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I can also post two crossover ficlets
Star Trek: The Next Generation/newBattlestar Galactica, spoilers for either show, probably, PG.
Disclaimer: not mine, all mistakes are my own, etc.
(I shall now leave the library and go home to figure out food... Maybe I'll have to dig out plates, even)
"The Earth I left wasn't a barren landscape," Ro says that first night. It's the only thing she says before dropping off to a fitful sleep while Kara leans against the wall and watches out of the mouth of their cave.
She doesn't ask Ro about the Earth she left, not because she's afraid (though maybe that's it), but because she knows the other woman is right. ::This is wrong::, Earth should be viable, flowers and plants, trees and blue waters shining under the sun (the way Caprica was before the Cylons).
-
"I've never known someone to complain so much and do so little," Ro snipes the next afternoon, whiping sweat from her brow.
"Supervising," says Kara, lounging against a tree. "It's my job to complain and yours to work."
They don't talk about what they're working on, though Kara knows a stationary jakes will be needed if they stay here for too long. They don't talk about looking for other survivors, either, though both occasionally watch the horizon. Kara, for people she's never known, Ro for people she hopes are still alive.
=-
=-
"In the kingdom of the blind, the one-eyed man is king," mutters Geordie from across the fire.
Sam can feel the heat of the fire on his skin, the sting where his knuckles were grazed on the rock walls earlier. But he can't see the fire. He only knows it's there from other indications-the scent of burning wood, the crackle and snap as the logs pop under the heat. "I'd crown you," he offers with sarcasm, "But I'm all out of crowns."
"It's ok. They're kinda heavy," replies Geordie, amusement in his tone.
He's not mocking Sam, but it still grates. Frak. Everything grates against him. There'd been an explosion, something more, something less, he had no idea anymore. And he'd landed--here. Where Geordie was the only other person, and where his eyes saw nothing. Geordie had wrapped something around them, claiming it might help them heal, but he hadn't sounded encouraging.
"I'm not a Doc," he'd murmured at the time, "Don't know where to find one, either. But I can keep us alive."
Once upon a time, Sam could keep himself alive without being led around by the hand. A part of him knows being bitter will get him nowhere. Most of him doesn't care when he's lying in the darkness that never goes away.
Disclaimer: not mine, all mistakes are my own, etc.
(I shall now leave the library and go home to figure out food... Maybe I'll have to dig out plates, even)
"The Earth I left wasn't a barren landscape," Ro says that first night. It's the only thing she says before dropping off to a fitful sleep while Kara leans against the wall and watches out of the mouth of their cave.
She doesn't ask Ro about the Earth she left, not because she's afraid (though maybe that's it), but because she knows the other woman is right. ::This is wrong::, Earth should be viable, flowers and plants, trees and blue waters shining under the sun (the way Caprica was before the Cylons).
-
"I've never known someone to complain so much and do so little," Ro snipes the next afternoon, whiping sweat from her brow.
"Supervising," says Kara, lounging against a tree. "It's my job to complain and yours to work."
They don't talk about what they're working on, though Kara knows a stationary jakes will be needed if they stay here for too long. They don't talk about looking for other survivors, either, though both occasionally watch the horizon. Kara, for people she's never known, Ro for people she hopes are still alive.
=-
=-
"In the kingdom of the blind, the one-eyed man is king," mutters Geordie from across the fire.
Sam can feel the heat of the fire on his skin, the sting where his knuckles were grazed on the rock walls earlier. But he can't see the fire. He only knows it's there from other indications-the scent of burning wood, the crackle and snap as the logs pop under the heat. "I'd crown you," he offers with sarcasm, "But I'm all out of crowns."
"It's ok. They're kinda heavy," replies Geordie, amusement in his tone.
He's not mocking Sam, but it still grates. Frak. Everything grates against him. There'd been an explosion, something more, something less, he had no idea anymore. And he'd landed--here. Where Geordie was the only other person, and where his eyes saw nothing. Geordie had wrapped something around them, claiming it might help them heal, but he hadn't sounded encouraging.
"I'm not a Doc," he'd murmured at the time, "Don't know where to find one, either. But I can keep us alive."
Once upon a time, Sam could keep himself alive without being led around by the hand. A part of him knows being bitter will get him nowhere. Most of him doesn't care when he's lying in the darkness that never goes away.
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Yaah for fic.
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