Those things we deem essential.

IT IS FUCKING FRIDAY BICTHES!!!!!

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 06:07:56 GMT

BSG DAY! AND THEY ARE STREAMING IT LIVE ALL. FUCKING. DAY. ILU SKIFFY.

SO. ARE YOU EXCITED? WHOSE EXCITED?

I'LL HAVE ADAMA'S DIARY UP LATER - BECAUSE THERE IS SOMETHING MORE IMPORTANT. FOR SRS. GUYS - ALL OF MY FIC AND PICSPAM AND WHATNOT WILL NOW BE POSTED AT fandom_bitches

fandom_bitches   fandom_bitches   fandom_bitches   fandom_bitches   fandom_bitches   fandom_bitches   fandom_bitches   fandom_bitches   fandom_bitches   fandom_bitches   fandom_bitches   fandom_bitches   fandom_bitches

SO. IF YOU FRIENDED MY JOURNAL FOR FIC - GET YOUR ASS OVER THERE AND JOIN. IT'S ALSO alias424  AND babylon_whore 's COMM TOO. COME JOIN US. WE HAVE MAGICAL POOOOORRRRRRNNNNNNNN.

NOW. BSG. PLEASE TO BE WITH THE FLAILING NOW, YES?

ETA: AND NOW I BRING YOU ADAMA'S DIARY! WHOOO!

MONDAY: L still not back yet. Zarek keeps calling – wants to declare himself frakking President. I’ll President his ass right out of the nearest airlock. The Six died on the table – Sharon frakked us over but good – she’s in the brig for now.

I can’t think without her.

TUESDAY: Put the Fleet on close formation today – we don’t have the pilots. The Hub frakking jumped – I have to find it. Have to find her with it. Told Tigh to ask the Six in the brig – hopefully all his bonding sessions will make her give us something, anything.

WEDNESDAY: Her Raptor jumped back – the book was on it. ~~Almost lost it~~ – we jumped away to its last known coordinates. It was a frakking war zone – Tigh thinks her base ship was destroyed – but he’s wrong. I know. I would know. Jumped back to the Fleet and left four Raptors to search. They won’t find her there. I know.

THURSDAY: Talked to Cottle today. We need to get her back soon. Tigh, the frakking moron, has been banging the Six in the brig. Got her frakking pregnant the frakking moron. We beat the shit outta each other – he called Laura just a frakking woman – I wanted to rip his other frakking eye out. And he broke my ship. Frakking thing – I’m running out of glue. It hurts. Without her here.

FRIDAY: That lawyer came to see me today. He’s a strange one – smells funny – but he made me see I’m too close to this. Too close to her. I can’t lever her behind – but I can’t make the Fleet stay either – she wouldn’t want that. I’m too close. What would happen if I met her and I wasn’t the Admiral? Guess I’m gonna find out.

SATURDAY: I left Tigh and Lee in charge – I know they won’t frak up – they both know if they screw this up, she’ll airlock their asses when I bring her home. It’s quiet out here. Waiting. Good thing I have a good book.

SUNDAY: Still no sign of her – but I dreamt of her last night. She was laughing – laughing when I hugged her. When I woke up, I swore I could smell her perfume – she’ll be here soon.

I'll Bleed My Heart Out To Show

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 05:58:21 GMT

Title: I'll Bleed My Heart Out To Show
Author: gidget_zb
Beta: alias424
Pairing:Adama/Roslin
Rating: NC 17 or MA
Warnings: Spoilers for 4x09 'The Hub' - graphic sex.
Summary: Post-ep for 4x09 'The Hub'. Raptor!Reunion!Sexings! with a side of flail.

A/N: So many, many, many thanks as usual to alias424 for being the best beta in all the Thirteen Colonies. She rocks, guys. SRSLY. Also, thanks to babylon_whore for continuously poking me for the post-ep smut, and crazyvictoria for posting the scene of awesome and giving me a stroke of inspiration. I thought this story was going to be, um, ENTIRELY different than it ended up being. But it ended up being 3,000 words of smut, so who am I to complain? You all can thank Laura and her inability to stop touching Bill, lol. BUT CAN WE BLAME HER REALLY? Review, because the smut is scarce and you've all been SALIVATING for it. So SHOW ME THE LOVE.

I'll Bleed My Heart Out To Show

“Oh my Gods!” Laura pulled back from Bill’s embrace, her hands shaking and twitching as he stared down at her in amusement.

“What?” His chuckle was warm, washing over her pleasantly as she let out a small giggle.

“I have no idea. I just – can’t seem to stop shaking.” Her smile grew into a grin as she frowned down at her hands, both still trembling. “I – ”

“Are you alright? Have you been feeling okay?” All at once he was the picture of concern, pulling back slightly and taking both her hands in his, rubbing them as he stared at her with worry written across his face. “Come on, maybe you need to sit down.”

She was being pulled up onto the wing of the Raptor before she knew it, his hands still grasping hers as he sat her on the small bench-seat in the back. He moved away then – closing the Raptor door behind him, and she felt an odd sensation bubbling up from within her – she had the strangest grin on her face and she couldn’t seem to stop moving her hands in various directions. “I’m okay,” she protested as she observed her own reactions with a slight frown. “At least, I think I’m okay. I feel a bit – odd.”

“Odd how – are you weak? Does anything hurt?” Bill was in front of her in a heartbeat, his eyes tracking across her face as he seemed to reassure himself she was, in fact, wholly in one piece.

“I just – Gods, Bill.” A smile broke out again, and she finally managed to stop her trembling long enough to reach out, holding his face in her hands. It had been a revelation – saying those words out loud – hearing herself say them out loud. She had told her mother she loved her, right before she died. But that was the last time those words had passed her lips. Her eyes met his and the way he looked at her almost hurt her – a sweet ache that erupted in her chest and rose to the back of her throat. She was barely able to stop the sound in time – and a small choked squeak erupted from her as her hands began trembling again. She averted her eyes in an effort to retain some control over herself.

“Laura – look at me.” His voice was low in her ear and she flushed at the sound – shaking her head fiercely as her traitorous hands softly stroked the skin below his jaw.

“I can’t. Bill I can’t – every time I do I get the oddest feeling. Like I’m about to – I can’t.” Her fingers continued their exploration though – even as she put her verbal protest out there for him to hear. Her mouth said she couldn’t – but her hands – her uncontrollable hands traced over his cheeks, along his nose, over his lips – where he gently kissed each tip, and she squeaked again – a bit higher and louder this time. She shook from the restraint – this was not her. She did not do this – but her shaking had slowly morphed into a slight bounce as she sat in front of him.

“About to what?”

Her hands had moved on, tracing down the powerful muscles in his neck until they hit the edge of the flight suit, where they paused – perplexed by the sudden roadblock. A problem easily solved, apparently – as they reached out, grasping the cold metal of the zipper and tugged it gently down. Once more skin was exposed, her hands happily returned to their previous position – finishing their exploration of his neck before dragging languorously along his collarbone, moving over the soft cotton of his tanks as she watched in fascination.

“Laura.” His voice was lower this time – more guttural – and she shivered in response as the feeling welled again.

“Pardon?” Her own voice was a dry whisper, and he frowned, clearly confused by her behaviour. He wasn’t the only one, and as she met his eyes again, she felt the same excitement rise in her as her disobedient hands slipped under his flight suit to explore the hard planes of his chest juxtaposed against the worn softness of the shirt over it. She could feel his heartbeat – and was shocked to feel it race against her fingertips, even though her own beat along in the same sharp, jerky rhythm.

