drabbles...
For dangermousie , (G)
He handed her another piece of chocolate. “A girl, huh?”
Sharon shot him a sidelong look and grinned as she popped the sweet into her mouth. “Yeah. You disappointed?”
Helo snorted. “Frak, no.” He leaned back against the fallen tree and stretched his right leg out; it had become a bit stiff from the rain and the cold and the lack of activity since they had made camp for the night. Pulling her in close, he rested his cheek on her head. A stray strand of her hair tickled at his lower lip. “Have you thought of any names?”
She rested a hand on his chest. “What d’you think of ‘Hera?’”
For fahrbotdrusilla , (PG)
The first time she saw him, he was surrounded by women, some attractive, some… less so. In time, she came to understand that this was not unusual for Gaius Baltar, but that evening, her first in Caprica City, it drew her attention. He drew her attention. Suave… Handsome… Malleable.
She blinked slowly, smiled. With a glance at her momentary companion, she said, “Excuse me,” and left him, his mouth still open in surprise. She never took her eyes from Dr. Baltar as she made her way across the room. Her smile widened as the women parted before her like a set of doors opening, leaving the way clear to her prey.
He frowned slightly, his simultaneous half smile utterly charming. “I’m sorry. Have we met before? I’m certain I’d remember you…”
She held out her hand and he took it in both of his. “I’m Natasi…”
For poisontaster , (PG-13)
Helo’s back was to the game as he tried to concentrate on the plan for tomorrow’s lesson in the dynamics of Raptor flight, but he couldn’t help but overhear the conversation at the Triad table.
“It’s to you, Doctor.” That was Racetrack, the only woman playing this evening.
There was a pause and then the sound of a glass banging onto the table. “Frak.” Another pause, punctuated by laughter. “Oh, very nice. Could you help me clean this up? The ambrosia will ruin my shirt.” Helo smiled. It seemed the good doctor’d had a little too much to drink. He turned his head slightly to watch the show.
Racetrack leaned over the table and dabbed at Dr. Baltar’s sleeve while the doctor looked down her tanks. She caught him at it and glared. “Like what you see?”
A bemused expression on his face, Baltar replied, “Actually, yes. Quite a bit.” Racetrack looked a little surprised. He glanced up at her and, rather than backing off at her baleful stare, asked, “You wouldn’t want to show me a bit more, would you? In private?”
She blinked twice and sat back in her chair, looking nonplussed. “Um…”
Helo laughed and returned to his lesson plan.
For weissman , (G)
Sharon didn’t want to open her eyes, afraid that if she did, she’d find that this was all a dream and it would vanish as if it had never been. His arms felt so good around her, so right. And it had been far too long since they’d been able to touch like this. The fabric of his dress grays was scratchy against her cheek.
“Happy?” Helo’s voice resonated through her and she looked up, met his eyes. It had been too long since she’d seen him smile like that, too. Had she ever seen him smile like that?
“Is that what this is? Happiness?” Her chest felt tight; she couldn’t breathe him in deeply enough. “I still can’t believe they let it happen.”
He laughed and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin. “You’re my wife now, Sharon, and no one is ever going to take that away from us.”
For lyssie , (PG)
Gray-white hair bobbed as she nodded. “How about that one? Wha-Whaddya think of him?”
Kara downed her shot and ignored the burn. “Who? The green guy?” She looked at Chiana in disbelief. “I think he’s green.”
The Nebari girl grinned, the expression a unique mixture of predatory and innocent. “Yeah, but look at his arms…”
“You’re frakkin’ hopeless.” Kara shook her head, her own hair tickling the back of her neck. “Are you done yet? This place blows. I’m ready for some fresh prospects.” This was the third bar in as many hours, each one a little more interesting than the last as they drank more freely and thought less cautiously. “Not enough men…”
Chiana arched one fine brow, black eyes glittering in the low light as she agreed, “There are never enough men.”
