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*spams one last time* Ficlet: newBSG, Mom and Dad and post-s2-spoilers
No, really, no s3 spoilers, just s2 ones (I haven't read any s3 ones), but all the way through the end of s2. And no title. Is fluffy.
ISSOTOTALLYformyA.j.
inmediares
"Kara." Bill tries not to let his relief show. After all, it's not every day you return to the planet you thought would be completely occupied by Cylons and find it, well, free of them.
"Sir." Starbuck nods to him.
"Madame--" He stops, remembering she isn't anymore, "Ms. Roslin."
A smirk plays around her lips, telling him she knows exactly what he almost slipped and said. "The Cylons decided we were too... Godless, I believe they said."
Later, he's leaning against a wall, watching the reunion in full swing when she approaches him. "I'd ask you to dance, but there's something horrible that died on your upper lip."
He chuckles, "I'll have you know it's the finest mustache in the entire fleet."
"It could be the only one, and I'd still find it reprehensible." She leans close enough that he can smell the lavendar she likes. He wonders if she's still on the tiny bottle she brought with her from Caprica, or if this is a new blend.
"There aren't any barbers here."
"Maybe not." The look she tosses him is full of amusement. "But tomorrow, it's the first thing on your agenda."
He holds out his arm, "Care to dance, anyway?"
"Why, Admiral, people might talk." But she's moving, taking the arm and the hand and turning into him.
She fits against him in a way that scares the pants off of him. Or would, if that wouldn't be undignified. "Let 'em. At least this war is over."
"Yes." A sound similar to a sigh escapes her.
-f-
ISSOTOTALLYformyA.j.
inmediares
"Kara." Bill tries not to let his relief show. After all, it's not every day you return to the planet you thought would be completely occupied by Cylons and find it, well, free of them.
"Sir." Starbuck nods to him.
"Madame--" He stops, remembering she isn't anymore, "Ms. Roslin."
A smirk plays around her lips, telling him she knows exactly what he almost slipped and said. "The Cylons decided we were too... Godless, I believe they said."
Later, he's leaning against a wall, watching the reunion in full swing when she approaches him. "I'd ask you to dance, but there's something horrible that died on your upper lip."
He chuckles, "I'll have you know it's the finest mustache in the entire fleet."
"It could be the only one, and I'd still find it reprehensible." She leans close enough that he can smell the lavendar she likes. He wonders if she's still on the tiny bottle she brought with her from Caprica, or if this is a new blend.
"There aren't any barbers here."
"Maybe not." The look she tosses him is full of amusement. "But tomorrow, it's the first thing on your agenda."
He holds out his arm, "Care to dance, anyway?"
"Why, Admiral, people might talk." But she's moving, taking the arm and the hand and turning into him.
She fits against him in a way that scares the pants off of him. Or would, if that wouldn't be undignified. "Let 'em. At least this war is over."
"Yes." A sound similar to a sigh escapes her.
-f-