“Laura.” He repeated the whisper and she met his eyes, her hands – seemingly so small compared to the expanse of his chest – stilling over his heart. She would probably need both hands just to fit around it – and she was somehow reassured by the thought. It calmed her somewhat – his heart in her hands – and she smiled as she gazed down at him.

“I love you,” she announced the words again – softer, calmer this time as the trembling seemed to ease and she found a sense of calm somewhere in his eyes. A grin flitted across her face as she laughed for a moment. “I can’t seem to stop thinking it. Or saying it, apparently.”

His hand reached up, fingers sliding under her jaw line slowly, and she shivered as he rose up – moving closer as his hand slid beneath her hair, one finger tracing behind her ear as she shivered in response. Dear Gods the man hadn’t even kissed her yet, and she was already excited beyond reason. She felt her legs tremble beneath her – her body shaking as he inched closer and closer. She watched him every moment. There would be no closing her eyes this time. This time, she wanted to memorize every second of the moment – every subtle change in his eyes, the sweep of lashes against his skin, the feel of his breath across her cheek – she wanted to imprint every detail, burn it into her memory. She never ever wanted to forget this.

Her heart was beating almost painfully against her chest – its rapid thuds a counterpoint to her shallow breaths. She couldn’t seem to remember how to do this properly – how to breathe, or exist outside of this moment. She had waited forever – her hands splayed over his own thundering heart as she leaned forward the few extra millimetres, closing the distance between them as her mouth met his. His kiss was soft, she remembered that. It was gentle too – she was familiar with that as well. But that’s where the similarities ended, because last time the feel of his mouth over hers had been brief and poignant, whereas this time her hands twisted in the cotton of his shirt as the feeling of him against her vibrated through her – a hum that burst through her chest and down, down, down to her very center where the force of it seem to localize. She pulled him closer – impossible as it was – and this time she demanded more. Her mouth opened over his, and her tongue willingly sought his out – the taste of him, rich and flavourful, strong and powerful as it washed over her tongue. She hummed in response, a moan that transferred from her mouth to his – because though she started the sound, he finished it. His arms rose, wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her forward until she slipped off the bench into his lap, and it still didn’t feel close enough.

The edges of her vision were beginning to darken, but his hands felt so good – running up and down her back until they slipped under the untucked tails of her blouse. The feel of his hands on her skin caused her to gasp – pull away, and draw a much needed breath. His palms weren’t soft – they felt rough, sandpapery – hands hardened by years of work that traced the skin on the small of her back so delicately she felt every stroke in her very soul. This was unprecedented territory – and suddenly she felt an exponential need to explore it. To feel those hands on her shoulders, her breasts – oh Gods, her breasts – down her stomach, over her legs, on her. She wanted to feel him everywhere all at once. All over her, covering every inch – she wanted him to mark her. This was where they belonged. This was where she belonged.

Her movements reflected this new urgency – shaking as she pulled the zipper down as far as she could reach – unsteady when she pushed the suit off his shoulders and down his arms. He did the rest – pulling his hands free as she pulled on the tanks underneath, skimming them up and over his head. When he was bared to the waist, she paused – taking a breath, feeling a small moment of awe at the sight. She had pictured this – she had, so many times, if she were being honest. But the reality was so much better than all the fantasies combined. She didn’t bother with her own buttons, yanking her own blouse over her head and tossing it on the bench behind them with impatience.

She shifted on his lap, moving her legs to either side of his hips for comfort’s sake – and his face pressed into her neck as he groaned at the contact. She could feel him underneath her – and the movement made her sigh with a deep happiness. She pressed her hips forward again and his hands shot to her hips, pulling her down, pressing her against him and holding her still there. “Laura.” He said her name like a curse – a groan that turned into a prayer as she leaned forward that extra inch and pressed their bodies together, his skin against hers from hip to shoulder. Unsurprisingly, she fit there like she had been made for it.

“Bill,” she responded, her voice teasing as her hands ran down along his back and her hips undulated slowly. Her breathing was speeding up again – and she was too old for this, but she didn’t really give a frak. His skin was hot on hers – warming her from the outside in – and his moans as he pressed his face into her shoulder were so very vulnerable that her heart seemed to burst from a wealth of emotion. She held such power over him in this moment – such absolute power, and all she wanted to do was protect and care for him until she was literally unable to do so any longer. Her mouth pressed into the back of his neck – her tongue sliding along his hairline, tasting the sweat there and feeling it intoxicate her far more than any drink or drug ever could. Her face was still damp and she could taste her own tears – her hands slid down his arms, feeling the light dusting of hair there tickle against her palms as she smiled against the skin below his ear.

She reached behind them, her hips still rocking as much as she could against his iron grip, and unclasped her bra, letting it fall away – his skin so, so warm against her aching breasts. He shifted, inching back just enough to get his hands between them, his fingers running reverently over her breasts, brushing against the nipples as she gasped slightly. His grin was unexpected, and he looked up at her – she met his smile with her own. They stilled for a moment, her straddling his lap and his hand cradling her breasts as they simply beamed at each other – until his chuckle broke across the moment, galvanizing them back into motion.

His head became buried in her chest – his mouth dragging along the sensitive skin as her fingers reached into his hair, fisting there as her head fell back and she moaned softly. A lifetime passed – a haze of pleasure and sensation that seemingly lasted forever before his mouth trailed kisses across her breastbone and up the column of her throat until his hands pulled her mouth to his again.

She kissed him voraciously, rough – her teeth scraping along his lower lip almost viciously before her tongue soothed the spot a moment later. She felt feral – and she wanted to devour him. With that in mind, she pulled away, climbing off his lap despite his protests and shoving him gently back until he was stretched on the floor. She removed her pants and underwear quickly, standing above him – pausing for a moment, and allowing him to look, to memorize the details as she smiled. “Pants. Off. Now.” The words were orders – not requests – and he grinned for a moment before frowning slightly.

“Laura – I hate to– ”

She was already kneeling by him and removing the damn things herself, only to be faced with an obstacle in the form of his boots. She frowned at them for a moment before shrugging and peeling the suit as far down as she could and shifting back up to meet his eyes. “Then don’t,” she said simply. “Don’t tell me this is a bad plan, because I’m aware that it’s a bad plan. We’re on the floor of a frakking Raptor in the middle of a frakking basestar surrounded by Cylons. Bill.” She paused for a breath, and he pushed her back gently, sitting up as she met his eyes fearfully. “There’s no battlestar – no Vipers, no anything – and now is all we can assume we have. And if now is all we have – I don’t care if I have to frak you in a Raptor in a Cylon airlock – ”

He kicked his boots free, removing the rest of his clothing as she spoke, sitting at his side, her voice and hands shaking. When he lay back, he pulled her against him until she was covering him, shoulders to toes. “It’s really all about the airlock, isn’t it?” His voice rumbled through her and she let out a sudden laugh – the sound echoing off the metal walls around them.

“It really is.” She muffled a giggle as she pressed her face into his neck, willing the tears to go away so she could just enjoy the moment.

“I suppose any pilot would have done?” His hands were moving now, tracing along her back and hips, over her backside, and she shivered as her laughter died.

“No, not any pilot.” She pulled back far enough to look down at him, one of his hands moving to trace along her cheek, pausing briefly to finger the strands of hair that wasn’t hers. Her mood darkened, and he pressed a soft kiss to her mouth.

“Don’t. You couldn’t be more beautiful right now.” Her eyes filled with tears again, and she pressed her forehead against his as she fought to breathe.

