Some Kind of Shoulder Angel (Part 1)
Title: Some Kind of Shoulder Angel (Part 1)
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Kara/Laura, Kara/Cain
Rating: M
Summary: Kara has head!Cain
Notes: I wrote this for the Lost Year challenge. But it was getting too long and I decided that it wouldn't be fair to enter myself. So I'm posting it now.
Kara enjoyed the chaos of stall owners unprepared for a low sweeping Raptor and the resulting wake turbulence. For a moment, tarps billowed wildly, displays toppled and improvised signs went flying. Anything that wasn’t nailed down or held onto was lost to the pilot’s recklessness.
The bird made an arrogant landing in the patch of waste beyond the market strip and Kara smirked. The latest batch of Battlestar crew scheduled for R&R were already stumbling out onto the dirt as Kara approached the scene. She stuck her thumbs into her pockets and leaned close to the pilot’s shoulder.
“Miss you too,” she said.
Racetrack jerked off the edge of the Raptor by her hip and turned to face her. They were fragmented now. There were those who stayed and those who jumped ship. Slowly that defining line had faded and now there was just up there and down here and no life was less mundane than the other.
“That was you?” The girl hopped up on her toes and squinted up at the taller woman.
Kara knew she had changed. She looked softer, paler, and nothing like the hotheaded Viper jock who led a small army to take on a planet teeming with Cylons to rescue those left behind. She scoffed and picked at locks of her hair, longer for the simple fact she had forgotten she ever had an image to maintain.
Maggie smirked, all the affirmation Kara needed to know she hadn’t been forgotten up there on the Bucket. She couldn’t remember getting on well with Racetrack before landing on New Caprica. Until then, their last significant interaction ended with Kara slamming the Lieutenant’s head against a table in the mess, and their relationship was tense to say the least.
As well as weary crew members, crates were carried off the Raptor and exchanged for ones waiting in a stack. Kara watched proceedings with a quirked eyebrow. “You should think about franchising. Racetrack’s Delivery Service.”
“Get myself a cute little uniform,” Maggie agreed as she looked over her shoulder.
Kara snorted, imagining the girl dressed in something hopelessly perky, military tanks exchanged for a tight fitting collar tee and a tiny pair of sports shorts, all in pink. The image was more ridiculous for Kara’s inability to picture the girl with the cheery facial expression to go with it, and her imaginary Maggie scowled unappreciatively.
“Speaking of delivery,” Maggie went on, turning to face her again just as Kara trained her features, “Got a package from the Old Man for the Pres…I mean Roslin.” While Kara frowned unenthusiastically, Maggie went to look amongst the crates that had been unloaded from her Raptor.
Kara might have thought up some convincing excuse to avoid the trek down to the school tent, but somehow ended up staring mutely. As she removed crates from one pile to another, Maggie bent lower and lower to reach them. Kara only realized where her eyes had been when Maggie was presenting her with a tin box.
Kara took it automatically, preoccupied convincing herself she had merely experienced a mental blackout. Then she noticed Maggie’s hands were still lifted in the gesture of handing her the box. A quick examination of her face revealed the vacant expression Kara herself had possessed only moments ago. Kara narrowed her eyes and turned to look behind her.
A small crowd had come to greet the crew freshly delivered from Galactica and Pegasus. Kara didn’t really recognize anyone. They had all started to look the same to her. One person was as grimy and dusty as the next. She faced Maggie again and smiled teasingly. “New Caprica to Racetrack.”
“Huh?” Maggie blinked and then jerked her hands away. “Sorry. Exhausted.” Far from pale, the girl was bright red, prompting Kara to look again over her shoulder.
She peered hard, trying to recognize anybody. There were a few familiar knuckle draggers but no one she could name.
“Thanks for this, by the way,” Maggie said, unfolding her arms and propping her hands on her hips.
“Don’t mention it.” Kara shrugged, cradling the box in her arms. Maggie swept the back of her hand across her brow before returning it to her hip and Kara thought she was trying hard not to look past her.
