The Water Bearer
Title: The Water Bearer
Author: afrakaday
Word count: 300
Rating: T
A/N: Shout out to nixmom for beta and title. The latter got "Aquarius" stuck in my head--thanks.
They’re finally back in his quarters, wrapped in their robes on the couch, recovering from their respective ordeals and allowing themselves this moment to bask in the confessions they’d made to each other. About time.
"When I was on the basestar," Laura murmurs into his chest, "I had...visions. I was dying in sickbay. You were there, holding my hand. Lee and Kara were there too."
"Uh-huh.” His wide hand rubs soothing circles over her back. He believes her without question.
"It surprised me that she was there."
The circles cease. “Why?”
She scoffs into his fuzzy brown lapel. “Bill. Kara and I were never particularly close, but then two months ago, you may recall she pulled a gun on me and forced me to try to kill her.”
Bill shudders beneath her before resuming his caresses.
“I still don’t know what to believe about her,” Laura says, unable to suppress her bitter laugh. “And yet...”
“Yeah?”
“You know what she is. To you.”
"She’s my daughter." He pauses, clasping her body even closer against his, hoping she can feel how much he means--with every fiber of his being--what he's about to say, and why. "And yours, too."
She lifts up her head so she can look at him. As their eyes lock, she fleetingly indulges in what if:
we'd met twenty-some years ago
we'd had a family
the Cylons had left us alone
but since even her visions don't allow her such fancy, she is instead struck by an overwhelming gratitude for the family that she does have (a daughter willing to help her discover the truth of the Opera House; an ornery son following in her presidential footsteps). All thanks to Bill, and his endless capacity to love.
Just love someone.
She does.
Author: afrakaday
Word count: 300
Rating: T
A/N: Shout out to nixmom for beta and title. The latter got "Aquarius" stuck in my head--thanks.
They’re finally back in his quarters, wrapped in their robes on the couch, recovering from their respective ordeals and allowing themselves this moment to bask in the confessions they’d made to each other. About time.
"When I was on the basestar," Laura murmurs into his chest, "I had...visions. I was dying in sickbay. You were there, holding my hand. Lee and Kara were there too."
"Uh-huh.” His wide hand rubs soothing circles over her back. He believes her without question.
"It surprised me that she was there."
The circles cease. “Why?”
She scoffs into his fuzzy brown lapel. “Bill. Kara and I were never particularly close, but then two months ago, you may recall she pulled a gun on me and forced me to try to kill her.”
Bill shudders beneath her before resuming his caresses.
“I still don’t know what to believe about her,” Laura says, unable to suppress her bitter laugh. “And yet...”
“Yeah?”
“You know what she is. To you.”
"She’s my daughter." He pauses, clasping her body even closer against his, hoping she can feel how much he means--with every fiber of his being--what he's about to say, and why. "And yours, too."
She lifts up her head so she can look at him. As their eyes lock, she fleetingly indulges in what if:
we'd met twenty-some years ago
we'd had a family
the Cylons had left us alone
but since even her visions don't allow her such fancy, she is instead struck by an overwhelming gratitude for the family that she does have (a daughter willing to help her discover the truth of the Opera House; an ornery son following in her presidential footsteps). All thanks to Bill, and his endless capacity to love.
Just love someone.
She does.