|Darkness Challenge: Sleight of Wing by Voleuse
||[May. 28th, 2005|01:15 am]
Battlestar Galactica Flashfiction
Title: Sleight of Wing|
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Like a call to come in to the dark and lament.
Notes: Set after 1.07: "Six Degrees of Separation"
Afterwards, they roll onto their sides, and Helo kisses her lightly on the neck. She sighs into his hair, wraps an arm around his back, and settles against his chest.
The night deepens, and rain begins to patter lightly against the branches above them. From his even breathing, she guesses he's already drifted into a light doze, so she twists, grabs the other blanket from his pack and pulls it over their bodies.
She draws closer to his body, reveling in the warmth of it. Allows herself to stay awake, keep watch, even though she knows it isn't necessary.
The others won't bother them. Not tonight.
The stars don't shine as brightly as she remembers.
It's barely two hours before he wakes.
"You need sleep," he says, murmuring into her ear.
She rubs her cheek against his shoulder, feels his muscles tense. "I'm okay."
He wants to argue with her, but she turns her head, skims her lips against his skin.
He groans, low and longing, and she smiles at the sound.
It doesn't take more than a nudge to roll him onto his back, and she settles atop him comfortably, bracing her knees on either side of his hips.
"Sharon," he gasps, even as her hand snakes against him, "we should be careful--"
"They haven't found us yet," she interrupts. "I think we're safe, for now."
"That's not what I--"
She strokes him more firmly, cutting off his protest. Angles her body over him and sinks down, quick, quick, slow.
His body ripples. She licks the curve of his neck, leans in further to kiss him, finally, again.
He slides one of his hands up her neck, into her hair, and his other hand grasps her hip as he thrusts into her.
"Helo," she murmurs against his lips. "Helo."
She puts everything else out of her mind. There will be time enough for duty, but this moment belongs to them.
He insists that she sleep, goes so far as to dress again. She does as well, though it's partly to ward off the cool of the night rain.
Once clothed again, however, she returns to his side, tucks herself under his arm and wills her body to still. Slows her breathing until he relaxes, and she counts each exhalation, until it seems she might wake again.
When she stirs against him, Helo touches her face gently. "Hey. Go back to sleep."
"Can't." She shakes her head, presses her cheek against his hand. "Talk to me."
His smile cuts through the dark, and he laughs. "About what?"
"About anything." She turns her head, kisses his palm. "Whatever you want."
"Okay." He rolls onto his back, and she folds an arm against his chest, props her chin on her hand. "Where should I start?"
"From the beginning," she says.
So he starts with the day they met, which earns him a kiss. Tells her the story of how they trained together, how thrilled he was when they were both posted to the Galactica.
He talks until the sky begins to brighten, until his eyes begin to drift closed.
She watches him as he falls to sleep again, and part of her wishes he wouldn't.
The sun rises, and she presses her ear against his chest, listens to his heart beat.
Maybe this is what it means to be alive.
A/N: Title and summary adapted from Come In by Robert Frost. Link courtesy of breathe_poetry.