“Anyway, I gotta get back. See ya round, maybe.”
Kara watched her head back over to her bird and monitor the loading of crates. As she turned to leave she glanced at the crowd again, thought she saw Jammer, and scrunched her nose in disapproval. Maybe the girl had also suffered a small mental blackout. Those things were going around.
The New Caprica sky was clear and bright, making light flare on the sandy ground. Kara squinted against it and shuffled down the road to the school. She regretted putting her shades on the table a few months back, when she was sure her cards were unbeatable. She hoped Helo was enjoying them in frakking space.
Kara needed only to appear at the back of the makeshift classroom. She decided Laura was about to look up anyway, but she still felt her breath catch at the way her head lifted and her eyes fixed instantly on her. Framed behind her glasses they were somehow more vivid, as though only inches away.
When the woman smiled, Kara felt her own lips curl of their own accord. Laura straightened gracefully from hovering over the desk of a young girl, and told everyone to keep working. Throwing a nod to Maya, the teacher made her way through the desks.
“Kara, how are you?” She was still smiling broadly and Kara wondered how dull Laura’s life was that her visit could be the highlight of her day.
“Good. Good.” Then she was just nodding and trying to remember if she knew any other words.
“You have a box,” Laura prompted kindly.
“It’s for you,” Kara said, “Oh, not from me,” she added quickly, and wondered why she felt it needed clarification. She rolled her eyes and muttered soundlessly to herself in the moment Laura looked away to take the box and find somewhere to put it.
“From Bill,” Laura said, knowingly, the hint of disdain marking her voice.
“He still hasn’t been to see you?” Kara asked, arching an eyebrow. Laura gave a cough of laughter that petered into a sigh. She set the box aside on top of a bookshelf and turned to face Kara with weariness lining her brow.
Kara wished she knew what to say. She would offer to kick his ass if there weren’t children present. She bit her lips and looked at the floor, knowing that was probably worse than saying nothing at all. Laura sensed her unease and chuckled more cheerily.
Kara gestured hopefully to the box. “Not gonna open it?”
“Not here,” Laura said, smirking in a way that made Kara shiver inexplicably.
She snorted in a gesture meant to assert her control and Laura stepped away from the shelf, coming slowly closer. “I should get back,” and she nudged her head briefly to one side. Kara turned to look and realized she’d forgotten where she was.
“Right.” She smiled and backed away. Laura matched her step and Kara paused.
“Do you mind waiting? Class will finish in a few minutes. Maya has to pick up Isis from the Tighs and Tory is out for the afternoon. You can help me carry that box to my tent.”
Kara couldn’t respond. Her lips were frozen in the same awkward smile and there was a dull ringing in her ears.
“Sure.” The word came out of her mouth though she couldn’t say how, since her lips never moved and her jaw was stuck and she couldn’t remember taking a breath in the first place. Once outside she sat down on a crate next to some sandbags and took stock of her recent behavior.
She couldn’t detect a headache or any other irritation. She was a little bit tired but no more than usual. It wasn’t until she became aware of her heart rate that her concern elevated. It was alarmingly fast, and now that she was conscious of it, could feel it drumming in her chest. She pressed her palm to her brow but found her temperature normal.
Kara grimaced and stared at the dirt. Perhaps she had been anxious interrupting Laura’s class. She hadn’t announced her arrival after all, and couldn’t know how the woman would receive her sudden appearance. It had been a long time since she’d spoken to her. Laura was suddenly free of responsibility and reprieved of her death sentence and Kara felt the least she could do was stay out of her way and let her enjoy her new life.
Besides, she had Tory and Maya. Laura didn’t want a pathetic ex-Viper jock with severe emotional issues hanging around. No one wanted that. Even Sam was probably reevaluating his decision to marry her. He spent most of the day playing Pyramid with his old C-Buc teammates, the ones that survived the rescue from Caprica anyway.
When they were together Kara thought he was looking at her from miles away, that a vast plain of emptiness spanned between them, no matter how close he held her. When he spoke every word sounded diminished by distance, as though she were hearing them filtered through a dream.