She shifted slightly, feeling him twitch below her at the friction, and she smiled suddenly, shifting again until she sat astride him, his hard length pressed against her as her body was flooded with a rush of heat, singing in her veins until it pooled between them, hot and sticky. She didn’t care, she thought idly as she moved herself against his length – imitating the act that was sure to follow. His hands gripped her hips again – the same biting strength, and she would probably bruise – but it was a brand – proof of her love for him, and his for –

“Bill.” She stilled, and he groaned in frustration, his eyes meeting hers. She leaned over him, her breasts swaying as her hips lifted up and her face moved closer to his. “You didn’t say it back.” She spoke in a serious tone, and he froze – looking up at her incredulously.

“If you don’t know by now – ”

“Reassure me,” she breathed against his cheek, and he turned his face to hers, his mouth meeting hers in a slow, languid kiss. She returned the sentiment – and when his hands spanned her waist she let out a squeak of surprise – the air rushing out of her lungs as he pulled her down, sheathing himself in her without hesitation. She paused, absolutely still as she felt him so deep within her – she almost didn’t want to move. She wanted to stay like this – him filling her, as close as he could possibly be –

“I love you more than life itself.” His words were quiet – his voice deep as he stared intently into her eyes. She had never – never in her entire life – felt this intimately attached to a man. He allowed her no room to pull back, no room to manoeuvre – just him – love plain on his face – in his eyes – filling her from inside and out – wrapping around her until she was sure when this moment was over her would take a piece of her soul with him. Her heart inexplicably slowed – its frantic pace easing down as she breathed with him – consciously timing her own intakes of air with his.

And then he moved – surged upward that extra inch more, and she felt the sharp wave of pleasure – almost pain, but not quite – an edge of anticipation filling her as she rose and he fell, and they moved to meet again. It was flawless – like they had been practised for years – there was no uneven pacing, no awkward movements, just his hand on the back of her neck and one resting on her hip, and his eyes refusing to look away from hers as he rose again and again until she felt herself implode – her entire being shaking – she was sure her skin trembled along with everything inside her. And still he didn’t stop moving or stop staring at her as he forced her to ride the wave of sensation instead of allowing it to break over her. There was no pause – no time – no anything but them, and she remarkably felt the edges of her vision color again – reds and greens and blues – such blues as he pressed her forehead to his and panted out her name like a mantra.

Afterward, when she could remember how to breathe without weeping, she lay gently against him – feeling the tears rise and spill out. She wasn’t crying though – not really – it was just as though he had filled her past the point of full. She overflowed with the feeling, and she felt his lips against her temple, pressing small kisses there as his hands soothed her back. A moment passed, and then two, and finally she shifted and lay her head against his shoulder as she smiled up at him.

A giggle bubbled from within and he smiled, looking down at her with affectionate exasperation. “What?”

“Well, I don’t know if I believe you.” Her laughter shook her frame and she felt his sigh as she grinned. “You may have to show me again.”

The Price of Supremacy 4/12

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 06:57:39 GMT

Title:The Price of Supremacy
Series: Outside the Garden
Author: gidget_zb
Beta: alias424
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: NC 17
Chapter: 4/12
Warnings: Spoilers for the miniseries.
Summary: At times, he wondered if the universe enjoyed practising its cosmic balancing act with his life. One son dies, and he gains a daughter – one son lost to him, to be replaced by a wife. It seemed he was destined to never have everything at once .
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: Lol, OMG guys - could this week BE any better, fandom wise? I AM STILL SQUEEING. Like, every day I re-watch THE scene, in order to attempt a go at the Rapotor!Reunion!sexings that SO HAPPENED right after the cut and fade to black, lol, and everytime I hear Laura's little gasped out words, IT KILLS ME DED and I cannot even CONTEMPLATE adding on to the awesome. I'm gonna try again today though. GODS. Are there drugs for this? WE NEED HELP I THINK. Anywho - enjoy this chapter - the next one is actually my fav, I think - because I made alias424 cry - which is no small feat lol. So yay - angst next week! Whoot!

Survival

She stared out the window at the Viper that flew alongside them at a steady pace. They had not had an escort in, and Lee’s presence here was a personal request of Bill’s, she knew. She wondered if Lee was even aware of what his father had entrusted him with – if he even knew she was on board.

She couldn’t die. The thought was clamouring in her head as she stared past Billy, her eyes fastened on the dark expanse of space around them. She couldn’t leave. It couldn’t be – Billy was leaning over the armrest, telling her something about her schedule for the next day when she felt a stab of pain so fierce it took her breath away. She sat straight up, ignoring Billy as she stood, muttering an excuse as she fled to the washroom. Once there, she slid the lock shut with more force than necessary, leaning against the door and struggling to breathe.

She was dying.

Right this second, right this very moment, her own body was failing her, her own body that had earlier been –

And yet it was still there. Curled up inside her like some insidious, vile thing, waiting patiently for her to die. Gods. How could this have happened to her? How could this be her life? She caught her reflection in the mirror as she choked down a sob. She looked like crap – and how Bill hadn’t noticed... but he would notice eventually. He would know. And she would alternate between praying that the cancer hurry up, and wishing it would disappear. She pressed a hand to her breast, her fingers digging in so deep it hurt, until she could feel it underneath there. When her fingers found it – the foreign mass she had been avoiding for weeks, months – her sobs shuddered through her, her eyes burning as she fought back tears.

Right this second, right this minute – any could be her last. Her last breath, her last laugh, or smile. The last time she felt his hands in her hair or heard his voice in her ear. The last time her heart beat with his. She was dying.

Not today though. Not this second, and not even this minute, she scolded herself as she turned to the sink and ran the water as cold as she could. It stung her wrists as she held them under the stream before pressing them to the back of her neck. The seatbelt sign blinked above her head, and she ignored it in favour of lecturing herself.

She couldn’t afford to waste time mourning her own death. She’d have plenty of time for that after – if there was an after, and Gods, she hoped there was. She didn’t know how long she stood there, mentally chastising herself as she stared at her reflection, but she felt some modicum of her normal control return before she slid the lock open gently, moving out of the room and back toward her seat. She had to skirt around the captain of the ship, who was addressing the passengers stoically.

“...that’s all we know for sure. We appreciate your patience. Thank you.”

Laura looked at Billy as she stood in front of their seats, his face was white as a sheet and his eyes were glazed over as he stared at the Captain. “What’s going on?” she whispered, and he jumped at her voice as he looked at her.

“I’m not sure.” His voice was shaky, and she frowned, glancing down the aisle after the Captain. She glanced out the window again, somewhat reassured by the sight of the Viper’s nose creeping into her view. A heavy ache filled her chest again as she stared uneasily at Billy, who blinked back. “They said communications have been jammed. They’re having trouble getting a reading. That’s bad, right?”

“Captain Apollo is still out there, Billy – I’m sure it’s just a malfunction,” she reassured the nervous young man beside her, patting his arm gently as she watched the Viper speed up slightly, moving out of her field of vision. Try as she might to reassure Billy, the odd ache wouldn’t seem to leave her chest, and she couldn’t seem to attribute it to the cancer alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Action stations, action stations. Set condition one throughout the ship. This is not a drill. Repeat: this is not a drill.”

They looked terrified. Pale faces highlighted by a sheen of nervous sweat as they fumbled through their tasks, shooting glances at each other in search of an answer. They wouldn’t find it. He knew that, as he scanned casualty report after casualty report, his stomach dropping further with each statistic.

None of them – hardly any of them, he amended – had been in an actual combat situation before. Training for something and surviving it were two entirely different things. They needed to be commanded until their own survival instinct kicked in and took over after the initial shock.

“What’ve we got? Shipping accident?” Tigh was reaching with the question, they both knew. A decommissioned ship wouldn’t be on alert for a shipping accident. Bill handed him the sheaf of papers without a word, and Tigh took them reluctantly, his eyes widening as he read page after page.

