BSG Crack!fic: Cylon Math on Baltar's Basestar
Crackfic!
Title: Cylon Math on Baltar's Basestar
Pairings: Caprica/Baltar/Three
Rating: PG-13, for talking about but no actual sex
Summary: Baltar finally employs good ol' 'rithmatic in his quest to find out who the Final Five are. Set during the Baseship days.
Note: I just kinda wrote this fast, so forgive it if it's got bumpy places. Tell me if I should post it to the comm.
Baltar woke up from a dream, startled and groggy, but he soon recalled where he was with the red lights and the feel of a body on either side of him. Despite the jarring way he awoke, Caprica slept like a rock. Or maybe like a toaster, he wasn't sure.
Three, however, did not sleep like a toaster. A blender. Maybe.
"Darling," she said, pulling his head onto her bosom. He was rather fond of bosoms; she wasn't stupid. "Did you see any glimpses of the final five?"
"No," he said dejectedly. "I think it was…" He cut himself off. No sense her hearing about his recurring dreams of Gaeta laid out over the console in the CIC.
Gaeta. He often wondered if the man had recovered from losing him as a mentor. There would be no one to guide him to higher brain function, not among those ungrateful troglodytes. What would Gaeta do if he were trying to discern who the final five Cylons were?
(You know, other than gaze longingly at him and call him Doctor. Not that Gaius minded either overly much.)
What would Gaeta-the old Gaeta, the mooning one, the one who didn't try to kill him on New Caprica-do?
Here Gaius had been all carried away with mystical visions and this admittedly flim flam sounding monotheism of theirs and the answer was staring him in the face.
Literally.
"Three," he said.
"Yes," she replied.
"No, I mean three. Me. Three."
"You're not making any sense."
"There are twelve Cylon models, and you and Caprica are Three and Six, and that's nine. Which means I'm three."
"I don't understand."
"Don't you see-this is why I'm here with the both of you, why I survived New Caprica to become your willing sex slave. You all are Three and Six and obviously I'm three, too, because that adds up to twelve."
"Hrumph," Six mumbled, coming out of a deep sleep. "Shut up, both of you. Nobody cares."
"We care," Gaius said. "You know we care. Both of us. Besides, it's two to three."
"No," Three answered, raising her eyebrows and smiling. "It's three and three to six."
"Did you say sex?" Caprica replied sleepily.
"She never does understand our puns," Gaius mumbled. "No, darling," he said to Caprica. "It's three and Three to Six. To Caprica. To you. What we were saying: if I'm the last Cylon model, I must be three. Because twelve minus three minus six is three."
Caprica said with a yawn, "That's assuming this is something more than just mildly kinky sex, Gaius, and I'm not ready to make that logical leap." At the mention of sex, she snuggled closer to him, but, unfortunately, very soon he was sitting up in the bed, running the numbers in his head.
"No no no," he muttered. "I'm right. Of course. I'm always right. We are here together for a reason, and it has to be in the numbers."
Three heartily agreed, but her brain was slower than Gaius's, so she was still pondering… Okay, mostly wondering how she might get Caprica out of the bed. Gaius couldn't divide his attention worth a damn, and the leggy blonde generally won in the popularity contest. Damn her and her easy orgasms and pornographic moaning.
"Wait a minute," Caprica said quite seriously. "You may be right. But if you're both Three, there's a huge problem with a resurrection bath somewhere." She dissolved into lazy, sleepy giggle.
Gaius and Three did not find her very amusing.
"Gaius," Three said. "Maybe the mystical connection doesn't involve all of us. Maybe it's just you and I that are important: twelve minus Three is nine."
Gaius couldn't help reflexively look back at Caprica, who was frowning something terrible. It was really rather adorable.
Caprica snapped, "Well, then, it could just as easily by twelve minus Six is six. It's actually more likely. After all, God tells us that we need LOVE to-"
"Six," Gaius said with a sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. "No no no. That puts us right back to you and I being the same Cylon model, darling, and I for one know I am eternally grateful you look so very different from me."
