FIC: Fret by Kate Andrews (Lee, PG)
Title: Fret
Author: Kate Andrews (idontwannawait at hotmail dot com)
Rating: PGSpoilers: The mini, I guess
Character: Lee
Words: 1,000
Spoilers: Through Act of Contrition
Archive: Sure. Just include this header and drop me a line so I know where it is.
Summary: The greats. The guilty pleasures. All of it gone. Most anyway.
Note: This was written for the first bsg1000 challenge, "Things Most Missed"
Lee missed music. Not that there wasn't any around, but. . . the majority wasn't. All music ever written. 600 years of recorded music, written music, concerts on tape. The greats. The guilty pleasures. All of it gone. Most anyway.
He sat back on his bunk, curtain half closed, and slid his fingers up the neck of the geminion guitar. Pressed his fingertips against the frets and plucked, exploring the range.
The selection that remained hadn't been picked by experts, even if those experts had survived, who brought "Music I'd like to survive the holocaust" with them on every trip? He hadn't heard of any music catalog projects. People were too busy with the people catalog projects, and the try-not-to-get-killed-by-the-cylons project was pretty important for him and those he knew at the moment.
One of the pilots killed at the celebration had had this in his locker. The owner's best friend hadn't wanted to look at it, so he'd given it to his CAG. One of his jobs was taking care of dead men's things.
He'd offered it at the daily briefing, thinking that someone else who played was on board, but no one had seemed interested, so he'd taken it. It made no sense to waste items like this. So here he was, in a rare moment of breathing time, alone in the barracks, picking his way up and down the neck of an unfamiliar instrument.
He'd played guitar for a few months when he was younger. Different guitar, more strings and a higher range. Zak had picked it up and just. . . flown with it. Lee didn't have the ear his brother had had. 2 weeks, and Zak was as good as Lee had been after 6 months. After 6 months, Zak could hear a tune once and play you it back.
Zak had been too young to go to Caprica City alone. One of Lee's happiest memories of Zak had been sitting on a park bench across from him, keeping an eye on him as he'd gathered a crowd. They'd called out tunes and he'd known about half. Ones Lee'd never heard him play before. Zak had been in his element. It was what he'd been born to do.
Someone drew back the curtain on his bunk.
"You suck at that. It's Bigfoots, right?"
"Was."
"Of course," Starbuck said.
He struggled to play a scale, but the thing was tuned to a scale he didn't recognize. Strange half tones dirtied it up and it had been so long since he had one of these in his hand. He had a song in his head that he wanted to get out. Wanted to save, before he forgot it completely. Already, he couldn't remember the second verse, or most of the bridge. The moment he reached for it in his mind, it slipped further away and merged into other songs. Couldn't get it quite right.
"Do know any Aaron Reese?"
She sat opposite him on his bunk, legs stretching out along side of his. "Zak loved his stuff."
"Did he?"
She smiled, wistfully. "He was really getting into him right before the thing."
"I sent him a recording . . . that's right. I'd forgotten about it."
"He wouldn't stop playing the damn thing until he'd memorized every song."
"Which took him, what?"
"A week and a half."
Apollo played the first 7 notes, then tried strumming a few chords. They weren't quite right.
"Here," She crawled towards him and straddled his knee. His other leg leaned against the back wall, bent, supporting the instrument. She picked up one of his fingers and slid it down a fret, then pushed his middle finger at the first knuckle, making the pad press down three strings at once.
"Like that, I think. Diminished." She hopped off the bunk and he could hear her clattering the hangars in her locker, putting away laundry. She'd smelled like the industrial strength detergent And cigar smoke.
He tried again, and the sound rung strong and clear. Strumming a few times, he tried humming the tune, but couldn't remember how it continued. He cursed quietly and tried for the second chord. Got it that time. "I wish I had this recording. I miss my collection."
"He loved the songs you sent him, you know."
Lee tried the combination a few times, trying to get the transition between the chords.
"I was never much of a music fan, but I loved watching him play. I'd wake up to it in the mornings. He made up the silliest, sappiest songs for me."
"Hmm?" Lee turned to sit on the edge of his bunk. His view was partially blocked by the table between their bunks, but he saw her turning a small case over and over in her hands.
"That's how he proposed to me. He wrote a song."
Lee smiled, but he was glad he couldn't see her face. The tone of her voice was enough.
"You never told me about that."
"We don't talk about him."
"We don't. That's true."
"Musical talent doesn't run in the family, I guess."
" I don't know. My mother told me that my father used to play piano. Perhaps it's recessive. Music was Zak's calling. Not mine. I would have loved to have heard his stuff. Just another thing lost, I guess." He looked back down at the guitar and continued picking out the tune. His throat felt tight and he couldn't look at her right now.
A few moments later, he felt her fingers ruffling his hair. She slid the back of her hand down his cheek and he heard something drop on the bed next to him.
After she'd shut the hatch behind her, he'd slipped the disk into the player at the back of the barracks. Soft strumming came from the speakers. Then, "Kara, there's something I need to say."
He lay back on his bunk, guitar on top of him, and listened to his brother's voice.