Sometimes he smiled at her, kissed her tenderly, gently stroked her hair and when he said he loved her all she heard was static. It broke her heart.
There was a sudden outpour of children from the tent and that broken organ bounced to life. She waited for the frequency of children to wane and then crept back inside the tent. Waiting in the shadows, Kara watched Laura collecting books and folders into a bag. Turned away from her, the woman had not heard her come in.
The small plastic windows allowed pale streams of light across the front of the room, washing colour and illuminating specs of tumbling dust. Even the dim light could catch the waves of Laura’s hair and make it shine. In the act of organizing her desk, her hand would fall into the light from the window and her skin would glow like starlight.
A peculiar weight pulled Kara’s head to one side, and the play of light and shadow and glittering airborne dust glazed her eyes. The muffled activity outside the tent lulled her body like music could charm a snake. It was only vaguely that she knew Laura was smiling at her, and her facial muscles moved to reflect it.
“Thanks for waiting.”
The spell broke and Kara felt her whole body sizzle as she became aware of its thousands of concurring functions. It made her cough and she masked it as a laugh.
“No problem,” she said.
Laura walked up to her and Kara just waited, even as the woman eyed her expectantly. She turned her head slightly, and Kara wondered what she was supposed to do.
“Do you have the box?”
Kara could hear her own brain cry. “Right. Right…” She went over to the shelf to collect the box and then followed Laura out of the school trying to fathom her own idiocy.
“I think he’s avoiding me.”
“Huh?” Kara had been squinting against the light that reflected off the box in her arms.
“I think I make him nervous.”
Kara snorted. “You make everyone nervous.”
She grimaced inwardly and tensed her shoulders. She couldn’t even remember having the thought before her mouth was making such proclamations. Laura smiled in surprise.
“If that were true, Gaius Baltar wouldn’t have dared run for President.”
“Oh, President Roslin never made anyone nervous,” Kara said, thinking on her feet. Without looking she knew one of Laura’s slender eyebrows had arched gracefully.
“She didn’t?”
Kara tried to recover. “The Old Man has only ever known you as Madame President. You’re a different woman now. You’re…” She thought it would be harder to demonstrate the ways Laura had changed, but was startled by the rate at which thoughts came to her, almost as if they were already formed and pondered many times before.
“If you say ‘a new woman’…” Laura said wearily.
“That’s not it. Adama only knows you in the context of Colonial One and Galactica and the tiny scrap of existence that was,” Kara explained hesitantly. Laura listened quietly, and Kara felt her gaze prick the side of her head. She shrugged slowly and measured her words carefully. “Now you’re not part of that world. You’re down here in the sun, the ground under your feet, the sky stretched out above you.”
If she had the nerve to face her she would have seen the beginning of a smile curl on Laura’s lips.
Kara went on, “The Laura Roslin he knew was a trapped woman. Now you’re free he sees you differently. He sees you building a life, living a life you chose, watching you see the potential in this silly little planet and nurture it, impress your hopes and dreams into it. He’s not avoiding you. He’s in awe of you.”
The silence that followed was almost so thick Kara could feel it curdling behind her teeth. It may not have lasted as long as Kara felt it did, but eventually she heard Laura hum thoughtfully. Kara wasn’t certain what the tone meant, only that it sounded happy and satisfied. Even so, Kara didn’t look at her until they reached Laura’s tent and she was setting the box down on her table.
Laura placed her things on her cot, wrapping her arms about her waist as she turned to look up at Kara.
“Thank you, Kara.”
“Oh,” Kara scoffed, throwing her hands towards the box. “Don’t mention it.”
Laura’s smile broadened as she chuckled through her nose. Dropping her head low, her hair tumbled forward as she stepped closer.
When she looked up again, Kara tightened her lips and tensed her jaw. Laura’s eyes were like jewels, the kind that people came from across the Colonies to see encased in glass in museums, the kind told of in legends, possessing unimaginable mystical powers thieves planned for years and risked their lives to steal.