He had tried, really he had, but Caprica was having none of his innuendo and flattery. "Fine," she said.
"Fine," Three echoed, wanting to feel included.
Gaius said, "Maybe I'm the inconsequential one here. Maybe I'm just the catalyst. Three plus Six is nine."
"Oh, so we're back on the nine again!" Caprica said. "That's just great. No, really, I mean it. I'd just as soon you leave me out of this insanity anyway."
But Three was nodding to herself furiously. "Of course," she said. "Perhaps we're thinking about this all wrong. We were looking for the total number of models instead of a particular model. Maybe you're number Nine, Gaius."
"That still implies," Caprica sighed, "that who Gaius is and if he's one of the Final Five has anything whatsoever to do with the both of us being inexplicably charmed by his greasy long hair and pasty complexion at the same time."
Gaius choosing not to be offended by the insult. Caprica often said things she didn't mean when she was angry. So he went for smarmy levity in the face of her annoyance. "Well I can't handle you both at precisely the same time."
"Oh, shut up," Caprica mumbled, turning away from the both of them finally.
Three retorted, "How else do you explain it, Caprica? Why else would we have him between us like this, naked and-" she peered beneath the blankets-"Gaius, you're not…?"
"No. I typically use math to get my mind off sex."
"Oh," Three replied. "Anyway," she said to Caprica over his shoulder, "there is no other explanation. Gaius has to be here for a reason."
"I like Nine," Gaius said suddenly, as if he hadn't at all been involved in the conversation between the women. Really, he hadn't. He'd learned to tune them out quite efficiently.
"What?" Caprica said.
"I think I must be Nine."
"Oh, God," Caprica said, almost as exasperated as she'd ever been with Gaius, and that's saying a hell of a lot. "I try and I try to humor you two and your hopeless quest, but you're too much." She laughed, suddenly, derisive and mocking. "First it was prophecies and now it's math? And you're serious? So how do you know your mystical math doesn't entail long division or multiplication or complex algorithms derived from DNA? Why don't you go hold hands with the Hybrid again. Maybe she'll tell you it involved square roots or binary numbers."
"It's obviously not binaries, dear. Ones and zeroes?" he said, raising his eyebrows.
"And it's not long division," Three said.
Gaius added, "Certainly not. Dividing one-digit numbers doesn't make division particularly long."
Caprica took a deep breath and held it, then she suddenly burst out: "Two!"
They looked at her like she was crazy. She didn't put much stock in that judgment. Then again, they would know best…
"Two," she said, laughing, and she kept laughing until she nearly fell off the bed. "Six divided by Three is two. Or maybe you're One Half. Three divided by Six. I wish to God I knew what your number was, because the equation's obviously not Three plus Six or Three times Six, it's Three Baltar Six. Whatever the frak Baltaring does to a number besides make her completely insane and sexually frustrated."
Reflexively, Gaius spooned up behind Caprica, confused by this outburst and rather unhappy that she was unhappy. Let it not be said that Baltar has no sympathy for his infuriatingly infuriated and beautiful amazon.
"Darling," he said. "You might have told me."
"You might've been man enough to notice," she snapped, but she pressed herself back into him, closer. She mumbled, "Always going on and on about wanting to be special. You're special enough as it is. Haven't I already told you that?"
Gaius felt his heart swell a little at that. And maybe something else swelled, but then Three suddenly began to run her hands through his hair, gently, like she was absentmindedly doing it while thinking. That was never good.
After a moment, she said, "Eighteen."
"What?" Baltar replied.
"There are obviously eighteen Cylon models. Three times Six is eighteen."
Caprica turned over and gave Three a face that was half glare and half disbelief. But Gaius was torn, just then between fearing her and being intrigued by the implications of Three's theory. The possibilities! And for just the two of them to know!
Caprica saw the look on both their faces, and she shrieked and jumped out of the bed, dragging the blankets with her. "That's it! You're obviously both totally out of your minds. There are twelve Cylon models. That's what God tells me. He also tells me you're going about your math all wrong. If Gaius has a Cylon model number--if he's a Cylon-it must be…frak, let me figure it…"
She stared up at the ceiling, and Gaius was more in love than ever with her, seeing her commit herself so fully to his cause while doing math at the same time. It was hot.