I'd kinda hoped for ten, but five is good. ;)
He handed her another piece of chocolate. “A girl, huh?”
Sharon shot him a sidelong look and grinned as she popped the sweet into her mouth. “Yeah. You disappointed?”
Helo snorted. “Frak, no.” He leaned back against the fallen tree and stretched his right leg out; it had become a bit stiff from the rain and the cold and the lack of activity since they had made camp for the night. Pulling her in close, he rested his cheek on her head. A stray strand of her hair tickled at his lower lip. “Have you thought of any names?”
She rested a hand on his chest. “What d’you think of ‘Hera?’”
For fahrbotdrusilla , (PG)
The first time she saw him, he was surrounded by women, some attractive, some… less so. In time, she came to understand that this was not unusual for Gaius Baltar, but that evening, her first in Caprica City, it drew her attention. He drew her attention. Suave… Handsome… Malleable.
She blinked slowly, smiled. With a glance at her momentary companion, she said, “Excuse me,” and left him, his mouth still open in surprise. She never took her eyes from Dr. Baltar as she made her way across the room. Her smile widened as the women parted before her like a set of doors opening, leaving the way clear to her prey.
He frowned slightly, his simultaneous half smile utterly charming. “I’m sorry. Have we met before? I’m certain I’d remember you…”
She held out her hand and he took it in both of his. “I’m Natasi…”
For poisontaster , (PG-13)
Helo’s back was to the game as he tried to concentrate on the plan for tomorrow’s lesson in the dynamics of Raptor flight, but he couldn’t help but overhear the conversation at the Triad table.
“It’s to you, Doctor.” That was Racetrack, the only woman playing this evening.
There was a pause and then the sound of a glass banging onto the table. “Frak.” Another pause, punctuated by laughter. “Oh, very nice. Could you help me clean this up? The ambrosia will ruin my shirt.” Helo smiled. It seemed the good doctor’d had a little too much to drink. He turned his head slightly to watch the show.
Racetrack leaned over the table and dabbed at Dr. Baltar’s sleeve while the doctor looked down her tanks. She caught him at it and glared. “Like what you see?”
A bemused expression on his face, Baltar replied, “Actually, yes. Quite a bit.” Racetrack looked a little surprised. He glanced up at her and, rather than backing off at her baleful stare, asked, “You wouldn’t want to show me a bit more, would you? In private?”
She blinked twice and sat back in her chair, looking nonplussed. “Um…”
Helo laughed and returned to his lesson plan.
For weissman , (G)
Sharon didn’t want to open her eyes, afraid that if she did, she’d find that this was all a dream and it would vanish as if it had never been. His arms felt so good around her, so right. And it had been far too long since they’d been able to touch like this. The fabric of his dress grays was scratchy against her cheek.
“Happy?” Helo’s voice resonated through her and she looked up, met his eyes. It had been too long since she’d seen him smile like that, too. Had she ever seen him smile like that?
“Is that what this is? Happiness?” Her chest felt tight; she couldn’t breathe him in deeply enough. “I still can’t believe they let it happen.”
He laughed and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin. “You’re my wife now, Sharon, and no one is ever going to take that away from us.”
For lyssie , (PG)
Gray-white hair bobbed as she nodded. “How about that one? Wha-Whaddya think of him?”
Kara downed her shot and ignored the burn. “Who? The green guy?” She looked at Chiana in disbelief. “I think he’s green.”
The Nebari girl grinned, the expression a unique mixture of predatory and innocent. “Yeah, but look at his arms…”
“You’re frakkin’ hopeless.” Kara shook her head, her own hair tickling the back of her neck. “Are you done yet? This place blows. I’m ready for some fresh prospects.” This was the third bar in as many hours, each one a little more interesting than the last as they drank more freely and thought less cautiously. “Not enough men…”
Chiana arched one fine brow, black eyes glittering in the low light as she agreed, “There are never enough men.”
I'd kinda hoped for ten, but five is good. ;)