“I was thanking you for the company, actually,” she said.
Kara blinked and her mouth went dry. “Oh…” It came out as a croaking, gurgling noise. She cleared her throat quickly and looked away, nodding. “Well, you’re welcome,” she said, smiling back at her and shrugging awkwardly.
Laura just smiled at her, and Kara found her gaze guided from her eyes to her lips, from the exposed skin of her neck to the swell of pale flesh that began before the neckline of her dress. There her breath caught and her skin chilled and she snapped her eyes back.
“Uhhh…I gotta…I should head…back.” She was already shuffling backwards, knocking a chair with her hip and steadying it quickly as she proceeded for the tent flap.
“Bye,” Laura called as Kara stumbled outside. She slouched miserably. After spending a moment to bask in her own inadequacy, she turned about and trudged back home. She planned to collapse tragically onto her cot but when she stepped inside the tent she shared with Sam, there was someone already lying there.
Kara’s blood snap froze. Every nerve in her body charged in an instant, muscles tightening, bracing against the threat that lounged casually where she slept. Familiar sharp eyes fixed on her and a sly smile twisted the woman’s lips. “That was pathetic.”
Kara breathed in irregular shallow gasps and Helena Cain languidly tossed her legs over the edge of the cot to sit up. Arms straight and shoulders locked, Cain dipped her head. Her tone was heavy with disdain as she said, “It bemuses me how spectacularly you can fail to see what’s right in front of you.”
Kara only glared with fear and anger. Cain stood slowly, every bone and muscle moving with precision, and cocked her head with a taunting smirk. She still wore her dark military suit, her dark hair straight and dull, making her as stiff and severe as Kara remembered her.
“Y…” Kara had to bite down hard to keep from screaming, but her emotions were flaming. “You’re a frakking Cylon!”
She launched herself forward, striking hard with a fist at the woman’s face. Cain leaned to one side. Kara swiped again and she leaned the other way. Kara’s next blow connected with a thwack, but her fist was caught in Cain’s palm and fingers clawed into the back of her hand.
The woman who looked and spoke like Cain smirked provocatively, and Kara roared. She knocked Cain’s arm upward with her free arm, breaking her hold and in the motion of withdrawing her fist, swung it back under Cain’s jaw.
The woman spun, tugging Kara’s arm forward so the inertia made her fall onto her cot. She landed on outstretched hands and snapped her gaze back over her shoulder. Cain was backing away, chuckling darkly. Kara pushed herself back to her feet and renewed her attack.
Their engagement played out with mounting intensity but Cain avoided every assault. She finally managed to grab Kara’s arms and turn her about, locking an arm around her neck and holding her tightly while she bucked and struggled.
Cain laughed breathlessly. “I do regret we never got to do this, Thrace. Sparring with you would have been better than frakking that traitorous toaster ever was.”
Kara didn’t know what she was talking about but understood one thing well enough. “You’re a frakking toaster!”
She ducked out of Cain’s hold and kicked. Cain grabbed her foot and pulled, tugging Kara off her balance and letting her crash to the floor. A halo of dust puffed out around her and she coughed, winded. Cain sneered over her, still holding her foot. She jerked her leg back, and Kara yelped at the pain of her thigh muscles nearly tearing.
She grunted and twisted her body, chopping Cain’s feet with her other leg. But she had jumped and Kara kicked the table behind her instead. The impact shattered her tibia and she wailed with pain. Wincing and trembling she got awkwardly onto her hands and knees and tossed a savage look up at Cain who watched patiently.
“Are you done?” the dead woman asked.
Suddenly Kara sprang to her feet, throwing a cloud of dirt into Cain’s face. The woman had anticipated the attack and merely turned, her sleek hair fanning as she swirling out of its way. Kara screamed in frustration and their fight continued.
“Kara!”
She looked up. Sam stood inside the tent flap, a look of horror in his eyes. Kara’s heart sank. Cain was between her and her husband.
“Sam, get out!”
But he took a step closer, sweeping his eyes across the devastation caused by their struggle.
