your Burdens, Parts 1 & 2," "Occupation," & "Precipice"
Website: ShatterStorm Productions - Frisked & Conquered
Link to: http://f-n-c.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Author’s Disclaimer: "Battlestar Galactica," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Ron Moore, David Eick, SciFi, R&D TV, Sky TV, and USA Cable Entertainment LLC. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Battlestar Galactica," SciFi, or any representatives of the actors whose characters are involved.
Title Notes: While coming up with the title of this story, I realized that both characters really are dealing with their convictions with complete impunity. And then I looked up both words to verify I was correct. Per the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary, I got the following definitions:
Main Entry: con•vic•tion
Function: noun
1 : the act or process of convicting of a crime especially in a court of law
2 a : the act of convincing a person of error or of compelling the admission of a truth b : the state of being convinced of error or compelled to admit the truth
3 a : a strong persuasion or belief b : the state of being convinced
synonym see CERTAINTY, OPINION
Main Entry: im•pu•ni•ty
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle French or Latin; Middle French impunité, from Latin impunitat-, impunitas, from impune without punishment, from in- + poena punishment -- more at PAIN
: exemption or freedom from punishment, harm, or loss
Each made complete sense to me for both women in this story, hence the title.
Challenge Notes: So this was written for frogfrizz for the getyourtoaster holiday round. Her requests were as follows:
request 1
pairing: D'anna/Six
rating: HOT...or as hot as you can make it
squicks: none
prompt: plans for humanity
request 2
pairing: Ellen/Roslin
rating: as high as you're comfortable with
squicks: none
prompt: the cylon occupation on New Caprica
request 3
pairing: Dee/Kara
rating: as high as you're comfy with
squicks: no hate sex or character bashing
prompt: officers, pilots, and command with god...
Author’s Notes: I was actually quite thrilled to find out I got frogfrizz to write for. As I looked over these three requests, I immediately began to get ideas for all 3 prompts, which filled my head with ideas of really wowing her with multiple stories. Unfortunately, health, the holidays, and somewhat recalcitrant muses forestalled that idea. Tho' I'm planning on getting the other two ideas written yet, provided my muses cooperate.
What I really liked about this particular prompt that I worked with is that it allowed me to work with Ellen Tigh, who I vacillated back and forth over liking or not throughout her run in the show. As I started this, I planned on Dom!Laura sexing Ellen to get her to do this assignment, but that didn't work out. Instead, I got a really nice character piece that helped me to "redeem" Ellen Tigh, at least in my own mind.
I truly hope frogfrizz likes this….
Beta: Many, many thanks to freifraufischer and lextenou for the beta assistance. It is greatly appreciated, ladies!
Dedication: frogfrizz, for giving me a chance to see a different side of Ellen Tigh. And to my muses, as usual…
"Convictions of Impunity"
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter
I can tell she's hesitating just outside the entrance to the tent; I've even a few ideas of why she's hesitating. But if I know anything about this woman, I know she's no shrinking wallflower. So her exaggerated hesitation must simply be perceived as an attempt at power play on her part.
How sweet.
"Miss Roslin?"
"Yes, Cassandra?" I ask, smiling warmly at the girl shifting from one foot to the other in front of me. The parallel to what I imagine my guest outside is doing isn't lost on me. "Have you finished your arithmetic, dear?"
"Yes, ma'am," she replies with a relieved grin. "It was difficult, but I think I figured it out. Do you--? Um, do you have time to check it over for me?"
"Of course." Reaching for her papers, I motion for her to come around to my side of the desk. We go over each problem carefully, so Cassandra can see that she really does understand the concepts of her work. Her face lights up in a bright smile as she realizes she has indeed mastered what was causing her so many issues.
"Oh thank, you, Miss Roslin!" Cassandra says, gracing me with an impromptu hug. "Um, I better get home now. Mama will wonder where I am."
I glance over toward the tent flaps, realizing the time. "Yes, you go on home and practice this some more tonight, Cassandra. Make sure you go straight home, dear. The Centurions have been patrolling more frequently of late, and we wouldn't want anything to happen to you."
"I'll walk Cassandra home," Maya says softly, suddenly at my other side, as Cassandra moves to pack up her things. "I can take Isis with me."
I can't help but smile at her. "That would be wonderful, Maya. In fact, I'll probably be here for a bit longer while, grading the last of these papers. Perhaps when you and Isis get home, you could start dinner for us?" By the depth of her smile, I know I can count on Maya to do as I've asked. She always has been good at that, starting with her adoption of the very baby we're discussing. "I promise I'll be home as soon as I can."
