echos_revenge

A drabble for my Pookette.

"Kara, what the frak is this?"

"This, Lee, is the reason why we flew all the way across the frakkin' galaxy." She picks up the bowl and and fork and straddles his lap.

"Kara, it's orange."

"It's good."

"It looks worse than algae loaf."

"It's good, here..." She settles in and forks up some of the noodles, "open up, baby."

"No, that stuff'll kill you."

"Idiot, you were a frakking fighter pilot."

"Yeah, and now I'm not, and I refuse to... Mmmph..."

She giggles at the way his eyes bulge out when she shoves the fork in. "Good, see?"

He chews reluctantly, then thoughtfully. "Um... I might need you to present more evidence..."

Title: Forever
Author: sparklegirl79
Rating: PG-13, mild language, adult situations
Pairing: Kara/Lee, Kara/Sam
Disclaimer: Totally not mine, just like to play with the shinies
Summary: Post-Maelstrom angst. One of the CAG's least favorite duties.




It fell to him. It usually did, he expected it, but he never expected this, not even when he supposed she was trying to warn him.

'Stupid, frakked-up bitch,' he thought as he put her things into a cardboard box. 'It wasn't supposed to be you. It was supposed to be us.'

He traced his hand across the dent her head had made in her pillow and swallowed hard. He had put her out there. He had insisted that she go, though she'd told him herself that she didn't want to. Came as close as Starbuck does to admitting that she's scared. He palms the black and red pyramid ball last and slowly lays down, turning his face into her pillow and breathing the familiar scent of her before staring up at the bottom of the bunk above hers. He didn't know how long he laid there before he heard Sam come in. He knew it was Sam, everyone else who shared the bunkroom had conveniently found somewhere else to be while the CAG performed his gruesome grieving ritual. He didn't look over as Sam leaned against the barrier above Starbuck's rack.

"It should have been you."

"Yeah."

"You're not arguing?" He sounded surprised.

"No, I was her CAG, her wingman, her friend. It was my job to keep her safe. I failed her. Again." He pretended not to notice when his voice cracked at the end, and thankfully Sam did too. "You know, there's usually an auction of the pilot's things. Sort of a... tradition. Raises money for the, um, the widow and lets the others... grieve, celebrate their life, their friendship. You know, whatever."

"It's a crap tradition, Lee."

"Yeah, it is." He sits up, still not looking at Sam's face, and takes the box over to her locker, tossing the pyramid ball inside. "So I guess you can just have this stuff. Do what you want with it." He brushes his hand over the little box she kept her idols in before setting that in the bigger box as well.

"Do you, you know... want anything?"

He glanced up sharply at that. Sam's eyes were red-rimmed, but dry. Lee wondered why he hadn't cried over her yet. He was... hollow. Numb. "Just the photo, to put it up where she said she wanted to be." He taps the picture of her and Zak and himself that she still had taped to her locker door.

"That's Zak, right? Your brother? You gonna put yourself up there with them?"

"Yeah." He rubs his thumb across the other two's faces ans squeezes his eyes shut, swallowing hard again and tucking the photo into his pocket, turning back to his work.

"Damnit Lee, I thought you said you loved her." Sam's voice sounded choked, too thick. Lee couldn't turn around, see him crying, or all his precious composure would be lost.

"I did. I... do. I always will. She was... one of the most important people in my life. I don't think she ever really understood that. I guess I failed at that too."

"She's not dead." Sam's voice sounded stronger now, angry. Good.

"She is Sam, I saw her ship go up like a frakking firework."

"She isn't. She had a destiny. What sort of shitty destiny is it to get killed uselessly? She wasn't even fighting anything."

"Do you really believe that crap? She was fighting herself, Sam. She knew what she was doing. She said she wasn't afraid any more, and then she blew up." His voice cracks again, and he bows his head, gritting his teeth. He turns and shoves the box in Sam's direction. "It's yours, now get the frak out of here.

"Maybe you should go and get yourself blown up like the other two."

Sam didn't see Lee's fist until an inch before it connected with his jaw. "I said get out." He held on to the anger, wrapped it around himself like a blanket. Anger was better than grief, though he preferred numb.

"Fine, I'm out." Sam's voice sounded thick again, but this time Lee was almost certain it was from blood. "She'll be back Lee, and I'm going to tell her that I had faith in her and you didn't."

"You do that, Sam." He was wiping the blood from his own split knuckles as he heard the hatch close. He turned slowly back towards her bunk in the deserted room. Sam had left the little box she'd always kept her idols in. He laid back on her bed slowly, opening the box and pulling the little figurines out, tracing his thumbs across the places she had done so many times before.