(Now how was he going to lure her back to bed?)
Three and Would-be Nine waited earnestly to hear her calculations. Finally, she put her hands on her hips and pronounced: "If Three comes to Six by a factor of Baltar-which is, by the way, the only way this woman gets anywhere near me-then Baltar is Two. Which we know he's not. I think that's Cavil.
"Alternatively, if Three and Six come to twelve, to the final Cylon, by a factor of Baltar-which seems more likely, because, I’m sorry to say, I don't think you're a Cylon, darling-then Baltar is… Well, if we're taking us separately, he's either Four, which he's not, or Two, which we've already ruled out, too. So we'd have to come together to the final Cylon, and calculating the factor of Baltar, he must be One and One Third."
Gaius thought it over. He rather liked the sound of One and One Third. Grandiose. President One and One Third of the Twelve Colonies.
Hmm… Another Twelve.
"However," she said, jolting him out of his thoughts again. "If Baltar is the final Cylon, if he is Twelve, then I should be looking long and hard-" Her voice was rising. "-for a race of people smart enough to churn out skin jobs that are capable of working the number five into their calculations!"
"Five?" Gaius said. "Which one of you is Five?" He looked at Three with his most squirrelly expression ever.
"Doral," she said, trying not to laugh.
"Doral? Is she frakking a Doral?" He spun his head around to look at Caprica again. "Are you frakking a Doral?"
At that, Caprica threw her hands up in the air and stormed out. She had meant only that there were five Cylons remaining, and in their complicated mystical math, the two of them had completely ignored that number. Single-minded morons!
Gaius crossed his arms.
Three said, "What's wrong with the Dorals? They're not so bad."
Gaius nearly fell out of the bed. "Oh my Gods. I mean, God. Oh my holy Cylon God. You and a Doral…? I can't believe…"
"I was just his way to number Eight. That's all."
"Frak."
"It's just math, Gaius."
He sighed, soothed as always by matter of logic. "You're right. Just math. Do you think Doral could be important? Five plus the original seven is twelve, after all. Is that what she meant?"
"I think she meant go frak yourself." Three cozied up to him, trying to get as much of her breasts into his line of vision as possible. "Or me," she said with a seductive grin.
Gaius, however, was in no mood, Carpica's sexy math skills notwithstanding. Her anger gave him too many flashbacks of her less cuddly imaginary version.
Petulantly, he said, "I think I'd like to go see the Hybrid."
"Oh," Three said, disappointed for a moment before she realized that she really was only sleeping with Gaius because of the math. That and being sick of One, Two, Five, and Seven.
(Okay, maybe not Seven.)
Since she did enjoy a good trip to the Hybrid's pool, she said, "Okay."
After they put some clothes on, they ventured out into the hallway. Every Six they passed gave them faces, either snarls or leers.
Gaius was quiet for a long time, then he said, "Really, do you think she would let one of the Dorals put his hands on her?"
"No way," Three said. "He's short."
He scowled.
Grimacing, she added, "And unattractive. Besides, they're eleven. Together, I mean."
"He'd never make her truly happy, then." Orgasms, he was thinking. He was good at giving the woman orgasms.
But Three was still thinking spiritually. He rather admired that about her. She said, "Which is how I know you're a Three, deep down. You two were completely dysfunctional without me."
Gaius, however, thought they had been way more functional before they met Three. Perhaps he was a Six, after all, perfectly twelve with Caprica.
They passed a gaggle of naked Eights, and he wondered, absentmindedly, if it were possible she was the one to complete things, Eight plus Six plus him. Of course, to get to twelve, that would make him Negative Two, which sounded impossible…
Yet properly intimidating. President Negative Two. Multiplied by his other conjecture, he could be President Negative Two and Two Thirds, Hero of the Cylon.
He thought he would like to mind-meld to the Hybird about that possibility. He might give her a cerebral orgasm just from the possibility alone.
