Paper Moon
Title: Paper Moon
Date posted: 10-21-09
Fandom: BSG
Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine. Which I'm okay with, cause I'm not as brilliant as the people who created and reimagined the BSG I love.
Spoilers: Gaius's girlfriend is a cylon oh noes!!1!1!!
Notes: Say, it's only a paper moon
Sailing over a cardboard sea,
But it wouldn't be make believe
If you believed in me.
- Paper Moon
There is an official party for the ministry of defense -- pats on the back for a job well-done against a non-existent threat, free-flowing ambrosia and the finest musicians that Caprica City has to offer for entertainment -- and Gaius is absolutely drunk. Six, who had matched him glass for glass, is not, but she can almost feel the effervescence tickling the edges of her mind, and gives good show.
They crash into Gaius's front door, limbs entangled, kissing and biting and laughing and he is fumbling with her zipper as she feigns difficulty with the lock. Gaius, giving up on her dress, nips on the side of her throat, babbling about the night and the guests and his own importance, and she gasps in response, throwing the lock open and pushing the door. They rattle the table in the hall, his fish bobbing indignantly, and Gaius looks from the fish to her with such an endearing face of confusion before bursting into laughter that it's all she can do to join him and not cry. Love, she has learned, can be close to sadness. She never would have guessed.
"Shhhh," she says, and covers his mouth, which he first kisses, then bites. She is charmed, as she always is around him, and feels faint with the laughter that is bubbling out of her. It is strange, to feel such joy at another's mirth, but she does, so fiercely it overwhelms her. He claps a moist, hot hand over her mouth in return, and she can hardly refuse to kiss it.
"You've exquisite fingers," he mumbles against her palm. "Has anyone ever told you that?" He has, only when he's drunk and when she's just used said fingers to bring him pleasure.
"No," she coos from behind his own beloved fingers, because the difference is immense, and his lips are soft against the whorls of her fingerprints as his free hand skims up under her skirt.
He laughs as they stumble up the stairs and into his room, dark save for the moonlight reflecting off Lake Amalthea, falling on to his bed in a tangle. Gaius's mouth is on her collarbone. "I'm going to make a fool of myself," he's saying, and she almost asks for clarification, but his kisses have none of their usual grace and she hooks her leg over his back, pressing her heel into his spine gently and yearning for him to continue --
-- and he is asleep, forehead pressed to where her pulse throbs, one hand on her breast and the other loosely bunching the fabric at her waist. This is unprecedented. She has never spent the night, and there hasn't been a single encounter with Gaius that didn't involve sex.
Protocol dictates that she should use this time to find out what she can about human defenses -- if there are any details Gaius leaves out of their business meetings, minutiae he forgets when she crosses her legs to make her skirt rise up, until he loses his train of thought and takes her on his desk -- details that could lead to a swifter, more decisive victory.
Six believes that as it is God's will that the Cylons be victorious, surely it will not be challenged by staying still a few more minutes. She is faithful in her task, constantly cataloging anything useful, reporting back her finds to the One tasked to receive her information. She will rise before Gaius to go through his briefcase and files, which is not a betrayal because he is her enemy, even as she threads her fingers through his hair.
(Surely this indulgence is not a sin. God is love.)
Date posted: 10-21-09
Fandom: BSG
Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine. Which I'm okay with, cause I'm not as brilliant as the people who created and reimagined the BSG I love.
Spoilers: Gaius's girlfriend is a cylon oh noes!!1!1!!
Notes: Say, it's only a paper moon
Sailing over a cardboard sea,
But it wouldn't be make believe
If you believed in me.
- Paper Moon
There is an official party for the ministry of defense -- pats on the back for a job well-done against a non-existent threat, free-flowing ambrosia and the finest musicians that Caprica City has to offer for entertainment -- and Gaius is absolutely drunk. Six, who had matched him glass for glass, is not, but she can almost feel the effervescence tickling the edges of her mind, and gives good show.
They crash into Gaius's front door, limbs entangled, kissing and biting and laughing and he is fumbling with her zipper as she feigns difficulty with the lock. Gaius, giving up on her dress, nips on the side of her throat, babbling about the night and the guests and his own importance, and she gasps in response, throwing the lock open and pushing the door. They rattle the table in the hall, his fish bobbing indignantly, and Gaius looks from the fish to her with such an endearing face of confusion before bursting into laughter that it's all she can do to join him and not cry. Love, she has learned, can be close to sadness. She never would have guessed.
"Shhhh," she says, and covers his mouth, which he first kisses, then bites. She is charmed, as she always is around him, and feels faint with the laughter that is bubbling out of her. It is strange, to feel such joy at another's mirth, but she does, so fiercely it overwhelms her. He claps a moist, hot hand over her mouth in return, and she can hardly refuse to kiss it.
"You've exquisite fingers," he mumbles against her palm. "Has anyone ever told you that?" He has, only when he's drunk and when she's just used said fingers to bring him pleasure.
"No," she coos from behind his own beloved fingers, because the difference is immense, and his lips are soft against the whorls of her fingerprints as his free hand skims up under her skirt.
He laughs as they stumble up the stairs and into his room, dark save for the moonlight reflecting off Lake Amalthea, falling on to his bed in a tangle. Gaius's mouth is on her collarbone. "I'm going to make a fool of myself," he's saying, and she almost asks for clarification, but his kisses have none of their usual grace and she hooks her leg over his back, pressing her heel into his spine gently and yearning for him to continue --
-- and he is asleep, forehead pressed to where her pulse throbs, one hand on her breast and the other loosely bunching the fabric at her waist. This is unprecedented. She has never spent the night, and there hasn't been a single encounter with Gaius that didn't involve sex.
Protocol dictates that she should use this time to find out what she can about human defenses -- if there are any details Gaius leaves out of their business meetings, minutiae he forgets when she crosses her legs to make her skirt rise up, until he loses his train of thought and takes her on his desk -- details that could lead to a swifter, more decisive victory.
Six believes that as it is God's will that the Cylons be victorious, surely it will not be challenged by staying still a few more minutes. She is faithful in her task, constantly cataloging anything useful, reporting back her finds to the One tasked to receive her information. She will rise before Gaius to go through his briefcase and files, which is not a betrayal because he is her enemy, even as she threads her fingers through his hair.
(Surely this indulgence is not a sin. God is love.)