“Condition one is set, all decks report ready for action, sir.” Gaeta stood nervously as he reported to Bill, and Bill nodded in acknowledgment.

“They can’t be serious. This is a joke. Fleet’s playing a retirement joke on you – c’mon....” Tigh looked at him in disbelief, and Bill stared back for a moment, his face set in stone. Denial, disbelief. It would only take a moment for the adrenaline to kick in, fuel for survival. He picked up the comm. unit at the plotting table and took a deep breath before starting.

“This is the Commander. Moments ago we received word that a Cylon attack against our homes is underway.” He concentrated on the words, the need to inform the crew without disabling them in the process. “We do not know yet the size or disposition or strength of the enemy forces.” The reports in Tigh’s hands trembled at the glaring half-truth. “But all indications point to a massive assault against Colonial defences.

Admiral Nagala has taken personal command of the Colonial fleet aboard the battlestar Atlantia...” Bill paused for a moment, glancing down at the sheaf of reports scattered across the plotting table. “... following the destruction of Fleet Headquarters in the first wave of the attacks.” No one in the CIC moved or even breathed as they looked toward him while he spoke. He could almost feel the collectively indrawn breath across the ship. Shock crossed the faces of most of the CIC staff, and he felt a heaviness enter his limbs as every eye turned to him.

“How this could’ve happened, why it happened – none of it matters right now. What does matter is that as of this moment, we are at war. You’ve trained for this. You’re ready for this. Stand to your duties, trust your fellow shipmates and we’ll all get through this.” He forced as much confidence into the words as he could. Lead by example. Don’t let them see you sweat. He had to pause a moment as he felt his chest constrict, ribs pushing into lungs that couldn’t seem to fully inflate. “You’ll get further updates as we get them. Thank you.” He dropped the handset with a clatter and cast his eyes over the sea of petrified faces around him. Lead.

“Tactical – begin a plot on all military units in the system, friendly or otherwise.” Orders fell out of his mouth at a calm, even rate. He felt heavy, filled with an immeasurable numbness as he forged ahead. War. It was something he had never wanted to see again in his lifetime – but at the same time, the surge of adrenaline and fear was familiar. Like seeing an old friend you had lost touch with. He knew these moves – knew how to do this dance and somehow survive.

“Yes sir!” Gaeta snapped to attention – scurrying to accomplish the task set before him. And that was all anyone could do, really. Execute the orders given and worry about the next order when it came.

“XO – we’re going to need a new set of weapon coils.” Bill turned to Saul, who was still staring at him, his uniform unbuttoned and a look of disbelief on his face. At Bill’s words, he seemed to snap out of it and into motion.

“Right. I’ll check ammunition depots.”

“Dee – send a signal to our fighter squadron. I want a report on position and tactical status. And get Lt. Thrace out of the brig.” He fired the words like a semi-automatic weapon, no time for reload or pause for recoil, just a steady stream of ammunition.

“Yes sir.” And just like that, the eerie stillness seemed to lift as people were galvanized into motion – the sound filling the room as steps echoed on metal floors and voices rushed forth to complete the orders given.

Time seemed to slow and speed up all at once, leaving him with a jarring sense of disquiet. Activity buzzed through his mind as he fought to focus on the reports in front of him and repress any other thoughts running on loop in the back of his mind. He was a tactician; he couldn’t afford to worry about things out of his control. What was in his control was a fighter squadron, an aging battlestar and a completely unprepared, but well-trained, crew. And you’ve lived through worse, right? He shook his head, pushing her teasing voice aside as Gaeta hunched over the table in front of him, reporting on the ships in the sector.

“That puts our fighter squadron about here. Looks like the main fight is shaping up over here near Virgon’s orbit. Even at top speed, that’s still over an hour away.” Gaeta had calmed somewhat as he gripped the grease pencil in a hand that shook only slightly as he marked the positions he was reporting on.

Kara stepped up next to him, saluting sharply. “Ready for duty, sir.”

“Good.” He glanced at Gaeta as he spoke, trying to reassure the young man as he responded to Kara.

“Where the hell did the Cylons come from?” Kara asked in a rough tone, and he glanced at her before he answered her.

“All we know is the Cylons have achieved complete surprise and we’re taking heavy losses. Thirty battlestars lost in the first wave.” He recited the words calmly as his eyes travelled the marks Gaeta had laid out in front of them.

“That’s a quarter of the Fleet,” Kara said in disbelief, and he nodded grimly.

“I need pilots and fighters.” His mind was already plotting out how best to approach the battle – if they kept Virgon between them and the fight – could they slip in unnoticed?

“Pilots you got.” Kara spoke swiftly as she seemed to absorb her own shock and move straight into fight mode. “There’s twenty of us climbing the walls of the ready room. But fighters....”

“I seem to recall seeing an entire squadron of fighters down on the starboard hangar deck today.” He looked up as he spoke, and Kara’s eyes widened as she listened to his words. She snapped off a quick salute before heading out of the CIC at a run.

Bill ran a hand over his face roughly, feeling the metal of his ring bite into the skin there as he looked at Gaeta for a beat before spreading his hands across the table. “Sir?” Dualla’s voice was timid as she handed in another stack of communications. “We keep getting these weird reports about equipment malfunctions.”

“Why’s that weird?” Gaeta asked as Bill perused the stack of reports she had handed him.

“The number of malfunctions. One report said an entire battlestar lost power just before it came into contact with the enemy. They said it was like someone just turned off a switch.” Confusion was written on her face as she answered Gaeta, and Bill shot a look over his shoulder at Saul. Computers had been backdated for a reason after the first Cylon war.

“Commander!” A shout came from the left of the CIC as one of the officers stood unsteadily, gripping a report in his hand. He held it out, his hand shaking so badly that the paper dropped, fluttering gently to the floor. Bill moved over, picking it up and reading the contents with a sick feeling.

“Frak me.” His voice was barely a whisper, but the entire CIC seemed to hear it as they slowed, looking from Bill’s grim face to the shaking form of the officer still standing there, holding out an empty hand that jerked back and forth with violent tremors.

He walked over to the comm., picking up the handset and pushing down his nausea. “This is the Commander.” His voice wasn’t nearly as confident this time, slower and less sure, but at least he managed to keep it from wavering as he spoke. “Preliminary reports indicate a thermo-nuclear device in the fifty megaton range was detonated over Caprica City approximately thirty minutes ago. Nuclear explosions were also reported on Aerelon , Picon, Sagittaron and Gemenon.” Anger rose in him with each colony listed and his hand tightened around the comm. until his knuckles turned white.

Some frantic part of his brain was trying to do mental calculations about exactly how far from Caprica Laura’s ship would be, but he shoved the thoughts aside violently as he continued speaking. “There’s no report on casualties, but obviously... they will be high.”

“Mourn the dead later. Right now, the most important thing we can do is get this ship into the fight.” He was pushing aside his own thoughts even as he spoke. Laura, and the land they had bought – gone now – their home. Lee’s mother and Zak’s grave....

He abruptly hung up the receiver on that thought, allowing a brief wish that perhaps – maybe Lee and Laura had survived. Maybe the ship had slowed, or altered course at the first reports. Clenching his jaw, he pressed his palms into the surface of the table until they hurt, and with the pain came a distraction.

“Report.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Did you hear that – Caprica nuked....”

“They would have told us – ”

“ – got a wireless and they said – ”

“Who said? If it’s nuked who would be there to – ”

“Is it true?” Billy’s hands were clutching the armrests desperately, and she stared around them in shock. Over the murmur of voices, the crackle of dead air could be heard on the small radio someone had produced, and she felt bile rise in the back of her throat. It wasn’t – of course it wasn’t.

