fic: newBSG, Sharon/Helo, This is not a Quadratic Equation

Disclaimer: not mine.
Pairing: Sharon and Karl Agathon. vague references to Kara Thrace/Sam Anders
Spoilers: most of season three, no speculation for season four. Set before Crossroads.
Rating: um... PG for some language, I think.
Genre: gen, family-fun, cute
Notes: written at work, cleaned up, expanded and mocked for excessiveness cuteness.

This is not a Quadratic Equation
by ALC Punk!
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"If I were Lee Adama's towels, where would I be?"

Oh, god. I don't think I'm packed (untrue).

Actually. For those of you who know nique and I, for the record, we each have one item of checked luggage, and, at the moment, only one carry-on shared between us. In point of fact, I am going to go dig out my zippered backpack, though, because I might need it.

Have made myself eat breakfast, and am now putting on nail polish, since my nails look crap.

For those who remember it, last night I came across the angel costume while looking for Furlow. I have tossed it. I won't ever wear the pants again, and the beads on the top will be useful. I did keep the white tank top, though I don't know that it's all that useful, built-in bra or not (those bras, they do nothing).

My brain woke me up this morning at 6:30, going, "Time to get up for work!" to which I cursed at it, and tried to dissuade it. Sadly, no luck.

For those who have it, I can get to my voicemail now. I called and had them reset it, since a year without being able to get to messages is silly.

eta: *snickers* Overheard in the Madhouse ten seconds ago.

lyssie: I suppose I should put shoes on.
nique: I should probably put real clothing on.

I is alive.

Was falling out of my chair drunk earlier, but the buzz has gone. Sigh.

Am still antsy. May go back to con.