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Entry tags:
fic: BSG: Nothing Black and White, Roslin/Lee, 13+
Disclaimer: Not mine. Rating: 13+
Spoilers/Set: post 2.04, possible 2.05 spoilers
Pairing: Roslin/Lee
Length: 400
Notes: I was reminded of the whole licorice thing on Ysrith's lj earlier.
Nothing Black and White
by ALC Punk!
She tastes like licorice.
Lee hates the flavor, has hated it since his aunt Bernice kept buying him licorice All-Sorts every birthday, despite his mother trying to tactfully explain that he didn't like the taste.
Not that it matters. This stolen moment (like a hundred others over the course of his life) probably won't last longer than he has time to breathe in her scent. And it's probably fitting that the scent of lilacs and sweat is accompanied by the bitterness of licorice. He guesses she kept the guard's offering to his priestess, and doesn't know what he feels about that.
Laura pulls away before he does, and he worries about the awkwardness. But she's the professional president again, only a slight awareness lurking in the back of her eyes as she smooths down the front of her suit and smiles at him, "Thank you, Captain. Your report was very informative."
The others are coming, he can hear them down the corridor. And it occurs to him that there's a really bitter irony in the fact that Tom Zarek and his power brokers are helping them. "I thought you didn't like licorice." It's lame, but it's all he can think of to say. And it's better than demanding that they stop this farce and go back to Galactica (not that his father will be any better, but Zarek is so much worse).
She looks at him, and there's something oddly sad in her gaze. "It keeps me humble."
Before he can say anything to that (and he's not sure what he'd say to it, since his own lips still taste like licorice), Zarek turns the corner and smiles at them. The smile is false, but Lee's expecting that.
"If you're ready, madame president?" There's an ironic gleam in his eyes.
She smiles serenely at him, "Thank you, Mr. Zarek."
If Lee were lying to himself, he wouldn't know why he'd kissed the president of the colonies. But he does know, as she drifts past him, back straight, poise in place. He kissed her because she was quiet and sad, and it was something he could do that didn't require killing.
He thinks she's tired of the deaths she keeps seeing.
Tired of her own looming death.
Falling into step with one of the bodyguards Zarek has assigned to them, he wonders if having the raptor shot down would have been cleaner for them all.
-f-
Spoilers/Set: post 2.04, possible 2.05 spoilers
Pairing: Roslin/Lee
Length: 400
Notes: I was reminded of the whole licorice thing on Ysrith's lj earlier.
Nothing Black and White
by ALC Punk!
She tastes like licorice.
Lee hates the flavor, has hated it since his aunt Bernice kept buying him licorice All-Sorts every birthday, despite his mother trying to tactfully explain that he didn't like the taste.
Not that it matters. This stolen moment (like a hundred others over the course of his life) probably won't last longer than he has time to breathe in her scent. And it's probably fitting that the scent of lilacs and sweat is accompanied by the bitterness of licorice. He guesses she kept the guard's offering to his priestess, and doesn't know what he feels about that.
Laura pulls away before he does, and he worries about the awkwardness. But she's the professional president again, only a slight awareness lurking in the back of her eyes as she smooths down the front of her suit and smiles at him, "Thank you, Captain. Your report was very informative."
The others are coming, he can hear them down the corridor. And it occurs to him that there's a really bitter irony in the fact that Tom Zarek and his power brokers are helping them. "I thought you didn't like licorice." It's lame, but it's all he can think of to say. And it's better than demanding that they stop this farce and go back to Galactica (not that his father will be any better, but Zarek is so much worse).
She looks at him, and there's something oddly sad in her gaze. "It keeps me humble."
Before he can say anything to that (and he's not sure what he'd say to it, since his own lips still taste like licorice), Zarek turns the corner and smiles at them. The smile is false, but Lee's expecting that.
"If you're ready, madame president?" There's an ironic gleam in his eyes.
She smiles serenely at him, "Thank you, Mr. Zarek."
If Lee were lying to himself, he wouldn't know why he'd kissed the president of the colonies. But he does know, as she drifts past him, back straight, poise in place. He kissed her because she was quiet and sad, and it was something he could do that didn't require killing.
He thinks she's tired of the deaths she keeps seeing.
Tired of her own looming death.
Falling into step with one of the bodyguards Zarek has assigned to them, he wonders if having the raptor shot down would have been cleaner for them all.
-f-