“I’m going to go see the Captain,” she soothed Billy, who didn’t even appear to hear her as she stood, moving to the front of the ship. She moved in slow motion, her hand gripping the railing by the stairs as she fought to remain calm. If there were an attack, surely Lee would have been called to duty. But he was still out there. If there were an attack... then they were at war. And war... oh Gods, Bill. The thought made her freeze halfway down the stairs to the cockpit as a sudden dread gripped her. She didn’t want to know.

If he – if he – she gasped, sucking in a sudden lungful of oxygen as she shook her head violently in protest. She would know. She would just know, and she didn’t know, therefore it wasn’t a possibility. Her mind repeated the false reassurance, and she clung to it as she stood straighter.

If there were an attack, he sure as hell wouldn’t be standing around waiting to find out what was going on. She moved slowly down the remaining stairs and rapped on the cockpit door. She jumped when it opened, and the pilot stood there, looking at her blankly. Her heart started pounding as she stared at him. “Excuse me.” She spoke politely but moved past him into the room without invitation, her heart rate dropping to a painfully slow rate when he allowed her to do so with no protest. He was staring at a small printout in his hand, and she felt her stomach drop as she looked at him.

“One of the passengers has a short-wave wireless. They heard a report that Caprica’s been nuked.” Her voice shook as he looked up and met her eyes for the first time since she had entered the room. Fear was gripping her as he stared at her without responding. She felt cold and was desperately praying for a different answer than the one he was clearly about to give her. He couldn’t seem to speak as he opened his mouth and no sound came out, and she felt an odd rush go through her. “It has, hasn’t it?”

Finally his gaze sharpened and he swallowed heavily. “Caprica and three other colonies.” Her heart seemed to slam against her chest at the words. He was holding the sheet of paper like it was something poisonous, his hand shaking as he stared at her intently.

She took the paper, her other hand gripping his so tightly that the setting on her ring cut into his skin. He didn’t seem to notice though, and she read through the message carefully, once, and than three more times because the words wouldn’t make sense on the first attempt.

”I should uh, make an announcement or – ” The pilot was speaking, but his hand still shook in hers and he looked pale. If he went out there –

“I’ll do it.” She cut him off, searching around for words as he stared at her gratefully. “I am a member of the political cabinet, so it’s my responsibility.” She took a deep breath as she slowly glanced around the cockpit. The cabinet... was there even a cabinet any longer? “While I’m doing that I want you to contact the Ministry of Defence and see what we can do to help.” She spoke slowly, assigning him the task as a polite request, and he released her hand and nodded abruptly. She nodded in return, gripping the paper as she stepped out of the cockpit and flew up the stairs.

Billy was waiting for her at the entryway, his eyes searching her face, as he paled further. She squeezed his forearm as she passed him, moving to stand in between the aisles and calling for attention in her best schoolroom voice.

“We have just been notified that a Cylon attack has taken place. Nuclear attacks have been launched over several colonies including Caprica, Picon, Aerelon and Tauron.” Gasps punctuated each word she spoke, and she swallowed as pandemonium broke out. People rose in their seats and begin shouting questions as some collapsed to the floor, screaming denials. “Please – stop – please – ” she shouted until the passengers turned glazed eyes to her. “I am trying to reach the government right now and get more information. In the meantime – ” She faltered slightly as she spoke, glancing around the room uncertainly before continuing. “We should be prepared for an extended stay on this ship.” She spoke as calmly as she could manage, knowing full well that panic could prevail at any moment. They needed a distraction: something to do, orders to follow or something of the sort. She had asked Bill once, what it was like in the war – how he hadn’t panicked. His only response had been a shrug and a statement that he hadn’t thought of it as a war. Just one order after another.

“You, you and you – make an inventory of the emergency supplies and rations.” She pointed at random passengers as she spoke, and to her surprise they nodded quickly.

“Wait a minute – who put you in charge?” She turned at the question to find Doral staring at her incredulously, and she bit back a retort as she stepped toward the odious man.

“That’s a good question.” She spoke calmly as she stared at him for a beat too long. “The answer is no one but this is a government vessel, and I am the senior government official on board, so that puts me in charge. So how about you help me out and go down to the cargo area and see about setting it up as a living space.” She didn’t wait for a response, turning back to the other passengers and continuing to speak. “Everyone else, please – try and stay calm. Thank you.” She moved back up to the front of the ship, with Billy at her heels. When they reached a less full section, she turned, handing him the sheet of paper she had taken from one of the stewards. “This is a passenger manifest.” She spoke softly and Billy stared at her blankly for a moment.

“Are you alright?” She asked softly, and he blinked at her in a daze. He looked stunned, and somehow his reaction calmed her.

“Yeah, I uh – yeah. My parents moved out to Picon three months ago. To be closer to my sisters and their families. Their grandkids.” She nodded in understanding as he spoke, unable to say anything to comfort him as silence descended.

“Madame Secretary?” The pilot appeared in the doorway, and she looked up with a mixture of relief and terror. “We got you a comm link.” She nodded and moved to follow him, shooting Billy a quick smile and brushing a hand over his sleeve before she followed the pilot down into the cockpit. The co-pilot stood immediately and offered her his seat. She took it, sliding the headset on, her heart in her throat. “Laura Roslin.”

“Thank the Gods you’re not here, Laura. Thank the Gods.” Jack Lydia, the Secretary of Defence’s voice flooded the line, desperate and echoing harshly in her ears. “It’s complete chaos. I’ve never seen anything like it – the dust... people wandering the streets.”

“Jack.” She spoke over his ramblings, but was ignored. “Jack. Where is the President? Jack – is he alive?” Her voice shook as she asked – and she fought to control it.

“I don’t know – I think so....” Jack’s voice was weakening, or was that the signal? She wasn’t sure.

“Have the Cylons made any demands?” she asked, despite her mind screaming in her ear that if there were demands, they would have been issued before the nuclear launch. Richard Adar was many things, but he wouldn’t have refused negotiations in lieu of a nuclear holocaust.

“I don’t know – ”

“Has anyone discussed – has anyone discussed surrender?” She spoke past the lump in her throat and felt a trickle of dread at Jack’s response.

“After Picon was nuked, the President offered a complete, unconditional surrender. The Cylons didn’t even respond.” She felt her throat constrict as the thought sunk in. They were not at war then, they were out to decimate the entire human race. No mercy, no negotiations. We have to run – it was the only thought in her mind as the pilot suddenly sat up and the monitors started bleeping in a frantic manner.

“The Cylons have found us, there’s an incoming missile.” The pilot looked petrified as he spoke, and Laura felt her heart jump and lodge in her chest. She leaned forward, staring out at the space around them as she fought back a feeling of panic.

“Where the frak is our escort then?” she snapped, searching the inky darkness around them for Lee’s Viper. Suddenly the pilot looked to the left, and she saw the missile – a tiny gray spec hurtling toward them. She blinked – and when she stared again, Lee’s Viper was directly in front of it, changing the missile’s directory as they flew past the ship at high speed. “Oh my Gods.” She stared, her heart lodged in her throat as she watched the Viper flip over, firing on the missile heading straight toward it.

The explosion rocked the ship gently, like a rowboat caught in a wave, and the comm line crackled to life. “Kryptor, kryptor, kryptor. I am declaring an emergency, flight systems are offline, I am in need of assistance.”

“What do we do?” The pilot was staring at the residue still gently falling from the exploded missile, and she resisted the urge to smack the man.