"Lords of Kobol... if you're really out there... take care of her? Please?"

He didn't realize he was crying until he had to draw a shaking breath, then the wracking sobs wouldn't stop.

"It was supposed to be us...Forever."

Title: The Gift
Author: sparklegirl79
Rating: PG-13, mild language
Pairing: Kara/Lee fluff, hint of Helo/Sharon
Disclaimer: Totally not mine, just like to play with the shinies
Summary: A bit of fluff to break up the angst.



Kara Thrace had a cold; runny nose, sore throat, itchy eyes, the whole thing. Kara Thrace had a cold, and everybody knew it. Not that she went around whining about it, she's not that kind of girl, but still, everyone knew. She'd sneezed all over some paperwork, and if it had been going to anyone else but Tigh, she'd have had to redo it. It pissed her off, but it pissed him off more, so that was alright. She'd yelled at the nuggets in her class until she'd had a coughing fit in the middle of a particularly good rant and had to dismiss them. That had pissed her off even more. She couldn't taste any of the food in the mess, so that was actually an improvement, but it still pissed her off. She'd spent the last two nights tossing and turning in her rack, alternating between sniffing and coughing, and blowing her nose, and that pissed everyone else off. She'd be damned if she went to Cottle for a cold though, so she suffered, and made damn sure everyone else was suffering too. It wasn't that unusual, it had been going around. She was sure she saw Racetrack sneeze on her tray intentionally last week in the mess. Everyone was getting it. Except Lee. Lee never seemed to catch it. That pissed her off most of all.

"That proves it. He's a Cylon."

"What the frak are you talking about, Starbuck?"

"Lee, Helo. He's a Cylon. He's the only one that hasn't gotten this damned plague."

"It's a cold, Kara. Not the plague."

"Still, he hasn't gotten it, so he has to be immune somehow. Cylon. We should throw him out the airlock."

"Right, 'cause that'd make you feel a hell of a lot better. What'd he yell at you for this time?"

"Missing the trap on my landing after CAP earlier."

"You what? Starbuck, are you blushing?"

"Shut the hell up Helo, no. Besides, it wasn't my fault. I sneezed at the last second. Six times."

"Nice. Kara, you need some rest. Switch schedules with somebody."

"Can't. We're short on leads as it is. It'd frak everything up, and you know how he loves his nice, orderly schedule."

"He's not that much of an ass."

"I'm not feeling terribly generous at the moment. Has Sharon gotten the plague yet?"

"No..."

"See? I told you. He's a Cylon."

"You don't have to act so pleased about it."

"Why not? I've just uncovered a new Cylon, I'll be a big damn hero."

"Good night, Kara."

"Night Karl."

She sighed and headed back to her bunk, the ambrosia having utterly failed to burn the germs from her body. She was just about to fall face-first into her rack when she noticed a package laying on her pillow. Curious and not a little wary, she opened it and gasped. Inside there were six fat, juicy oranges, and a packet of herbal cough drops. She sat there, staring at it, as Lee walked in, towel around his waist, shaking water from his ears.

"Hey Starbuck"

"Hey, Cylon."

"What?"

"Nothing." She grinned up at him, "I got a present."

"So I see," he returns her smile, "I guess you've got a secret admirer."

"Whatever, probably just someone who's tired of me being all sickly. I wonder where they got oranges though..."

"Why can't it be both?" He pulled on his shorts, tossing his towel in the hamper and dropping to his bunk opposite hers. "You like oranges, don't you?"

"They're my favorite. I haven't had fresh oranges in... gods... I can't remember the last time I had fresh oranges."

"Well they're good for you, so I'd say eat up. Vitamin C and all that."

"Yeah. Wonder where they came from though. Last time I checked, fresh fruit cost more than your first born child..."

"Maybe your secret admirer has connections." He leaned back in his bunk, swinging his feet up and reaching for the book on the little shelf.

"Lee..."

"Yeah?"

"You have connections, don't you?"

He chuckled softly, "Yeah, I do."

"In the black market."

"Yeah."

"Where they have oranges."

"Yeah."

"And you know I like oranges, don't you?"

"I seem to recal something of the sort, yeah."

"Lee?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you get me the oranges?"

"And the cough drops, don't forget the cough drops. Those were almost as hard."

"Why?"

"Because you were terrorizing the nuggets, and because I thought that maybe I could get some sleep tonight. I got some ear plugs as well."

She looked down at the fruit in her lap, eyes suddenly prickling with tears. "Lee Adama, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me..." She dumped the fruit back onto her pillow and crossed the bunkroom in two strides, leaning in to press a grateful kiss to his mouth. "Thank you."

