Serve me up your flood in a bowl
for ar_drabbles challenge 26, prompt by bugsfic : "You cannot fold a flood and put it in a drawer"
They touched each other obsessively, because they could and because they had to. His hand rubbed circles on her lower back and hers traced a path from his shoulder to elbow. There had been sex and it had been awkward, uncomfortable, and ultimately irrelevant, nothing worse than they'd expected given age, illness, and the stress of putting down a coup. But they'd survived and were together; they could and would talk through the night.
"Gaius Baltar?" Bill asked.
"Has a finely honed sense of self-preservation. Even through his delusions he knew Zarek wouldn't tolerate a separate power base. Siding with us was in Baltar's best interest."
"I understand why he sided with you. But why'd you go to him?"
"He had a transmitter."
"Laura -- " Now was no time for half-truths, not here, in the dark, having survived once again.
"Pythia talks about the flood that wiped out most of humanity. Baltar thinks he's that flood, blameless, a force of nature. He forgot it's humanity's job to harness forces of nature to serve us. The arrogant are the easiest to manipulate."
Bill pulled her closer. "You politician."
"The art of the possible, the art of the next best."
He pushed away from her and she followed his body, trapping him against the wall.
"Am I next best, too?" Bill asked.
"What do you think?" She had that exasperated teacher look about her.
He thought about floods, about how Baltar's actions had ultimately led them to where they were now, about how Laura's cancer was never really cured, just temporary abated, about how his love for her was a rushing roar that had to be focused and channeled lest it overflow them both. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. "I think you're no politician in bed."
They touched each other obsessively, because they could and because they had to. His hand rubbed circles on her lower back and hers traced a path from his shoulder to elbow. There had been sex and it had been awkward, uncomfortable, and ultimately irrelevant, nothing worse than they'd expected given age, illness, and the stress of putting down a coup. But they'd survived and were together; they could and would talk through the night.
"Gaius Baltar?" Bill asked.
"Has a finely honed sense of self-preservation. Even through his delusions he knew Zarek wouldn't tolerate a separate power base. Siding with us was in Baltar's best interest."
"I understand why he sided with you. But why'd you go to him?"
"He had a transmitter."
"Laura -- " Now was no time for half-truths, not here, in the dark, having survived once again.
"Pythia talks about the flood that wiped out most of humanity. Baltar thinks he's that flood, blameless, a force of nature. He forgot it's humanity's job to harness forces of nature to serve us. The arrogant are the easiest to manipulate."
Bill pulled her closer. "You politician."
"The art of the possible, the art of the next best."
He pushed away from her and she followed his body, trapping him against the wall.
"Am I next best, too?" Bill asked.
"What do you think?" She had that exasperated teacher look about her.
He thought about floods, about how Baltar's actions had ultimately led them to where they were now, about how Laura's cancer was never really cured, just temporary abated, about how his love for her was a rushing roar that had to be focused and channeled lest it overflow them both. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. "I think you're no politician in bed."