Gods, but life was complicated and wonderful on Baltar's Basestar.
Title: Cylon Math on Baltar's Basestar
Pairings: Caprica/Baltar/Three
Rating: PG-13, for talking about but no actual sex
Summary: Baltar finally employs good ol' 'rithmatic in his quest to find out who the Final Five are. Set during the Baseship days.
Note: I just kinda wrote this fast, so forgive it if it's got bumpy places. Tell me if I should post it to the comm.
Baltar woke up from a dream, startled and groggy, but he soon recalled where he was with the red lights and the feel of a body on either side of him. Despite the jarring way he awoke, Caprica slept like a rock. Or maybe like a toaster, he wasn't sure.
Three, however, did not sleep like a toaster. A blender. Maybe.
"Darling," she said, pulling his head onto her bosom. He was rather fond of bosoms; she wasn't stupid. "Did you see any glimpses of the final five?"
"No," he said dejectedly. "I think it was…" He cut himself off. No sense her hearing about his recurring dreams of Gaeta laid out over the console in the CIC.
Gaeta. He often wondered if the man had recovered from losing him as a mentor. There would be no one to guide him to higher brain function, not among those ungrateful troglodytes. What would Gaeta do if he were trying to discern who the final five Cylons were?
(You know, other than gaze longingly at him and call him Doctor. Not that Gaius minded either overly much.)
What would Gaeta-the old Gaeta, the mooning one, the one who didn't try to kill him on New Caprica-do?
Here Gaius had been all carried away with mystical visions and this admittedly flim flam sounding monotheism of theirs and the answer was staring him in the face.
Literally.
"Three," he said.
"Yes," she replied.
"No, I mean three. Me. Three."
"You're not making any sense."
"There are twelve Cylon models, and you and Caprica are Three and Six, and that's nine. Which means I'm three."
"I don't understand."
"Don't you see-this is why I'm here with the both of you, why I survived New Caprica to become your willing sex slave. You all are Three and Six and obviously I'm three, too, because that adds up to twelve."
"Hrumph," Six mumbled, coming out of a deep sleep. "Shut up, both of you. Nobody cares."
"We care," Gaius said. "You know we care. Both of us. Besides, it's two to three."
"No," Three answered, raising her eyebrows and smiling. "It's three and three to six."
"Did you say sex?" Caprica replied sleepily.
"She never does understand our puns," Gaius mumbled. "No, darling," he said to Caprica. "It's three and Three to Six. To Caprica. To you. What we were saying: if I'm the last Cylon model, I must be three. Because twelve minus three minus six is three."
Caprica said with a yawn, "That's assuming this is something more than just mildly kinky sex, Gaius, and I'm not ready to make that logical leap." At the mention of sex, she snuggled closer to him, but, unfortunately, very soon he was sitting up in the bed, running the numbers in his head.
"No no no," he muttered. "I'm right. Of course. I'm always right. We are here together for a reason, and it has to be in the numbers."
Three heartily agreed, but her brain was slower than Gaius's, so she was still pondering… Okay, mostly wondering how she might get Caprica out of the bed. Gaius couldn't divide his attention worth a damn, and the leggy blonde generally won in the popularity contest. Damn her and her easy orgasms and pornographic moaning.
"Wait a minute," Caprica said quite seriously. "You may be right. But if you're both Three, there's a huge problem with a resurrection bath somewhere." She dissolved into lazy, sleepy giggle.
Gaius and Three did not find her very amusing.
"Gaius," Three said. "Maybe the mystical connection doesn't involve all of us. Maybe it's just you and I that are important: twelve minus Three is nine."
Gaius couldn't help reflexively look back at Caprica, who was frowning something terrible. It was really rather adorable.
Caprica snapped, "Well, then, it could just as easily by twelve minus Six is six. It's actually more likely. After all, God tells us that we need LOVE to-"
"Six," Gaius said with a sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. "No no no. That puts us right back to you and I being the same Cylon model, darling, and I for one know I am eternally grateful you look so very different from me."
He had tried, really he had, but Caprica was having none of his innuendo and flattery. "Fine," she said.