“We go get him,” she ordered, standing up and pointing out the window. She bit back a sigh at his blank stare and turned to the co-pilot. “Can you do that?” He nodded in response, and she turned back to the pilot. “We need a blueprint of the ship, and an inventory if possible – then we need to discuss what to do in the meantime.” She issued the demands without waiting for a response, and headed back up to where Billy was hovering anxiously. She nodded to him, and he handed her the updated passenger list that she looked over. “Billy, can we move these seats and get a table up here?”

He had been hovering at her elbow and nodded, moving into action and arranging a crude command center just as the pilot entered with the blueprints requested. “Captain Adama’s Viper was just brought into cargo bay two, ma’am,” the pilot reported as he sat next to her, and she spread the blueprints over the table, hunching forward to get a better view. She shivered slightly, pulling her coat closer as she peered at the sheets on the table.

“Here you go, ma’am.” Billy handed her a blanket seemingly out of nowhere, and she wrapped it around herself, shooting him a grateful smile. He really was a sweet boy... she swallowed, pushing the thought aside as she returned her attention to the papers in front of her. If she allowed one stray thought, she would be flooded with them. Best not to think at all. Her eyes focused on the things she could control, which were the blueprints in front of her.

“We need more room for survivors – is that possible?” She glanced at the pilot who frowned.

“Survivors?”

“There are stranded ships out here, just like us – it seems logical to gather the troops, so to speak, and take on as many as we can before we leave.” She spoke calmly as she pulled the blanket down and removed her suit coat before pulling it back up. Billy approached them again, placing two cups of coffee in front of them before moving off to a side chair and pulling out a notebook.

“Leave?” The pilot was repeating every word she said, and she sighed in exasperation.

“Well, we’re sure as hell not going to our original destination, are we?” He nodded in response, and she tapped the papers on the table. “What if we transferred the containers from bay three to bay four, then we could use one, two and three for passengers?” She turned to the pilot who nodded as he leaned forward too.

“It’s doable. Lots of heavy lifting without dock loaders though.” She nodded in agreement with his words and he stood slowly.

“A little hard work is just what the people need right now.” She spoke encouragingly as the pilot looked at her in accord. Billy was taking studious notes in the seat next to her, and just then Doral entered the cabin, followed by what she could only assume was Lee Adama. Bill’s son looked nothing like him really, but she pushed the thought back along with several regrets about the manner in which she was meeting he step-son for the first time. If it hadn’t been so tragic, she would have allowed her sense of humour to get the better of her. “Captain, good to see you again.”

Lee stepped forward to shake the pilot’s hand, and ignored her words for the moment. Laura eyed Doral behind him and shot a glance at Billy, who shrugged imperceptibly. “Thanks for the lift.” Lee was speaking to the pilot, and he laughed self-depreciatingly.

“You should be thanking her. She’s the one who insisted we go after you.” The pilot exited quickly, and she turned to Billy as he was speaking.

“Billy, can you start the cargo transfer and then prep bay three for survivors.” Billy wrote her instructions down as he nodded and stood.

“Yes ma’am.” Billy closed his book, and moved to stand right away.

“I’m sorry – survivors?” Lee addressed her directly for the first time as Billy left, and she nodded in response.

“As soon as the attacks began, the government ordered a full stop on all civilian vessels. So now we’ve got hundreds of stranded ships in the solar system, some are lost, some are stranded, some are losing power. We have enough space on this ship to accommodate up to five hundred people and we are going to need every bit of it.” She stood as she spoke quickly and Doral glanced from both her to Lee.

“But we don’t even know what the tactical situation is out there,” Doral protested, and she stared at him incredulously for a moment before she answered.

“The tactical situation is that we are losing, right Captain?” She transferred her gaze back to Lee who stood silently before nodding slowly.

“Right,” he agreed reluctantly and she nodded.

“So we pick up as many people as we can and try to find a safe haven to put down on.” She moved toward the door to the cockpit, intent on seeing if they could raise any surviving ships in the area on the wireless. She paused and turned back to Lee, who was watching her with no expression whatsoever. “Captain, I’d like you to look over the navigational charts for a likely place to hide from the Cylons.” She waited for his small nod before dismissing both men. “That’s all.” She exited the room, allowing a brief smile to play over her mouth as she wondered what, if anything, Bill had told Lee about her. She swallowed at the thought of Bill before straightening her spine and her resolve. She would not let these people – let Bill’s only son – die here on this ship. The thought carried her into the cockpit, where she sat down and turned her mind to the task at hand.

"Apparantly."

Mon, 09 Jun 2008 18:56:23 GMT

OH YES BB'S. WHILE THE WORLD AND IT'S DOG IS IMPLODING FROM THE HUB AWESOMENESS AND I SIT STILL SQUEEING IN MY LIVING ROOM AND SINGING 'SO THIS IS WHAT CANON FEELS LIKE' - I DECIDE TO BRING YOU PICSPAM. IS IT THE HUB YOU ASK? No. Because I am an OCD freak that way and that would be going out of order. I don't DO out of order. So instead, I bring you 4x03 - The Ties That Bind. Because I rebel against the norm that way.

So onto the piccy spammage! WARNNG: Contains spoilers for 4x03 - and is very image heavy. Like, t's a PIC spam, lol. Not dial up friendly.

Watching the credits now, and seriously. Could Simon BE any more useless of a model? At least Dorel - while annoying and beady-eyed, had some lines at one point or another. WHEN HAS SIMON EVER SAID ANYTHNG AFTER 'THE FARM' OR WHATEVER THE HELL EP IT WAS HE TALKED IN? How bad must that have sucked for that actor? 'You have a guest stint on BSG.' 'AWESOME I FRAKKING LOVE THAT SHOW! AM I A CYLON? TELL ME I'M A CYLON. I'LL NEVER DIE THEN AND IT WILL BE AN AWESOME STEADY PAYCHECK!' 'Congratulations, you ARE a Cylon. But uh- the MUTE Cylon. Who never speaks. And mostly is there for diversity purposes (yeah I SAID IT) and the odd medical Cylon emergency!' 'So... I'll still be working though right? And int he opening credits and shit?' 'Well, yes but NOT a main character. And not speaking. So you're like an extra.' 'Well what do get paid?' '$90 a day. Whoo! But technically with the no lines thing, and limited base star scenes. you're only working five days.' 'FRAK.'

Also while I'm on a tangent, I am SO OVER the final Cylon. Who gives a frak now? let's see those final five aren't AT ALL like regular Cylons, there are no copies, no one is resurrecting any time soon and they can make babies (go Tigh! - I am probably the only person in the universe who loves the dirty hot wrongness of Six/Tigh) so what exactly is the point? Unless the final one really DOES know the way to Earth - but I doubt it'll matter at that point.

Hahahaha oh previouslies, not only do you have Three awesomeness, but I get to relive the Centurion death raid and Natalie awesome. WIN. I love how the Centurions have NO AIM AT ALL. They'll just shoot the shit out of the view in front of them and hope the intended target gets some.

EW NEKKID CAVIL, NEKKID CAVIL! I actually love Cavil and his blatant evulness - but not enough to be subjected to THIS strange threesome, thanks RDM.

And thank you Grace, for draping the towels on Cavil here so he looks like a white!Emperor, lol. Cavil - the other OTHER white Sith.

Seriously Bboomer, are you THIS pissed Tyrol married Cally? REALLY? Cause uh - no. God. Even SIMON is hotter than Cavil - and he doesn't SPEAK. MAJOR BONUS POINTS. Or you could patiently wait for Sam - the hottest male Cylon EVAR to finally get on board your ship, if you know what I'm sayin'.