He stared at her in mute surprise for long moments before he found his voice, "Frak. Now I'm gonna get it..."

Title: She
Author: sparklegirl79
Rating: PG-13, violence, adult situations
Pairing: Kara/Lee, Lee/Dee, hints of Kara/Sam
Disclaimer: Totally not mine, just like to play with the shinies
Summary: What Lee might have been thinking just after the events of Unfinished Business.




He stares at himself in his mirror for a long time, barely recognizing himself through the swelling and the bruises. Bruises that Helo gave him, more bruises that she gave him. At least he looks now the same way he's felt for the last year and a half; battered and bruised, bleeding and broken. Exhausted. He touches the swelling under his eye and thinks it's strange that he feels lighter now than he had in all that time. He'd slept last night and woken in the same position he'd lain down in.

She missed him. She said she missed him. After she'd picked the fight, after he'd let her, after all the bitter words, the blows, the kicks, the hurt and anger and betrayal, she missed him. He'd nearly burst into frustrated, relieved tears right then in the ring. He couldn't let go, he'd tried. One more thing he'd failed at.

He was certain they would have stayed there forever, locked together, leaning on each other, but that someone, one of the few left had shouted something and the moment was broken. They'd tried to pull apart, too exhausted to be embarrassed, but they'd faltered. Too weak to stand on their own, they could always manage together. If Dee hadn't been there, he'd never have made it back to their quarters. He didn't see where she went. Part of him didn't want to know. Dee had taken him back to their room, cleaned his cuts gently, thoroughly, silently, and put him to bed, crawling in beside him, falling asleep with her back to him. He'd failed her too. She never fought him, she never bruised him, cut him, made him want to scream and shake her. Never screamed back. Never told him in no uncertain terms what an ass he was being. Never made his blood boil. Never made him want to risk everything for her, just so they could finish their argument later. Never made his heart jump to his throat with a glance across a room. Never made him feel like the only one that mattered while she was laughing at him. Never surprised him with a glimpse of the tenderness beneath the tough shell. She didn't have a tough shell to crack. With Dee what you saw was what you got. Most of the time. That didn't mean one was better or worse than the other, did it?

He sighs, looking down at his shaving kit and slowly begins to put it away. There's no way he can shave with one eye swollen nearly shut, and he'll be damned if he'll ask Anastasia to help him. He shuts the cabinet door and turns to leave. Maybe he'll go down to the rec room. Maybe there'll be a card game. Maybe Starbuck will be there.

It's a pity that Simpson doesn't mind heights, because this would be the perfect hiding place, if her were. Archie sighs and scrambles higher through the rigging, to the top of the foresail and sits, one leg on either side of the spar, turning his face to the sun.

If only he could fly away. He eyes the gulls gliding along side of the ship with open envy. If he could just fly away...

Where would he go? He glances down at the crew so far below, like little bugs, scurrying about their business, not paying the least bit of attention to the one watching them from above. Breifly he wonders if this is how God feels; watching all of humanity working, sinning, missing their footing, and only once in a whils seeing anyone looking up. He shakes his head and tells himself that he's being silly, that God has far more important things to do than sit around all day and watch people put new caulking in the seams of a single ship. And so does he.

He sighs again, swinging his leg back over the spar, lowering himself onto the ropes. Next time, he thinks he'll bring a book.

There is a power that women possess; to hold the entire world in their arms, and she does. Sometime it may seem like he is holding her, but the better part of the time it is her that is doing the holding. She holds him as he whimpers in his sleep, dreaming of pasts that he dares not tell even her. She holds him so that she doesn't have to leave him again. She holds him as she always has, because of all the powers she posssesses, this is the most important because it is the simplest. And she knows, as she holds him, and protects him from his fears, that he will do the same for her, has done so many times. And when they create a new life, she holds and protects that, and that is something he cannot do. And she knows now what she had been practicing for all this time. She holds that tiny life within her and she knows that she can do this. It is within her power.

I originally invented this to be a writing journal, but since I never write anything worth-while it has become stagnant. However, I like the name, so I don't want to delete it. Perhaps sometime in the future I will find a use for it.

Until then.

Cheers
~Jessica

Echo has no words of her own. Echo cannot do anything except reflect that which other people do. It is all she can do to take those offerings and change them slightly, perhaps revealing some truth otherwise hidden, perhaps concealing things that had once been clear. making them better, clearer, softer, more pleasing, more mysterious, better, . she doesn't know why this is, and sometimes it is for the greater good, and sometimes it is for her own, twisted pleasure. Most of all she is lonely. People come to her, tell her obscene things, sing to her, recite her bits of poetry, and she laughs, repeating them. then they go away. and she is left alone again.