~BSG: Head to Head
Title: Head to Head
Author: kastari
Summary: The secret to a successful marriage? Don’t share. At least not everything.
Characters: Adama/Roslin
Rating: T
Word Count: 200
Timeframe: Sometime between “Crossroads, Part II" & “He That Believeth In Me”
Author’s Note: Written for the 17th ar_drabbles challenge. Incorporate canon dialogue. Prompt: music
Disclaimer: I’m just playing in Universal’s sandbox.
Head to Head
“Well, if the quarters become cramped, you’re always welcome in one of my beds … In a manner of speaking.”
Roslin had laughed when he said it. He had, too.
~*~
He emptied a drawer and made space in his closet for her sparse wardrobe.
The enormous leather couch allowed for up close and personal, and distance between them.
He worked at his desk; her space was the table.
His rack-while designed for one-managed to accommodate two.
It was comfortable; all was well.
Until she moved into his bathroom.
Hand washed panties, bras and silken blouses were draped over the towel rack and the shower.
She put the toilet seat down with the lid closed; he left it up and open.
A pharmacy of pill bottles lined the shelves of the medicine cabinet. Her hairbrush and what little she had left of perfume, make-up and powder, cluttered the edge of his sink.
Now there were two razors and two toothbrushes instead of one. He needed to make sure he always grabbed his own.
Bill looked at himself in the mirror.
The thrill was gone.
Roslin had commandeered his head.
It was definitely going to be a battle of the bands.
~finis~
Author: kastari
Summary: The secret to a successful marriage? Don’t share. At least not everything.
Characters: Adama/Roslin
Rating: T
Word Count: 200
Timeframe: Sometime between “Crossroads, Part II" & “He That Believeth In Me”
Author’s Note: Written for the 17th ar_drabbles challenge. Incorporate canon dialogue. Prompt: music
Disclaimer: I’m just playing in Universal’s sandbox.
Head to Head
“Well, if the quarters become cramped, you’re always welcome in one of my beds … In a manner of speaking.”
Roslin had laughed when he said it. He had, too.
~*~
He emptied a drawer and made space in his closet for her sparse wardrobe.
The enormous leather couch allowed for up close and personal, and distance between them.
He worked at his desk; her space was the table.
His rack-while designed for one-managed to accommodate two.
It was comfortable; all was well.
Until she moved into his bathroom.
Hand washed panties, bras and silken blouses were draped over the towel rack and the shower.
She put the toilet seat down with the lid closed; he left it up and open.
A pharmacy of pill bottles lined the shelves of the medicine cabinet. Her hairbrush and what little she had left of perfume, make-up and powder, cluttered the edge of his sink.
Now there were two razors and two toothbrushes instead of one. He needed to make sure he always grabbed his own.
Bill looked at himself in the mirror.
The thrill was gone.
Roslin had commandeered his head.
It was definitely going to be a battle of the bands.
~finis~