"Fine," Three echoed, wanting to feel included.
Gaius said, "Maybe I'm the inconsequential one here. Maybe I'm just the catalyst. Three plus Six is nine."
"Oh, so we're back on the nine again!" Caprica said. "That's just great. No, really, I mean it. I'd just as soon you leave me out of this insanity anyway."
But Three was nodding to herself furiously. "Of course," she said. "Perhaps we're thinking about this all wrong. We were looking for the total number of models instead of a particular model. Maybe you're number Nine, Gaius."
"That still implies," Caprica sighed, "that who Gaius is and if he's one of the Final Five has anything whatsoever to do with the both of us being inexplicably charmed by his greasy long hair and pasty complexion at the same time."
Gaius choosing not to be offended by the insult. Caprica often said things she didn't mean when she was angry. So he went for smarmy levity in the face of her annoyance. "Well I can't handle you both at precisely the same time."
"Oh, shut up," Caprica mumbled, turning away from the both of them finally.
Three retorted, "How else do you explain it, Caprica? Why else would we have him between us like this, naked and-" she peered beneath the blankets-"Gaius, you're not…?"
"No. I typically use math to get my mind off sex."
"Oh," Three replied. "Anyway," she said to Caprica over his shoulder, "there is no other explanation. Gaius has to be here for a reason."
"I like Nine," Gaius said suddenly, as if he hadn't at all been involved in the conversation between the women. Really, he hadn't. He'd learned to tune them out quite efficiently.
"What?" Caprica said.
"I think I must be Nine."
"Oh, God," Caprica said, almost as exasperated as she'd ever been with Gaius, and that's saying a hell of a lot. "I try and I try to humor you two and your hopeless quest, but you're too much." She laughed, suddenly, derisive and mocking. "First it was prophecies and now it's math? And you're serious? So how do you know your mystical math doesn't entail long division or multiplication or complex algorithms derived from DNA? Why don't you go hold hands with the Hybrid again. Maybe she'll tell you it involved square roots or binary numbers."
"It's obviously not binaries, dear. Ones and zeroes?" he said, raising his eyebrows.
"And it's not long division," Three said.
Gaius added, "Certainly not. Dividing one-digit numbers doesn't make division particularly long."
Caprica took a deep breath and held it, then she suddenly burst out: "Two!"
They looked at her like she was crazy. She didn't put much stock in that judgment. Then again, they would know best…
"Two," she said, laughing, and she kept laughing until she nearly fell off the bed. "Six divided by Three is two. Or maybe you're One Half. Three divided by Six. I wish to God I knew what your number was, because the equation's obviously not Three plus Six or Three times Six, it's Three Baltar Six. Whatever the frak Baltaring does to a number besides make her completely insane and sexually frustrated."
Reflexively, Gaius spooned up behind Caprica, confused by this outburst and rather unhappy that she was unhappy. Let it not be said that Baltar has no sympathy for his infuriatingly infuriated and beautiful amazon.
"Darling," he said. "You might have told me."
"You might've been man enough to notice," she snapped, but she pressed herself back into him, closer. She mumbled, "Always going on and on about wanting to be special. You're special enough as it is. Haven't I already told you that?"
Gaius felt his heart swell a little at that. And maybe something else swelled, but then Three suddenly began to run her hands through his hair, gently, like she was absentmindedly doing it while thinking. That was never good.
After a moment, she said, "Eighteen."
"What?" Baltar replied.
"There are obviously eighteen Cylon models. Three times Six is eighteen."
Caprica turned over and gave Three a face that was half glare and half disbelief. But Gaius was torn, just then between fearing her and being intrigued by the implications of Three's theory. The possibilities! And for just the two of them to know!
Caprica saw the look on both their faces, and she shrieked and jumped out of the bed, dragging the blankets with her. "That's it! You're obviously both totally out of your minds. There are twelve Cylon models. That's what God tells me. He also tells me you're going about your math all wrong. If Gaius has a Cylon model number--if he's a Cylon-it must be…frak, let me figure it…"
She stared up at the ceiling, and Gaius was more in love than ever with her, seeing her commit herself so fully to his cause while doing math at the same time. It was hot.