Moving on to Cally who, prepare yourselves I ACTUALLY LIKED so suck it up - she'll be covered here, mkay? First off - NO WONDER she can't sleep well with this night light fucking spinning like a disco ball - but look how well it lit the OMINOUS shot of the OMINOUS pills. Sure they could just be Midol - but if the shot didn't clue you in the jacked out music Bear wrote while stoned is a CLEAR INDICATION that this is NOT your average Midol, folks.

That's right guys. FOOD IS GONE, WATER IS RUNNING OUT - WE ARE EATING ALGAE, THERE IS NO EXTRA CLOTHING (unless you are Lee Adama) but baby bottles? SURPLUS!!!!! Strange nightlights? SURPLUS!!!

Okay just so we know - this is not a sign of insanity. I did this constantly with my kids baby food. HAVE YOU LOOKED AT THAT SHIT? And this stuff is made with algae. Yum, yum.

So flashback arguments. Thanks BSG cause we were all wandering around under the impression that this marriage was a slice of heaven. Somehow when BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF A GIRL leads to a proposal, we're pretty aware that is not functional, kthnxbai. Also? Nicky - Galactica's cutest baby evar, yes?

So we cut to Tyrol yammering on about how it sux to be a Cylon to Tory who is all 'But orgasm's are SO MUCH BETTER now Galen. Trust me - why would I be sleeping with baltar otherwise?'

So refresher of obvious IN CASE YOU DIDN'T CATCH THE PILLS, OR THE PILL POPPING - CALLY IS HIGH. SEE THE BLURRY CAMERA FILTER OF OBVIOUS? And carrying her baby around - what? BRITNEY?! IS THAT YOU?

And here's the Cylon slut - still happily hitting on a married man. So let's see, Anders, Baltar - she attempting Galen now. Best step off Tory - Tigh's the next logical choice, but methinks Caprica would bust a cap in your ass in a heartbeat.

Oh look Mommy! There's Daddy, with that psychotic lady who's banging Baltar. Nicky promptly begins to SCREAM HIS FACE OFF yet Galen STILL does not turn around. Because you know, you hear babies in bars ALL THE TIME.

I kind of love that Cally vomits at the sight of them though. ME TOO CAL, ME TOO.

Cottle! I HEARD YOU. *love* And here's Laura with the awesome hair (*holds moment of silence*)getting her diloxin treatment and probably thinking about all the ways she wants to airlock Kara Thrace and make Bill watch.

Oh yeah, this one is just because I love Mary. Love her breathing through her mouth and she looks gorgeous. *pets*

So Bill, being Bill doesn't apologize or explain or any of those other wussy things. He reads, bitches. Sure he could be clearing the air here - or taking this opportunity to confess his clear undying love for her - but they've got time. Not like anyone's DYING or anything. So he'll read her a book about a guy discovering a bloated corpse being dragged out of a river and somehow make it seem not only romantic, but incredibly hot. Seriously - if Adama were played by anyone OTHER than EJO? this scene would have been awful. But lucky for us, EJO is Adama, so it ends up being awesome.

Why must all the awesomely shippy moments take place with credits? WHY MUST YOU HATE ON US LIKE THAT RON?

Oh yes, let's move on to Lee wunderkind of the political arena. Dude. Don't even - like how did he even get ELECTED is what I want to know. HOW? But I digress. Look at Roslin and Zarek's faces. Roslin is totally thinking 'airlockairlockairlock' while Zarek is all 'pawnpawnpawn'.

Bill's listening and wondering just how the hell he produced such a fine tool. Here's a hint Bill. You were gone alot. Carolann was all alone and a bit of a bitch and a drunk. DO THE MATH. AND THE DNA TEST.

This is Lee. This is Lee getting PWND. Even random security detail guy in the back is all 'Shit - Jack, I TOLD YOU. You owe me fifty cubits!'

This is Laura. See Laura PWN Lee's ass. Now she will PWN Bill's by throwing him to the wolves in regards to Kara - a suspected CYLON - being given a ship and a hug goodbye. Hey remember when we suspected Doral of being a Cylon with no proof? What'd we do to him? Oh yeah LEFT HIM TO DIE ON RAGNAR. And remember Leoban? What happened to him again? Oh yeah AIRLOCKED. And D'Anna must have gone the same way post New Caprica (frakking planet). But not Kara. She's special.

Aw, Bill doesn't look happy about his PWNAGE.

And clearly Tory has moved on from the crash and burn with Galen. Tory is totally whispering 'Bill blows and I love you in lesbian type ways, and we have that meeting about the secrets of awesome hair you were teaching me, yes?'

Lee clearly overheard some of the plans for said girl on girl action and isn't comfortable with the thought. Cause you couldn't HANDLE it Lee.

Don't let Bill's body language fool you, you know he is TOTALLY LOVING being called to the Principal's office like this.

Laura seems a little TOO into the roleplay though. I actually love how much of a dumbass Bill is in this scene. it reminds me of that awesome Billy/Dee scene in Water where he tells her her hair is pretty even though it looks the same as always and she's all WTF? and he's all 'I know nothing about women.' See, here Bill is all 'I wanted to give Kara a chance. Give myself a chance to believe in her.' And Laura is all 'Nice that you're giving her that chance that you NEVER EVER GAVE ME. Remember? JAIL CELL. And I automatically win every argument ever between us with those two words. JAIL CELL.' And if Bill had just stammered and explained he knew nothing about women, it could have gone differently. Of course, Billy got screwed in the end anyway - so who knows Bill? Best just walk off and wait for her to forgive you.

Oh look. I EPICALLY DON'T CARE.

Except to say, hey remember in the mini how EPICALLY HUGE that first jump was, and Gaeta was the only one who knew how to calculate them? Well, Gaeta and Tigh - but clearly now everyone and their dog can calculate jumps. They must have circulated a flyer or something. JUMPS FOR DUMMIES.

Oh yeah - did we mention that Bill gave Kara a ship FILLED WITH HIS BEST PILOTS AND NAV PEOPLE? Like what the frak Bill. You're gonna rely on Tigh - who is clearly out of it and oh by the way a CYLON - to plot all your jumps? Oh wait - good thing we circulated that flyer.

So back to Galen, attempting to tell Cally that FOR RLS, NOTHING HAPPENED BABY I SWEAR. I WAS JUST OUT GETTING AWAY FROM MY LIFE - BUT NOT YOU, JUST OTHER ASPECTS OF MY LIFE I CANNOT TELL YOU ABOUT - AND TORY WAS THERE, AND SHE'S A SLUT AS YOU KNOW - BUT NOTHING HAPPENED. I LOVE YOU. Cally's all bitch, whatever - and I know the actress isn't the best but I love how she plays this scene because I watched it and thought - wow, I have DONE this to my husband. WIN.

And Nicky makes fun of Tyrol in a way only the most epically awesome baby could. Hera who? NICKY is the cutest lil' hybrid around.

So not only does Natalie rule so hard she incites civil war, and gives Centurions higher reasoning - but she gets them to CLEAN UP AFTER THEMSELVES. Best Mom ever award goes to...

NATALIE!!!! Oh I love her so very very much. And she has the annoying eight twinset!sweater!twins with her. Where the hell is Leoban? Oh right - I remember. Off to find Kara. And he rocks so hard there's only one of him.

'Now Centurion, Mommy asked you to escort this nice man off the ship...... please. You know the rules - every time you're a bad Cylon, Mommy takes away one of your guns!' You know he totally only complied because the power of the boobs compelled him.

I kind of heart Cavil in this ep. Oh you evul cylon bastard you.

So here's Lee, arriving early on his first big day of work - like the ingrained brown-noser he is. Your boss sort of HATES YOU Lee - I don't think showing up fifteen minutes early in your best suit is gonna help the matter any.

