And the people shall lead
for ar_drabbles challenge #18, "Things I can't do on Colonial One"
It had been another of those dreams, the kind of dream that made her glad women didn't have to clean up afterward. She was left vaguely unsatisfied and considered what could be done about it.
The night around her was quiet. She could hear the air scrubbers and an annoying low buzz which took a few moments to place. She smiled; she wasn't the only one frustrated tonight. One of the refugees bunked in the area outside her room had managed to hold onto a vibrator through the destruction of the Colonies, the running, New Caprica.
Somewhere a cot creaked. She couldn't tell if it held one occupant or two, but the rhythm was familiar as a lullaby.
Maybe the party, the alcohol and music, was a mistake. Maybe it had made people think too much of the good times on New Caprica. Maybe it had filled them with nostalgia and longing.
Maybe Bill was still awake.
She picked up the phone and asked for him. "Did I wake you?"
"Just going over reports."
"Missed you tonight."
"Didn't want it to become a celebration of the military. You deserve a party for surviving that mudball."
"You deserve one, too."
"Someday."
From the next room she heard a sharp oh, gods, a shh, and a muffled laugh. "Why not today?"
"It's late. You must be exhausted, Laura. Why aren't you in bed?"
"I am in bed. That's why I called."
"Oh."
Laura waited a moment for it to sink into Bill's thick skull.
"I can come over, if you feel the need for an urgent meeting, Madam President-to-be."
"I'll come to you. I've shown you my cabin. Time to show me yours."
"You've been in my cabin hundreds of times."
"I've been in your quarters, Bill. Now I want your cabin."
It had been another of those dreams, the kind of dream that made her glad women didn't have to clean up afterward. She was left vaguely unsatisfied and considered what could be done about it.
The night around her was quiet. She could hear the air scrubbers and an annoying low buzz which took a few moments to place. She smiled; she wasn't the only one frustrated tonight. One of the refugees bunked in the area outside her room had managed to hold onto a vibrator through the destruction of the Colonies, the running, New Caprica.
Somewhere a cot creaked. She couldn't tell if it held one occupant or two, but the rhythm was familiar as a lullaby.
Maybe the party, the alcohol and music, was a mistake. Maybe it had made people think too much of the good times on New Caprica. Maybe it had filled them with nostalgia and longing.
Maybe Bill was still awake.
She picked up the phone and asked for him. "Did I wake you?"
"Just going over reports."
"Missed you tonight."
"Didn't want it to become a celebration of the military. You deserve a party for surviving that mudball."
"You deserve one, too."
"Someday."
From the next room she heard a sharp oh, gods, a shh, and a muffled laugh. "Why not today?"
"It's late. You must be exhausted, Laura. Why aren't you in bed?"
"I am in bed. That's why I called."
"Oh."
Laura waited a moment for it to sink into Bill's thick skull.
"I can come over, if you feel the need for an urgent meeting, Madam President-to-be."
"I'll come to you. I've shown you my cabin. Time to show me yours."
"You've been in my cabin hundreds of times."
"I've been in your quarters, Bill. Now I want your cabin."