(Now how was he going to lure her back to bed?)
Three and Would-be Nine waited earnestly to hear her calculations. Finally, she put her hands on her hips and pronounced: "If Three comes to Six by a factor of Baltar-which is, by the way, the only way this woman gets anywhere near me-then Baltar is Two. Which we know he's not. I think that's Cavil.
"Alternatively, if Three and Six come to twelve, to the final Cylon, by a factor of Baltar-which seems more likely, because, I’m sorry to say, I don't think you're a Cylon, darling-then Baltar is… Well, if we're taking us separately, he's either Four, which he's not, or Two, which we've already ruled out, too. So we'd have to come together to the final Cylon, and calculating the factor of Baltar, he must be One and One Third."
Gaius thought it over. He rather liked the sound of One and One Third. Grandiose. President One and One Third of the Twelve Colonies.
Hmm… Another Twelve.
"However," she said, jolting him out of his thoughts again. "If Baltar is the final Cylon, if he is Twelve, then I should be looking long and hard-" Her voice was rising. "-for a race of people smart enough to churn out skin jobs that are capable of working the number five into their calculations!"
"Five?" Gaius said. "Which one of you is Five?" He looked at Three with his most squirrelly expression ever.
"Doral," she said, trying not to laugh.
"Doral? Is she frakking a Doral?" He spun his head around to look at Caprica again. "Are you frakking a Doral?"
At that, Caprica threw her hands up in the air and stormed out. She had meant only that there were five Cylons remaining, and in their complicated mystical math, the two of them had completely ignored that number. Single-minded morons!
Gaius crossed his arms.
Three said, "What's wrong with the Dorals? They're not so bad."
Gaius nearly fell out of the bed. "Oh my Gods. I mean, God. Oh my holy Cylon God. You and a Doral…? I can't believe…"
"I was just his way to number Eight. That's all."
"Frak."
"It's just math, Gaius."
He sighed, soothed as always by matter of logic. "You're right. Just math. Do you think Doral could be important? Five plus the original seven is twelve, after all. Is that what she meant?"
"I think she meant go frak yourself." Three cozied up to him, trying to get as much of her breasts into his line of vision as possible. "Or me," she said with a seductive grin.
Gaius, however, was in no mood, Carpica's sexy math skills notwithstanding. Her anger gave him too many flashbacks of her less cuddly imaginary version.
Petulantly, he said, "I think I'd like to go see the Hybrid."
"Oh," Three said, disappointed for a moment before she realized that she really was only sleeping with Gaius because of the math. That and being sick of One, Two, Five, and Seven.
(Okay, maybe not Seven.)
Since she did enjoy a good trip to the Hybrid's pool, she said, "Okay."
After they put some clothes on, they ventured out into the hallway. Every Six they passed gave them faces, either snarls or leers.
Gaius was quiet for a long time, then he said, "Really, do you think she would let one of the Dorals put his hands on her?"
"No way," Three said. "He's short."
He scowled.
Grimacing, she added, "And unattractive. Besides, they're eleven. Together, I mean."
"He'd never make her truly happy, then." Orgasms, he was thinking. He was good at giving the woman orgasms.
But Three was still thinking spiritually. He rather admired that about her. She said, "Which is how I know you're a Three, deep down. You two were completely dysfunctional without me."
Gaius, however, thought they had been way more functional before they met Three. Perhaps he was a Six, after all, perfectly twelve with Caprica.
They passed a gaggle of naked Eights, and he wondered, absentmindedly, if it were possible she was the one to complete things, Eight plus Six plus him. Of course, to get to twelve, that would make him Negative Two, which sounded impossible…
Yet properly intimidating. President Negative Two. Multiplied by his other conjecture, he could be President Negative Two and Two Thirds, Hero of the Cylon.
He thought he would like to mind-meld to the Hybird about that possibility. He might give her a cerebral orgasm just from the possibility alone.
Gods, but life was complicated and wonderful on Baltar's Basestar.