Irony (BSG/Last Night crossover)
Title: Irony
Pairing: Kara Thrace/Craig Zwiller
Rating: PG-13
Setting: post-Maelstrom AU, during the events of Last Night
Length: 763 words
Warnings: dubious consent
written for: the c6d_universe "technology" challenge
Notes: This fic made possible by the shrewd beta skills of akamine_chan and hanarobi
Kara Thrace hadn’t ever given much thought to the concept of irony. Her literature instructors had talked about it at length when she was in school, but Kara had never been one much for fruity metaphors, florid diction and literary devices. To her, it wasn’t ironic that the technology that humanity had built to make life easier had turned against them. That was just mass murder, plain and simple. It wasn’t ironic that, as Leoben had once said, she had been born to a woman who believed that pain was good for her, because all that pain, whether from Socrata Thrace or anything else, hadn’t really made her stronger after all.
These days Kara’s rethinking the whole irony thing. There’s no other word to describe this: how she somehow found Earth only to discover that its sun was going to destroy the entire planet, that the descendants of the 13th tribe of Kobol haven’t advanced enough in technology so that she could even hope to repair her Viper.
Not that she would want to find Galactica again only to tell them that there was no hope of finding a new home. Gods, that would be a classic Starbuck frak-up, to make it all the way back home only to tell them that it was no use.
********
He was saying something to her. She blinked and shook her head slightly.
“Do you want to come up to my apartment? I have drinks, and, you know, other stuff.” He smiled. It was inviting, seductive.
It slowly occurred to her that it wasn’t Leoben. Confusion wasn’t exactly uncalled for, in spite of the fact that he wasn‘t babbling about swimming in the stream. He had the same features, if altered somewhat, in ways that Kara couldn’t define, along with a look in his eyes that, although different, carried that same kind of intensity.
And he had a frakking ugly shirt on.
She’d been paralyzed at the sight of him, memories of his hand around her throat, memories of stabbing him, kissing him, thoughts of him showing up uninvited in her dreams. But this wasn’t him. Really, she could probably take him down and be out of there.
Instead, she raised an eyebrow. “You wanna go fuck?”
He smiled back at her. “Yeah, I do.”
********
“Do you want a drink?”
Kara’s eyes swept the apartment. She willed her hands to stop shaking. This was just a guy, just a frak. “Anything strong,” she answered.
She felt the burn of the whiskey go down and finally looked at him. He seemed hesitant, nervous.
“Look, I, um…there’s some things I wanted to try. They might seem a little weird. We don’t have to do them, though. Or, you know, if there’s anything you wanted to try-”
“Like what?” It was easier now, to address him, the clearer it was that he wasn’t Leoben.
“Well, I was interested in, you know, coercion. Within limits.” He added quickly.
“Coerce me? Within limits? How? The world’s ended-ending.” She quickly corrected herself.
He shrugged, but looked at her steadily. “I don’t know. I’ve never tied a girl up before.”
She smiled, slightly. All those dreams with Leoben in them. Now she could admit to herself, sick as it seemed, that they were always good, until she woke up. In a couple of weeks she wouldn’t be waking up at all. Why not? This wasn’t him. This was just a guy, just a frak.
“You can do whatever you want,” she told him.
He grinned. “Really? That’s great. I’ve got some ties-neckties, I mean.” He paused. “You’re not a virgin, are you.?”
“Ah, no.”
“Good, that’s good.” He turned to retrieve the neckties, then paused, turning back to her. “I thought, down there in the bar, that you looked pretty tough, like you could handle it. I mean, you’re beautiful, too…”
Kara rolled her eyes. He took it as a hint and went to retrieve the ties.
She let him tie her up, binding her hands behind her back. She let him be rough with her, shoving her clothes aside. Even then there was a gentleness to him, as if he couldn’t fully escape into the fantasy, just as none of them could ignore the pulsating sun, the minutes ticking away.
She climaxed and he followed, and she couldn’t help but think, as she closed her eyes, that this was familiar, like flying straight into her own death.
When it was over though, she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. This wasn’t him. This was just a guy, just a frak.