Cross posted at bsg1000, bsg_creative, bsg2003fics, and captainapollo
Author: Kate Andrews (idontwannawait at hotmail dot com)
Rating: PGSpoilers: The mini, I guess
Character: Lee
Words: 1,000
Spoilers: Through Act of Contrition
Archive: Sure. Just include this header and drop me a line so I know where it is.
Summary: The greats. The guilty pleasures. All of it gone. Most anyway.
Note: This was written for the first bsg1000 challenge, "Things Most Missed"
Lee missed music. Not that there wasn't any around, but. . . the majority wasn't. All music ever written. 600 years of recorded music, written music, concerts on tape. The greats. The guilty pleasures. All of it gone. Most anyway.
He sat back on his bunk, curtain half closed, and slid his fingers up the neck of the geminion guitar. Pressed his fingertips against the frets and plucked, exploring the range.
The selection that remained hadn't been picked by experts, even if those experts had survived, who brought "Music I'd like to survive the holocaust" with them on every trip? He hadn't heard of any music catalog projects. People were too busy with the people catalog projects, and the try-not-to-get-killed-by-the-cylons project was pretty important for him and those he knew at the moment.
One of the pilots killed at the celebration had had this in his locker. The owner's best friend hadn't wanted to look at it, so he'd given it to his CAG. One of his jobs was taking care of dead men's things.
He'd offered it at the daily briefing, thinking that someone else who played was on board, but no one had seemed interested, so he'd taken it. It made no sense to waste items like this. So here he was, in a rare moment of breathing time, alone in the barracks, picking his way up and down the neck of an unfamiliar instrument.
He'd played guitar for a few months when he was younger. Different guitar, more strings and a higher range. Zak had picked it up and just. . . flown with it. Lee didn't have the ear his brother had had. 2 weeks, and Zak was as good as Lee had been after 6 months. After 6 months, Zak could hear a tune once and play you it back.
Zak had been too young to go to Caprica City alone. One of Lee's happiest memories of Zak had been sitting on a park bench across from him, keeping an eye on him as he'd gathered a crowd. They'd called out tunes and he'd known about half. Ones Lee'd never heard him play before. Zak had been in his element. It was what he'd been born to do.
Someone drew back the curtain on his bunk.
"You suck at that. It's Bigfoots, right?"
"Was."
"Of course," Starbuck said.
He struggled to play a scale, but the thing was tuned to a scale he didn't recognize. Strange half tones dirtied it up and it had been so long since he had one of these in his hand. He had a song in his head that he wanted to get out. Wanted to save, before he forgot it completely. Already, he couldn't remember the second verse, or most of the bridge. The moment he reached for it in his mind, it slipped further away and merged into other songs. Couldn't get it quite right.
"Do know any Aaron Reese?"
She sat opposite him on his bunk, legs stretching out along side of his. "Zak loved his stuff."
"Did he?"
She smiled, wistfully. "He was really getting into him right before the thing."
"I sent him a recording . . . that's right. I'd forgotten about it."
"He wouldn't stop playing the damn thing until he'd memorized every song."
"Which took him, what?"
"A week and a half."
Apollo played the first 7 notes, then tried strumming a few chords. They weren't quite right.
"Here," She crawled towards him and straddled his knee. His other leg leaned against the back wall, bent, supporting the instrument. She picked up one of his fingers and slid it down a fret, then pushed his middle finger at the first knuckle, making the pad press down three strings at once.
"Like that, I think. Diminished." She hopped off the bunk and he could hear her clattering the hangars in her locker, putting away laundry. She'd smelled like the industrial strength detergent And cigar smoke.
He tried again, and the sound rung strong and clear. Strumming a few times, he tried humming the tune, but couldn't remember how it continued. He cursed quietly and tried for the second chord. Got it that time. "I wish I had this recording. I miss my collection."
"He loved the songs you sent him, you know."
Lee tried the combination a few times, trying to get the transition between the chords.
"I was never much of a music fan, but I loved watching him play. I'd wake up to it in the mornings. He made up the silliest, sappiest songs for me."
"Hmm?" Lee turned to sit on the edge of his bunk. His view was partially blocked by the table between their bunks, but he saw her turning a small case over and over in her hands.
"That's how he proposed to me. He wrote a song."
Lee smiled, but he was glad he couldn't see her face. The tone of her voice was enough.
"You never told me about that."
"We don't talk about him."
"We don't. That's true."
"Musical talent doesn't run in the family, I guess."
" I don't know. My mother told me that my father used to play piano. Perhaps it's recessive. Music was Zak's calling. Not mine. I would have loved to have heard his stuff. Just another thing lost, I guess." He looked back down at the guitar and continued picking out the tune. His throat felt tight and he couldn't look at her right now.
A few moments later, he felt her fingers ruffling his hair. She slid the back of her hand down his cheek and he heard something drop on the bed next to him.
After she'd shut the hatch behind her, he'd slipped the disk into the player at the back of the barracks. Soft strumming came from the speakers. Then, "Kara, there's something I need to say."
He lay back on his bunk, guitar on top of him, and listened to his brother's voice.
Cross posted at bsg1000, bsg_creative, bsg2003fics, and captainapollo