"Ninety-Nine Problems and a Bitch is One" - Adama/Roslin Drabble
Title: Ninety-Nine Problems and a Bitch is One
Pairing: Adama/Roslin, the Tighs
Rating: R
Word Count: 200 words
Disclaimer: Not my characters or television show.
A/N: Written for the 99th challenge at ar_drabbles, "problems." Thanks to redrockcan for her beta.
Bill regarded Ellen Tigh with forced calmness.
Inside he was raging.
Her foot was nudging its way up his son’s leg. He could feel the table shake subtly with each unsubtle movement from her. She had already consumed an entire bottle of alcohol, and was eyeing his quarters trying to discern where his stash was.
Her husband gave him a look that seemed to say: What the frak am I supposed to do? She’s my wife!
Roslin pursed her lips. He could tell by the look on her face that she was most certainly not amused by this woman’s behavior. She met his gaze and arched her eyebrow in a way that seemed to say: Why the frak did you invite this woman to dinner tonight?
He heard a squeal and saw Ellen tip over another glass of Ambrosia. The crisp linen on his table soaked up the vibrant green alcohol greedily. There was no way that he was ever going to get that stain out.
He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. Beside him he could see Roslin doing the same.
He had ninety-nine problems, but thank the Gods that a woman wasn’t one of them.
Pairing: Adama/Roslin, the Tighs
Rating: R
Word Count: 200 words
Disclaimer: Not my characters or television show.
A/N: Written for the 99th challenge at ar_drabbles, "problems." Thanks to redrockcan for her beta.
Bill regarded Ellen Tigh with forced calmness.
Inside he was raging.
Her foot was nudging its way up his son’s leg. He could feel the table shake subtly with each unsubtle movement from her. She had already consumed an entire bottle of alcohol, and was eyeing his quarters trying to discern where his stash was.
Her husband gave him a look that seemed to say: What the frak am I supposed to do? She’s my wife!
Roslin pursed her lips. He could tell by the look on her face that she was most certainly not amused by this woman’s behavior. She met his gaze and arched her eyebrow in a way that seemed to say: Why the frak did you invite this woman to dinner tonight?
He heard a squeal and saw Ellen tip over another glass of Ambrosia. The crisp linen on his table soaked up the vibrant green alcohol greedily. There was no way that he was ever going to get that stain out.
He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. Beside him he could see Roslin doing the same.
He had ninety-nine problems, but thank the Gods that a woman wasn’t one of them.