X-Posted to slashthedrabble too...
“Pride & Humility”
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Laura Roslin/Kara ‘Starbuck’ Thrace
Spoilers/Notes: I’m all turned around by where seasons end (bought the entire series en-lump on iTunes) so I’m just going to say ‘all of it’ to be safe - but mostly “THE HAND OF GOD”…
Disclaimer: I do not own, I am making no profit of any kind (losing income if anything), and I have no intention on infringing on any copyrights.
Warnings: Never ‘Drabbled’ before… lemme know if I did it wrong?
Words: 385
Starbuck is a living myth among the fleet; the Top Gun of Galatica since before the initial attacks, and the single hurdle between every bold-soul and their wet dream of being a Viper Pilot. She’s thrown beatings on the ExO, seduced a Cylon Raider into submitting to her charms, fought in the resistance on Caprica and then again down on New Caprica. All three Adamas have loved her mercilessly and she flaunts it. She’s cigars, shades, swagger and a smirk.
But Laura was a schoolteacher long before she was a politician, decades before she was the president of anything. She knows kids like Kara Thrace; children so scared of things they love, who come to love things that scare most people. She thrives in the unpredictable because it’s familiar to her. This was a little girl who never knew if she’d be hugged or hit, loved or laughed at. Cocky, Self-Proclaiming, Prideful.
Laura remembers the gravel to Lt. Thrace’s voice as she told Bill Adama she never asked for the responsibility of the lives of others, the tension whispered into a fatherly ear. She remembers the sound of knuckles cracking nervously, bent back sharply on the War Table, and knows there’s something there.
She remembers arms wrapped around her when it was the Lieutenant who was being congratulated. In the moment of initial shock she forgot that this woman’s exuberantly proud face was so delicate. Laura’s instinctual freezing came from weeks, months, of no one extending more than a diplomatic hand to her. But at hearing the honest embarrassment and the inflection in her tone, “Madam President”, Laura spoke quietly to her. Gave the respect of her well-deserved rank before softly thanking her and approaching slowly and offering a lingering embrace. She waited until Kara pulled away.
So when, months later, she was being kissed against her makeshift desk down on New Caprica - she felt like she shouldn’t have been shocked. The fingers pulling so hard on her sweater they were now woven into the fabric, the lack of rotgut on the other woman’s breath, the way the girl adjusted so easily to just calling her Laura… The fear and the hesitation so obvious in their apparent absence let her know. This girl had learned Humility long before she had ever found her Pride.
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Laura Roslin/Kara ‘Starbuck’ Thrace
Spoilers/Notes: I’m all turned around by where seasons end (bought the entire series en-lump on iTunes) so I’m just going to say ‘all of it’ to be safe - but mostly “THE HAND OF GOD”…
Disclaimer: I do not own, I am making no profit of any kind (losing income if anything), and I have no intention on infringing on any copyrights.
Warnings: Never ‘Drabbled’ before… lemme know if I did it wrong?
Words: 385
Starbuck is a living myth among the fleet; the Top Gun of Galatica since before the initial attacks, and the single hurdle between every bold-soul and their wet dream of being a Viper Pilot. She’s thrown beatings on the ExO, seduced a Cylon Raider into submitting to her charms, fought in the resistance on Caprica and then again down on New Caprica. All three Adamas have loved her mercilessly and she flaunts it. She’s cigars, shades, swagger and a smirk.
But Laura was a schoolteacher long before she was a politician, decades before she was the president of anything. She knows kids like Kara Thrace; children so scared of things they love, who come to love things that scare most people. She thrives in the unpredictable because it’s familiar to her. This was a little girl who never knew if she’d be hugged or hit, loved or laughed at. Cocky, Self-Proclaiming, Prideful.
Laura remembers the gravel to Lt. Thrace’s voice as she told Bill Adama she never asked for the responsibility of the lives of others, the tension whispered into a fatherly ear. She remembers the sound of knuckles cracking nervously, bent back sharply on the War Table, and knows there’s something there.
She remembers arms wrapped around her when it was the Lieutenant who was being congratulated. In the moment of initial shock she forgot that this woman’s exuberantly proud face was so delicate. Laura’s instinctual freezing came from weeks, months, of no one extending more than a diplomatic hand to her. But at hearing the honest embarrassment and the inflection in her tone, “Madam President”, Laura spoke quietly to her. Gave the respect of her well-deserved rank before softly thanking her and approaching slowly and offering a lingering embrace. She waited until Kara pulled away.
So when, months later, she was being kissed against her makeshift desk down on New Caprica - she felt like she shouldn’t have been shocked. The fingers pulling so hard on her sweater they were now woven into the fabric, the lack of rotgut on the other woman’s breath, the way the girl adjusted so easily to just calling her Laura… The fear and the hesitation so obvious in their apparent absence let her know. This girl had learned Humility long before she had ever found her Pride.