“Sam! Run!”
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Kara/Laura, Kara/Cain
Rating: M
Summary: Kara has head!Cain
Notes: I wrote this for the Lost Year challenge. But it was getting too long and I decided that it wouldn't be fair to enter myself. So I'm posting it now.
Kara enjoyed the chaos of stall owners unprepared for a low sweeping Raptor and the resulting wake turbulence. For a moment, tarps billowed wildly, displays toppled and improvised signs went flying. Anything that wasn’t nailed down or held onto was lost to the pilot’s recklessness.
The bird made an arrogant landing in the patch of waste beyond the market strip and Kara smirked. The latest batch of Battlestar crew scheduled for R&R were already stumbling out onto the dirt as Kara approached the scene. She stuck her thumbs into her pockets and leaned close to the pilot’s shoulder.
“Miss you too,” she said.
Racetrack jerked off the edge of the Raptor by her hip and turned to face her. They were fragmented now. There were those who stayed and those who jumped ship. Slowly that defining line had faded and now there was just up there and down here and no life was less mundane than the other.
“That was you?” The girl hopped up on her toes and squinted up at the taller woman.
Kara knew she had changed. She looked softer, paler, and nothing like the hotheaded Viper jock who led a small army to take on a planet teeming with Cylons to rescue those left behind. She scoffed and picked at locks of her hair, longer for the simple fact she had forgotten she ever had an image to maintain.
Maggie smirked, all the affirmation Kara needed to know she hadn’t been forgotten up there on the Bucket. She couldn’t remember getting on well with Racetrack before landing on New Caprica. Until then, their last significant interaction ended with Kara slamming the Lieutenant’s head against a table in the mess, and their relationship was tense to say the least.
As well as weary crew members, crates were carried off the Raptor and exchanged for ones waiting in a stack. Kara watched proceedings with a quirked eyebrow. “You should think about franchising. Racetrack’s Delivery Service.”
“Get myself a cute little uniform,” Maggie agreed as she looked over her shoulder.
Kara snorted, imagining the girl dressed in something hopelessly perky, military tanks exchanged for a tight fitting collar tee and a tiny pair of sports shorts, all in pink. The image was more ridiculous for Kara’s inability to picture the girl with the cheery facial expression to go with it, and her imaginary Maggie scowled unappreciatively.
“Speaking of delivery,” Maggie went on, turning to face her again just as Kara trained her features, “Got a package from the Old Man for the Pres…I mean Roslin.” While Kara frowned unenthusiastically, Maggie went to look amongst the crates that had been unloaded from her Raptor.
Kara might have thought up some convincing excuse to avoid the trek down to the school tent, but somehow ended up staring mutely. As she removed crates from one pile to another, Maggie bent lower and lower to reach them. Kara only realized where her eyes had been when Maggie was presenting her with a tin box.
Kara took it automatically, preoccupied convincing herself she had merely experienced a mental blackout. Then she noticed Maggie’s hands were still lifted in the gesture of handing her the box. A quick examination of her face revealed the vacant expression Kara herself had possessed only moments ago. Kara narrowed her eyes and turned to look behind her.
A small crowd had come to greet the crew freshly delivered from Galactica and Pegasus. Kara didn’t really recognize anyone. They had all started to look the same to her. One person was as grimy and dusty as the next. She faced Maggie again and smiled teasingly. “New Caprica to Racetrack.”
“Huh?” Maggie blinked and then jerked her hands away. “Sorry. Exhausted.” Far from pale, the girl was bright red, prompting Kara to look again over her shoulder.
She peered hard, trying to recognize anybody. There were a few familiar knuckle draggers but no one she could name.
“Thanks for this, by the way,” Maggie said, unfolding her arms and propping her hands on her hips.
“Don’t mention it.” Kara shrugged, cradling the box in her arms. Maggie swept the back of her hand across her brow before returning it to her hip and Kara thought she was trying hard not to look past her.
“Anyway, I gotta get back. See ya round, maybe.”