"I know," she murmurs, fingers lightly caressing my hair, the only outward sign of affection she'll attempt when we're in public, mixed company.
I smile my gratitude and affection to her, tickling Isis' belly before Maya scoops her up to head out with young Cassandra. Maya doesn't even seem surprised to see my reluctant visitor standing out there. I go back to grading the essays from the older students. If she wants to speak with me, she'll need to come in on her terms. I've got all night. Actually, I don't, but I'll certainly let her think that.
It only takes a few moments before I hear the telltale sounds of the flaps being pulled aside as someone enters the tent. For those brief seconds that the flaps are opened, all of the sounds of the encampment are made louder, more starkly realistic than I care to deal with, to be completely honest. I'm also assaulted by the garish scent of cheap perfume parading as expensive, cementing the identity of my visitor.
"Laura?" Her voice is actually quite tentative. "Are you busy?"
"Not at all, Ellen," I reply in a tone as warm as I respond to my children. The only difference? I allow a thread of steel into that tone. No one keeps me waiting. "I'm glad you could make it." Two hours later than specified. She must really be terrified of what I want to see her about. Or she truly doesn't give a gods damned frak about this. I'm not sure which is more palatable at this point.
"I'm sorry I'm late," she begins the excuse. "I was making sure Saul had his dinner before…"
"I commend you on making your lives here as normal as possible." The words come out smoothly as I stand and move around the desk to beckon her closer. "It must be difficult after living a life of relative luxury up on the Galactica. I know I miss Colonial One."
Ellen smiles tightly, reading the jibe intended in my words. She fusses with her hair, her not quite threadbare coat, as if trying to reassure herself of her worth on this worthless rock we've been forced to settle. "I thought it would be best if Saul and I were here, with the others, a show of solidarity I suppose. Isn't that why you're here?"
Nicely leading question. Highly commendable for a woman trying to gain the upper hand that she's never had with me.
"I'm here because…" What to tell her? "I'm here because this is where I need to be. The children need a teacher, someone who will help them become the responsible, upstanding adults they need to be in order to survive this frakking occupation."
"And there's your family, as well?"
I fix her with a pointed stare, the smile spreading across my lips not quite reaching my eyes. "Yes, my family. If you think about it, all of the survivors of the bombings are my family. And like any mother would, I'm going to do what's necessary to keep my family safe. I'd have done it by refusing this settlement if I'd stayed President."
"If you'd stayed President? But you cheated!" Ellen blurts out. "Saul told me all about it: your involvement, his, your assistant's. You all blatantly broke the rules to steal an election that you clearly weren't winning. And from what I've heard, you tried to convince Bill Adama to keep it quiet. What kind of message is that giving to your 'loyal children,' Laura?"
The intensity of her conviction is laudable. Until I remember who I'm talking to, who has underestimated me in the past; and then the sound of my highly amused laughter begins to fill the tent. "Who are you to talk to me of cheating or playing by the rules, Ellen Tigh? You, who kept the Black Market quite happily in business so that you could appear to be living well beyond your means. And I see that life on New Caprica hasn't quelled that desire of yours to be more than you are. So don't you go talking to me about following the rules or not. Am I clear?"
A guilty nod is her only response as she sinks into one of the chairs to rest her head in her hands. I watch her for several moments, considering how I'm going to approach her with my request. It's not as if I can just demand something of her after I've chastised her. Or can I? Ellen Tigh and I have never exactly been known to see things eye to eye. She was the bane of Bill's existence, and mine, when we were still the Fleet.
"I'm sorry, Laura," comes her soft apology finally. "We shouldn't be at each other's throats, not with the Cylons breathing down our necks as they are. Did you know that they're rounding up more and more of our people? It's terrifying to hear those frakking centurions stomping around in the middle of the night. I can hardly sleep any more for fear of being taken."
I consider her words, her demeanor, and realize she's seriously terrified. This is no act; there are no crocodile tears; there is no fear of reprisal. I think this may well be the most honest I've ever seen Ellen Tigh. And, loathe as I am to admit it, I'm wondering if I can honestly ask her to do what I need done. But then I remember the fear in Maya's eyes each and every time those same centurions come near our tent; the abject terror I feel that Isis may be taken from us. No, I need to do this, no matter the cost. After all, isn't that the cardinal rule of a good leader? Make the hard sacrifices of the few that need to be made for the benefit of the masses? Saul Tigh is a good man, but his wife isn't exactly known to be above the law when it comes to her needs and desires. There is no one else I can trust to do this. And yet, I don't trust Ellen Tigh. Lords of Kobol, I knew leading the resistance wouldn't be easy, but can't I at least have a break or two?
