fic: Two Very Pretty People
Two Very Pretty People
Author: SabaceanBabe
Rating: PG
Word count: 665
Characters: Helo/Boomer, Starbuck/Anders, OC
Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica, this incarnation, belongs to Ron Moore, but he, kind man, said that it was okay if we play in his sandbox, so…
Spoilers: up to ep 2.05
Author’s notes: written for the unofficial Hidden Elysium ficathon challenge - write a fic that explains that sweet little background scene of Helo and Boomer in each other’s arms at the end of the Farm, so brief if you blinked, you missed it. No beta; all mistakes my own.
Malachi knew he stared, but he didn’t care. Nor did he think the pair he stared at would notice. They were two very pretty people and they had eyes only for each other. Anders and his new girlfriend had walked away, were talking over by the old storage barrels - empty now - leaving an unobstructed view of the pretty couple by the truck.
While he watched, the tall man - what was his name? Agathon? - took a step toward the dark-haired girl and then she was in his arms. For a second, there, Mal thought they were holding each other so tight, bones might break, but then they seemed to relax a little, to loosen up and put some space in between, but even then their reluctance to stop touching was visible even from fifteen meters away.
Just a few minutes ago, they’d seemed just as reluctant to touch as they did now to separate. That had been when Anders and Thrace had been there and Agathon had been checking out the blonde’s stomach. Checking stitches, or something. Mal thought someone’d said that Thrace and Sue-Shaun had been caught up in the Cylons’ net and taken to one of the baby farms they’d heard rumors of. (Who could’ve known one of them had been so close to their base?) They’d mounted a rescue, but only Thrace had been brought back.
Mal said a brief prayer to the Gods to keep Sue-Shaun’s soul safe and then went back to watching and speculating about the new people in their little resistance group.
Anders had fallen hard for Thrace, not that Mal blamed him, even if he did like his women a little less prickly, a little more soft. More like the other new girl, whose name he didn’t know. He smiled to himself. ‘Course, I also like ‘em with a little more meat on their bones. She’d shown up in camp just that morning and Agathon was never more than a meter or two from her side. Never touching, but never letting anyone else get too close to her, either.
There’d been one point when Mal had thought that Anders and Agathon might come to blows over her, but she’d finally said something that made them both cool off. Ever since, Anders had seemed to be a bit afraid of her. Mal liked Anders, respected him, but he still got a kick out of seeing a big guy like Sam Anders, Pyramid hero, scared of a little girl.
She leaned back against the truck now, Agathon leaning in toward her, his weight braced by the hand and arm that rested on the side of the vehicle, next to her shoulder. Mal wasn’t close enough to hear what they said, but the intense looks on their faces said that it was important, whatever it was.
There was nothing about that girl’s outward appearance, battered and bruised and fragile as it was, that would cause any man to fear her. But whatever words Agathon and Anders had exchanged earlier about her, and whatever she’d said to Anders to keep them from fighting, had Anders walking on eggshells around her. Hadn’t Rico said something about her walking into the Cylon fuel depot they’d been watching for weeks - just watching because it was too well defended - and then waltzing back out with that heavy raider that was parked just outside camp? If Rico wasn’t just blowing hot air up his shorts, how the frak had she done that?
As if he’d heard his name being called, Rico appeared in the doorway of what had once been the high school gymnasium. “Malachi! Get your sorry ass over here!” With one last glance at the couple leaning on the battered truck, Mal shouldered his rifle and headed in to see what Rico wanted.
Appearances could be deceiving, his mother - Gods rest her soul - had always said. Maybe there was more to these new people than met the eye. But what met the eye sure was pretty…
Author: SabaceanBabe
Rating: PG
Word count: 665
Characters: Helo/Boomer, Starbuck/Anders, OC
Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica, this incarnation, belongs to Ron Moore, but he, kind man, said that it was okay if we play in his sandbox, so…
Spoilers: up to ep 2.05
Author’s notes: written for the unofficial Hidden Elysium ficathon challenge - write a fic that explains that sweet little background scene of Helo and Boomer in each other’s arms at the end of the Farm, so brief if you blinked, you missed it. No beta; all mistakes my own.
Malachi knew he stared, but he didn’t care. Nor did he think the pair he stared at would notice. They were two very pretty people and they had eyes only for each other. Anders and his new girlfriend had walked away, were talking over by the old storage barrels - empty now - leaving an unobstructed view of the pretty couple by the truck.
While he watched, the tall man - what was his name? Agathon? - took a step toward the dark-haired girl and then she was in his arms. For a second, there, Mal thought they were holding each other so tight, bones might break, but then they seemed to relax a little, to loosen up and put some space in between, but even then their reluctance to stop touching was visible even from fifteen meters away.
Just a few minutes ago, they’d seemed just as reluctant to touch as they did now to separate. That had been when Anders and Thrace had been there and Agathon had been checking out the blonde’s stomach. Checking stitches, or something. Mal thought someone’d said that Thrace and Sue-Shaun had been caught up in the Cylons’ net and taken to one of the baby farms they’d heard rumors of. (Who could’ve known one of them had been so close to their base?) They’d mounted a rescue, but only Thrace had been brought back.
Mal said a brief prayer to the Gods to keep Sue-Shaun’s soul safe and then went back to watching and speculating about the new people in their little resistance group.
Anders had fallen hard for Thrace, not that Mal blamed him, even if he did like his women a little less prickly, a little more soft. More like the other new girl, whose name he didn’t know. He smiled to himself. ‘Course, I also like ‘em with a little more meat on their bones. She’d shown up in camp just that morning and Agathon was never more than a meter or two from her side. Never touching, but never letting anyone else get too close to her, either.
There’d been one point when Mal had thought that Anders and Agathon might come to blows over her, but she’d finally said something that made them both cool off. Ever since, Anders had seemed to be a bit afraid of her. Mal liked Anders, respected him, but he still got a kick out of seeing a big guy like Sam Anders, Pyramid hero, scared of a little girl.
She leaned back against the truck now, Agathon leaning in toward her, his weight braced by the hand and arm that rested on the side of the vehicle, next to her shoulder. Mal wasn’t close enough to hear what they said, but the intense looks on their faces said that it was important, whatever it was.
There was nothing about that girl’s outward appearance, battered and bruised and fragile as it was, that would cause any man to fear her. But whatever words Agathon and Anders had exchanged earlier about her, and whatever she’d said to Anders to keep them from fighting, had Anders walking on eggshells around her. Hadn’t Rico said something about her walking into the Cylon fuel depot they’d been watching for weeks - just watching because it was too well defended - and then waltzing back out with that heavy raider that was parked just outside camp? If Rico wasn’t just blowing hot air up his shorts, how the frak had she done that?
As if he’d heard his name being called, Rico appeared in the doorway of what had once been the high school gymnasium. “Malachi! Get your sorry ass over here!” With one last glance at the couple leaning on the battered truck, Mal shouldered his rifle and headed in to see what Rico wanted.
Appearances could be deceiving, his mother - Gods rest her soul - had always said. Maybe there was more to these new people than met the eye. But what met the eye sure was pretty…