Kara watched her head back over to her bird and monitor the loading of crates. As she turned to leave she glanced at the crowd again, thought she saw Jammer, and scrunched her nose in disapproval. Maybe the girl had also suffered a small mental blackout. Those things were going around.
The New Caprica sky was clear and bright, making light flare on the sandy ground. Kara squinted against it and shuffled down the road to the school. She regretted putting her shades on the table a few months back, when she was sure her cards were unbeatable. She hoped Helo was enjoying them in frakking space.
Kara needed only to appear at the back of the makeshift classroom. She decided Laura was about to look up anyway, but she still felt her breath catch at the way her head lifted and her eyes fixed instantly on her. Framed behind her glasses they were somehow more vivid, as though only inches away.
When the woman smiled, Kara felt her own lips curl of their own accord. Laura straightened gracefully from hovering over the desk of a young girl, and told everyone to keep working. Throwing a nod to Maya, the teacher made her way through the desks.
“Kara, how are you?” She was still smiling broadly and Kara wondered how dull Laura’s life was that her visit could be the highlight of her day.
“Good. Good.” Then she was just nodding and trying to remember if she knew any other words.
“You have a box,” Laura prompted kindly.
“It’s for you,” Kara said, “Oh, not from me,” she added quickly, and wondered why she felt it needed clarification. She rolled her eyes and muttered soundlessly to herself in the moment Laura looked away to take the box and find somewhere to put it.
“From Bill,” Laura said, knowingly, the hint of disdain marking her voice.
“He still hasn’t been to see you?” Kara asked, arching an eyebrow. Laura gave a cough of laughter that petered into a sigh. She set the box aside on top of a bookshelf and turned to face Kara with weariness lining her brow.
Kara wished she knew what to say. She would offer to kick his ass if there weren’t children present. She bit her lips and looked at the floor, knowing that was probably worse than saying nothing at all. Laura sensed her unease and chuckled more cheerily.
Kara gestured hopefully to the box. “Not gonna open it?”
“Not here,” Laura said, smirking in a way that made Kara shiver inexplicably.
She snorted in a gesture meant to assert her control and Laura stepped away from the shelf, coming slowly closer. “I should get back,” and she nudged her head briefly to one side. Kara turned to look and realized she’d forgotten where she was.
“Right.” She smiled and backed away. Laura matched her step and Kara paused.
“Do you mind waiting? Class will finish in a few minutes. Maya has to pick up Isis from the Tighs and Tory is out for the afternoon. You can help me carry that box to my tent.”
Kara couldn’t respond. Her lips were frozen in the same awkward smile and there was a dull ringing in her ears.
“Sure.” The word came out of her mouth though she couldn’t say how, since her lips never moved and her jaw was stuck and she couldn’t remember taking a breath in the first place. Once outside she sat down on a crate next to some sandbags and took stock of her recent behavior.
She couldn’t detect a headache or any other irritation. She was a little bit tired but no more than usual. It wasn’t until she became aware of her heart rate that her concern elevated. It was alarmingly fast, and now that she was conscious of it, could feel it drumming in her chest. She pressed her palm to her brow but found her temperature normal.
Kara grimaced and stared at the dirt. Perhaps she had been anxious interrupting Laura’s class. She hadn’t announced her arrival after all, and couldn’t know how the woman would receive her sudden appearance. It had been a long time since she’d spoken to her. Laura was suddenly free of responsibility and reprieved of her death sentence and Kara felt the least she could do was stay out of her way and let her enjoy her new life.
Besides, she had Tory and Maya. Laura didn’t want a pathetic ex-Viper jock with severe emotional issues hanging around. No one wanted that. Even Sam was probably reevaluating his decision to marry her. He spent most of the day playing Pyramid with his old C-Buc teammates, the ones that survived the rescue from Caprica anyway.
When they were together Kara thought he was looking at her from miles away, that a vast plain of emptiness spanned between them, no matter how close he held her. When he spoke every word sounded diminished by distance, as though she were hearing them filtered through a dream.