"You, um, you wanted to speak to me about something?" Ellen asks, breaking the silence of my thoughts again.
Be a leader, Laura. Do what you need to do to ensure the safety of your people. Do what you need to do to ensure the safety of the child…and Maya. Be selfish if you must, but do this.
The mantra runs through my mind, over and over again. I take a deep breath and move to lean against the table in front of hers. "There's something I need you to do, but I'm not sure you'll be willing to do it. And, after my treatment of you over the years, not to mention just now, you've every right to refuse my request."
She raises her head to study me, and I weather the scrutiny with impunity. Nothing she can say or do at this point can harm me. Even if she goes to the Cylons and reveals my role in the resistance. There are dozens, hundreds of people who will refute her claims. Plus? It's not as if Ellen Tigh has ever been a woman to remain true to her word. She certainly isn't true to her marriage. But on the other hand, her husband is just as deep in the resistance as I am, and I sincerely doubt she'd do anything to jeopardize him or his safety.
"You want me to do something dangerous, don't you?" Her words are soft, curious, but laced with a strength of conviction I've rarely heard from her. "Something less than desirable?"
I nod tightly, once again feeling the profound mantle of responsibility settling so heavily on my shoulders. "It would appear some of your… baser talents could be a boon to us. There have been rumors that one of the Brother Cavil models has been enjoying the--"
"You want me to seduce him, don't you?" I blink in surprise at her candor, and she chuckles darkly. "See if perhaps he's loose-lipped when well-frakked?"
"The idea does have its merits, as well as its dangers," I reply, not exactly answering her question.
"And who better to ask than Saul Tigh's frakking slut of a wife, right?" A self-deprecating, snide tone creeps into her voice.
"I never said--"
"You don't have to, Laura." Her voice is oddly matter-of-fact as she pointedly meets my gaze. "I know what people say about me. Part of me can't really deny the truth, but part of me can't help myself. I love my husband, don't ever think that I don't, and I need him in ways I can't actually describe. But at the same time?" She attempts a smile and nonchalant shrug that really do fall short of believable. "I'm just a good time girl at heart, I suppose."
"You don't have to do this, Ellen," I say, not even surprised by how weary I sound. Some days being the resistance leader on this gods-forsaken rock is harder than dealing with the cancer. "There are other ways of gaining information."
"But nothing this immediate," Ellen interrupts. "Please, Laura, give me a little credit. I know you wouldn't have asked me if you didn't think I was the best person for the job. And I'm quite sure Saul knows nothing about this, does he?"
I shake my head, voice temporarily giving out, and clear my throat to force it back into service. "Not by a long shot. I would hope you'd give me enough credit to leave that to your discretion to tell him."
"Thank you," she whispers gratefully and blinks rapidly a few times. "I know there are things he does that I don't know about, and am probably better off not knowing about." When I reluctantly nod, she echoes the movement and smiles ruefully. "Then it seems only right that there be things about me he never needs to know."
"Agreed."
"Like I said, Laura, I love my husband and I would do anything for him. And if prostituting myself has the potential to keep him safe and sound, in addition to helping us beat those frakking toasters, then I'll do it."
Decision made, her smile turns more determined, and I can't help but reach over to brush at the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. Perhaps I've underestimated Ellen Tigh. Perhaps not. But the time for that debate is not this very instant.
"Go home to your husband, Ellen," I say huskily, feeling the need to be home with Maya and the baby. "Show him what he means to you, and don't think I won't forget what you're willing to do for him, me, all of us. And if you do change your mind, I give you my word that I won't hold it against you in any way."
My words must meet with her approval, as I'm rewarded with one of Ellen Tigh's broad, open smiles. Quite a rare thing, indeed. And then she's standing up and coming around the table to wrap me in a quick embrace before heading out of the tent toward her husband and her life. It takes me several moments to compose myself enough to clean up the papers on my desk. I suddenly have no desire to be alone here with only my students' papers for company.
Wrapping my sweater more tightly about myself, I wander out into the darkening night toward my home and my family. It doesn't matter what subterfuge may have created the illusion of my family. Maya and Isis are of the utmost importance to me now, just as Saul is to Ellen Tigh. She's making quite a sacrifice for her husband. And I have to wonder… Could I be so strong for my family if push came to shove?