Love and a continual farewell
for ar_drabbles challenge #11, Bill's Tauron heritage.
Sort of a sequel to my A Prayer Before Dying.
Zarek was dead. Gaeta, too. But Bill was alive, right next to her, skin touching hers everywhere.
"I heard you. When I was headed to retake CIC."
"Lords of Kobol, lean low and hear my voice…"
Bill ran a hand along her side. "That service -- it's not for me."
"I don't even know what you'd want."
"If I'm dead, it doesn't matter."
"When I go, if you don't want to do a service like Cally's, it's all right. If you'd rather pay my passage."
"With everything you've done and given, I think you've paid your own passage by now."
"When I die, you'll have to let me go."
"You didn't let me go today," he pointed out.
"You weren't dead." Her hand traced a line from his shoulder, down his scar to his hip. "You're not dead."
"Neither are you."
Her hand moved lower to stroke the length of him, reveling in the newly-won right to feel him come alive beneath her touch.
"Would you really have fired on Galactica?" he asked.
"If Zarek wouldn't stand down, yes. Absolutely. If it were Galactica or the fleet--"
"Sure you're not Tauron?"
"I think the Tauron reputation for toughness is just public relations."
"I'll have you know Tauron children play jacks with the finger bones of children who've lost."
Laura's hand stilled, fluttering in mid-air. "You're kidding."
Bill brought her hand to rest on his hip. "Well…"
"Like I said." Her fingertips whispered over Bill's tattoo. "When I die, will you have this sealed?"
"A proper send-off for a proper Tauron wife?"
"I'm not your wife."
"Your choice."
"Then yes, I'd like that."
"The tattoo? Or--?"
"Or."
"You don't believe in marriage."
"And you don't believe in death. We've got to accept one, maybe we should accept both."
"Maybe we should."
Sort of a sequel to my A Prayer Before Dying.
Zarek was dead. Gaeta, too. But Bill was alive, right next to her, skin touching hers everywhere.
"I heard you. When I was headed to retake CIC."
"Lords of Kobol, lean low and hear my voice…"
Bill ran a hand along her side. "That service -- it's not for me."
"I don't even know what you'd want."
"If I'm dead, it doesn't matter."
"When I go, if you don't want to do a service like Cally's, it's all right. If you'd rather pay my passage."
"With everything you've done and given, I think you've paid your own passage by now."
"When I die, you'll have to let me go."
"You didn't let me go today," he pointed out.
"You weren't dead." Her hand traced a line from his shoulder, down his scar to his hip. "You're not dead."
"Neither are you."
Her hand moved lower to stroke the length of him, reveling in the newly-won right to feel him come alive beneath her touch.
"Would you really have fired on Galactica?" he asked.
"If Zarek wouldn't stand down, yes. Absolutely. If it were Galactica or the fleet--"
"Sure you're not Tauron?"
"I think the Tauron reputation for toughness is just public relations."
"I'll have you know Tauron children play jacks with the finger bones of children who've lost."
Laura's hand stilled, fluttering in mid-air. "You're kidding."
Bill brought her hand to rest on his hip. "Well…"
"Like I said." Her fingertips whispered over Bill's tattoo. "When I die, will you have this sealed?"
"A proper send-off for a proper Tauron wife?"
"I'm not your wife."
"Your choice."
"Then yes, I'd like that."
"The tattoo? Or--?"
"Or."
"You don't believe in marriage."
"And you don't believe in death. We've got to accept one, maybe we should accept both."
"Maybe we should."