Sometimes he smiled at her, kissed her tenderly, gently stroked her hair and when he said he loved her all she heard was static. It broke her heart.
There was a sudden outpour of children from the tent and that broken organ bounced to life. She waited for the frequency of children to wane and then crept back inside the tent. Waiting in the shadows, Kara watched Laura collecting books and folders into a bag. Turned away from her, the woman had not heard her come in.
The small plastic windows allowed pale streams of light across the front of the room, washing colour and illuminating specs of tumbling dust. Even the dim light could catch the waves of Laura’s hair and make it shine. In the act of organizing her desk, her hand would fall into the light from the window and her skin would glow like starlight.
A peculiar weight pulled Kara’s head to one side, and the play of light and shadow and glittering airborne dust glazed her eyes. The muffled activity outside the tent lulled her body like music could charm a snake. It was only vaguely that she knew Laura was smiling at her, and her facial muscles moved to reflect it.
“Thanks for waiting.”
The spell broke and Kara felt her whole body sizzle as she became aware of its thousands of concurring functions. It made her cough and she masked it as a laugh.
“No problem,” she said.
Laura walked up to her and Kara just waited, even as the woman eyed her expectantly. She turned her head slightly, and Kara wondered what she was supposed to do.
“Do you have the box?”
Kara could hear her own brain cry. “Right. Right…” She went over to the shelf to collect the box and then followed Laura out of the school trying to fathom her own idiocy.
“I think he’s avoiding me.”
“Huh?” Kara had been squinting against the light that reflected off the box in her arms.
“I think I make him nervous.”
Kara snorted. “You make everyone nervous.”
She grimaced inwardly and tensed her shoulders. She couldn’t even remember having the thought before her mouth was making such proclamations. Laura smiled in surprise.
“If that were true, Gaius Baltar wouldn’t have dared run for President.”
“Oh, President Roslin never made anyone nervous,” Kara said, thinking on her feet. Without looking she knew one of Laura’s slender eyebrows had arched gracefully.
“She didn’t?”
Kara tried to recover. “The Old Man has only ever known you as Madame President. You’re a different woman now. You’re…” She thought it would be harder to demonstrate the ways Laura had changed, but was startled by the rate at which thoughts came to her, almost as if they were already formed and pondered many times before.
“If you say ‘a new woman’…” Laura said wearily.
“That’s not it. Adama only knows you in the context of Colonial One and Galactica and the tiny scrap of existence that was,” Kara explained hesitantly. Laura listened quietly, and Kara felt her gaze prick the side of her head. She shrugged slowly and measured her words carefully. “Now you’re not part of that world. You’re down here in the sun, the ground under your feet, the sky stretched out above you.”
If she had the nerve to face her she would have seen the beginning of a smile curl on Laura’s lips.
Kara went on, “The Laura Roslin he knew was a trapped woman. Now you’re free he sees you differently. He sees you building a life, living a life you chose, watching you see the potential in this silly little planet and nurture it, impress your hopes and dreams into it. He’s not avoiding you. He’s in awe of you.”
The silence that followed was almost so thick Kara could feel it curdling behind her teeth. It may not have lasted as long as Kara felt it did, but eventually she heard Laura hum thoughtfully. Kara wasn’t certain what the tone meant, only that it sounded happy and satisfied. Even so, Kara didn’t look at her until they reached Laura’s tent and she was setting the box down on her table.
Laura placed her things on her cot, wrapping her arms about her waist as she turned to look up at Kara.
“Thank you, Kara.”
“Oh,” Kara scoffed, throwing her hands towards the box. “Don’t mention it.”
Laura’s smile broadened as she chuckled through her nose. Dropping her head low, her hair tumbled forward as she stepped closer.
When she looked up again, Kara tightened her lips and tensed her jaw. Laura’s eyes were like jewels, the kind that people came from across the Colonies to see encased in glass in museums, the kind told of in legends, possessing unimaginable mystical powers thieves planned for years and risked their lives to steal.
“I was thanking you for the company, actually,” she said.