So in walks Zarek, laughing about how much better his tie is than Lee's and generally talking circles around poor Lee until he doesn't know what's up or down or if Zarek is helping Roslin or secretly plotting against her. Given that it's Zarek, the math isn't that hard, but let me help you out Lee. This is Zarek. Zarek is a dude who blew some people up to get his way and got thrown in jail. The worlds ended, whereupon Zarek did not cry about what he lost, but thought - how can I make this work for me? Zarek then tried to be VP and get Roslin killed. It didn't work. And he didn't even get VP cause Roslin PWND him. Then he decided to try to convince HER VP to run against her and win and make HIM the NEW VP - and it worked. And had Cylons not shown up and occupied the place, I am SURE Baltar would have died tragically falling out of bed one morning after a night of druken debauchery and Zarek holding a pillow over his face, because really - like they have CSI's running around finding fibers in their throats and shit, and then Zarek would have been President. You know, for a dude who's all about elections - it's kind of ironic that he keeps trying to get President's 'taken care of' so he can slide on in. But I digress, and Lee has lost focus while staring at Zarek's shiny tie - yes it IS prettier than yours Lee. Point being it's frakking ZAREK. OF COURSE HE IS UP TO SOMETHING. D'UH. NEED MORE CLUES?

HERE YOU GO. GOOD VP's don't talk about how secrecy is becoming an obsession for their President and then CASUALLY DISPERSE CLASSIFIED FOLDERS ON TOP OF RLY RLY ODD LOOKING FUGLY DESKLAMPS DUMBASS.

COTTLE! I absoluetly loved him in this scene. And his face when Cally totally stole his smoke. AWESOME.

Just another random badass shot of Cottle. Cause I love him. And totally ship him and Brenda - House's resident evul nurse. And yes, cross over fic WILL be written one day, shut up babylon_whore.

HAHAHAHAHAHA. I just LOVE this 'Well. That was AWKWARD.' shot post-sexings for Sam and Kara. She's probably all 'wait - did you see that red light?'

Oh Cavil - back to your awesome evulness. I mean, Natalie wins - but really - Cavil is about to teach her a lesson in trust. Namely that it should be applied to no one.

Hahaha, doesn't beng President look like an awesomely fun job? Who WOULDN'T want to do this forever?

Except when Lee stands up to make a point of order - Laura looks at Zarek like 'how cute - he's going to try to do this for rls!'

'I personally don't feel the need for a Junior Delagate to appoint himself my spokesman.' PWND LEE, TOTAL PWNAGE. You should know better.

So Lee brings up the super seekrit confidential executive order. Because he wins that way - and since Mommy didn't thank him and pat him on the head for defending her, he's gonna throw a tantrum. Lee is so the red-headed step-child guys, srsly.

I love how Laura isn't even PAYING ATTENTION to him, she's all writing a note. Which you kow totally says 'Note; place shiney object in airlock later for Lee to 'find' whereupon I accidentally airlock him. Because it's not like we have CSI's dusting for prints out here.'

Oh look a full shot so we can properly see Lee getting his ass spanked in full public view. And that isn't nearly as fun as it sounds. I blame Carolann for lee. clearly she didn't beat him enough. He was probably her favorite.

Laura wins. Like we all didn't know that already.

So here's where my love of Natalie wavers a bit. Weebles, really. Cause when twinset!Eight says 'The Ressurrection ship didn't make the jump' I would have said 'WHAT THE FRAK? JUMP THE MOFO!'

Hahahah, they totally look like jacks. Just saying.

Aww Natalie. Cavil pwned you a bit here. But because you're so awesome, I won't say it in caps.

Um hai thar CGI guys. I GET that you love your job - I mean, it's an AWESOME job to have - but this is YET another example of 'there totally would not be a ship left after this' which we know there IS. So, you know. Scale the enthusiasm back a bit. Do more shots of Galactica's guns firing, cause we all love to blow some CGI money on gun!porn!

'Just remember, they started it.' A perfect example of why Cylons are total KIDS when it comes to the right to live. Scenes like this make me want to go back in time and smack Sharon in the face when she asks Adama WHY humans are allowed to survive. Like Cylons are any frakking better.

At least Boomer seems upset about it - I love her line here 'My own sisters...' You'd think Boomer would have like, identity issues. OMGS you know what would make awesomely good fic - if like Boomer totally killed stalker!Eight in the Hub, switched outfits with her, and left with Helo and the fleet so she could totally go kill Sharon and take her life. It's like Single Cylon Female.

WHY I LOVE CAVIL. 'We're machines, dear, remember? We don't have souls.'

Oh right, I almost forgot about you guys. I love how Cally was totally about to move on and ditch the pills when she found the note.

First off; ARE YOU EPICALLY STUPID TIGH?! WHAT KIND OF PLACE IS THAT TO LEAVE A NOTE? Secondly: you kind of write like a girl. Just saying. I totally thought it was from Tory at first - because of the girly writing.

So here are the RLY RLY smart Cylons gathering INCONSPICOUSLY. SMRT smart. I mean, shouldn't they all arrive at different times? Tigh needs to go read some spy novels - I'm sure Adama has a few.

So I'll cut through all the guitar strummy music filled tension in the air - Cally finds out they're Cylons.

And Tyrol um... confused Cylons with Emo!kids - an understandable mistake - and had taken to cutting himself and licking the blood up, Mmmmm... tastes like toast.

So, not only does Cally DROP A PANEL and they brush it off like dirt off their shoulder, she leaves the PANEL OPEN and Tigh and Tyrol BOTH do not notice. Tory does though. But srsly, Tigh and Tyrol have got to be the WORST CYLONS EVER. Moving on - so Cally goes home, shoves the note back in it's epically hidden hiding spot, and proceeds to freak out. Naturally, we all know what she does to skin jobs. Shoots them in the hallway. Apparantly she passed that torch on to Athena when she.. well, we'll get to that. So here's Tyrol thinking 'hey - my wife hates me and hates her life and thinks I'm having an affair so LET'S HAVE ANOTHER BABY.' Hmm. Cylons really ARE Mormons.

I actually like the little flashbacks to their life here - this picture is so epically cute of them. They're so happy!

Tyrol gets distracted by Nicky who is CLEARLY all 'OH NOES DADDY LOOK OUT MOMMY KNOWS WE'RE MORMONS!'

But he doesn't listen and Cally beats his Mormon ass with a wrench.

So Cally clearly thinks that an airlock is the best place to off yourself and your small child. She probably would have shot herself, but murder/suicide is hard yo.

Tory actually talks a good game in here - she had me convinced, right up until she kicked Cally's ass, that she was somewhat okay.

And then she did this and I was sitting on my couch going 'OH SHIT. OH SHIT. I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS. OH SHIT!'

But I love that Tory is all 'Shh Nicky, no, no, don't watch your newMommy kill your oldMommy.'

*sniff* SHUT UP. I LIKED HER. Poor Cally.

And of course, Adama has to explain this all to Tyrol. how does THAT convo go I wonder? 'Hey chief - sorry your wife knocked you out, but I guess you're such a great husband she decided to airlock herself. She almost took the baby with her, but Tory managed to somehow get him - you know Tory, the woman you were accused of having an affair that your wife KNOWS is a CYlon, yeah she just HANDED YOUR CHILD off to this woman. WILLINGLY. And THEN airlocked herself.' See. I think there is NO WAY tyrol can think Cally killed herself. he knows her, and her skin job hating ways. There is no way she would have airlocked HERSELF instead of say, him Tory and Tigh. DO THE MATH GALEN.

And on that happy note - we're off. What a warm fuzzy way to end an ep, man, srsly.