Kara blinked and her mouth went dry. “Oh…” It came out as a croaking, gurgling noise. She cleared her throat quickly and looked away, nodding. “Well, you’re welcome,” she said, smiling back at her and shrugging awkwardly.
Laura just smiled at her, and Kara found her gaze guided from her eyes to her lips, from the exposed skin of her neck to the swell of pale flesh that began before the neckline of her dress. There her breath caught and her skin chilled and she snapped her eyes back.
“Uhhh…I gotta…I should head…back.” She was already shuffling backwards, knocking a chair with her hip and steadying it quickly as she proceeded for the tent flap.
“Bye,” Laura called as Kara stumbled outside. She slouched miserably. After spending a moment to bask in her own inadequacy, she turned about and trudged back home. She planned to collapse tragically onto her cot but when she stepped inside the tent she shared with Sam, there was someone already lying there.
Kara’s blood snap froze. Every nerve in her body charged in an instant, muscles tightening, bracing against the threat that lounged casually where she slept. Familiar sharp eyes fixed on her and a sly smile twisted the woman’s lips. “That was pathetic.”
Kara breathed in irregular shallow gasps and Helena Cain languidly tossed her legs over the edge of the cot to sit up. Arms straight and shoulders locked, Cain dipped her head. Her tone was heavy with disdain as she said, “It bemuses me how spectacularly you can fail to see what’s right in front of you.”
Kara only glared with fear and anger. Cain stood slowly, every bone and muscle moving with precision, and cocked her head with a taunting smirk. She still wore her dark military suit, her dark hair straight and dull, making her as stiff and severe as Kara remembered her.
“Y…” Kara had to bite down hard to keep from screaming, but her emotions were flaming. “You’re a frakking Cylon!”
She launched herself forward, striking hard with a fist at the woman’s face. Cain leaned to one side. Kara swiped again and she leaned the other way. Kara’s next blow connected with a thwack, but her fist was caught in Cain’s palm and fingers clawed into the back of her hand.
The woman who looked and spoke like Cain smirked provocatively, and Kara roared. She knocked Cain’s arm upward with her free arm, breaking her hold and in the motion of withdrawing her fist, swung it back under Cain’s jaw.
The woman spun, tugging Kara’s arm forward so the inertia made her fall onto her cot. She landed on outstretched hands and snapped her gaze back over her shoulder. Cain was backing away, chuckling darkly. Kara pushed herself back to her feet and renewed her attack.
Their engagement played out with mounting intensity but Cain avoided every assault. She finally managed to grab Kara’s arms and turn her about, locking an arm around her neck and holding her tightly while she bucked and struggled.
Cain laughed breathlessly. “I do regret we never got to do this, Thrace. Sparring with you would have been better than frakking that traitorous toaster ever was.”
Kara didn’t know what she was talking about but understood one thing well enough. “You’re a frakking toaster!”
She ducked out of Cain’s hold and kicked. Cain grabbed her foot and pulled, tugging Kara off her balance and letting her crash to the floor. A halo of dust puffed out around her and she coughed, winded. Cain sneered over her, still holding her foot. She jerked her leg back, and Kara yelped at the pain of her thigh muscles nearly tearing.
She grunted and twisted her body, chopping Cain’s feet with her other leg. But she had jumped and Kara kicked the table behind her instead. The impact shattered her tibia and she wailed with pain. Wincing and trembling she got awkwardly onto her hands and knees and tossed a savage look up at Cain who watched patiently.
“Are you done?” the dead woman asked.
Suddenly Kara sprang to her feet, throwing a cloud of dirt into Cain’s face. The woman had anticipated the attack and merely turned, her sleek hair fanning as she swirling out of its way. Kara screamed in frustration and their fight continued.
“Kara!”
She looked up. Sam stood inside the tent flap, a look of horror in his eyes. Kara’s heart sank. Cain was between her and her husband.
“Sam, get out!”
But he took a step closer, sweeping his eyes across the devastation caused by their struggle.
“Sam! Run!”