viciouswishes: (ellen/saul joy)
[personal profile] viciouswishes
Title: The Day I Met You
Author: viciouswishes
Fandom: BSG
Pairing: Ellen/Saul
Rating: PG13
Setting: 7 years pre-series
Words: 1382
Summary: The five ways that Ellen might've met Saul.

Ellen feels old. She adjusts her bra and looks into the mirror again. Then she puts more powder on her face to cover her puffy eyes. She should've never let Tina talk her into going out last night.

Or really tonight. But Tina's swore that a ship's coming in and there's bound to be some new guys around. Ellen's really sick of knowing all the barflies. She could take Miller or Ray into her bed. But in the morning, it's the same promises and awkward laughs.

And Ellen's beginning to think fondly of her ex-husband and that's just never a good thing.

"You ready yet?" Tina shouts from downstairs. Ellen never understands why she's in such a hurry, it's not like they're going any further than down the street. Ellen really hates small towns.

The bar's cramped with the usual people. Though Ellen smiles when she sees a parade of blue walk through the door. The bartender's an-ex soldier so those boys are practically drinking for free and they'll be drinking a lot.

"These seats taken," Ellen says. She runs her hand over the wood chair and sees Tina rushing toward her. "Yeah, you mind?" Tina asks. When they introduce themselves, Ellen thinks that Bill and Saul aren't so bad. Not compared to the others who are begging body shot off Molly Hatch and Josie Simmons. Usually, Ellen would be in the middle of it, but tonight she feels off her game.

But not off enough to miss Bill's wedding ring as she scoots herself closer to Saul. "How long have you been in the service?" Ellen grins at Saul. He's cute and well-built and there's gravel in his voice that makes her knees weak.

"Since the Cylon Wars," Saul says. "Then I spent a few years on a cargo ship before getting reenlisted."

Ellen listens to his stories about flying and places her hand over his. Yes, Saul isn't like the men in this town.

*****

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Those are the first words that Ellen hears Saul speak and then he's punching her boyfriend in the face.

Men have always noticed Ellen, but she continually winds up with the losers. The ones who gamble, drink, and hit her. Ellen's been trying to learn how to hit back, but instead, she stands there frozen trying to remember what she was taught in her self-defense class.

Right now, she thinks that she might scream.

But when Mark's wiping the blood from his nose and doesn't rise up to hit back, Ellen takes the opportunity to ask her stranger savior to escort her home over the airbus. And they leave Mark behind in the newly fallen snow.

"Does he always do that?"

"Aren't you being a little rude?" Ellen says as she walks ahead of Saul into the lighted bus stop. She's almost forgotten about the sting on her cheek from Mark's hand.

"I did just punch your boyfriend, lady."

"The name's Ellen."

"Saul." Saul offers his hand for her to shake.

Ellen sighs and grabs a tissue from her purse. "You still have blood on your hand." She notices a Colonial Fleet insignia on jacket. "Are you a pilot?"

"Yep. Tonight's my last night on Caprica before I ship out."

"So you were going to stay out all night in the snow."

"Better than sleeping in barracks."

"Don't you have any friends?"

"Aren't you being a little rude," Saul echoes her earlier sentiment, making them both laugh. "My friend Bill's with his family. Got a wife and a couple of boys."

"You married?" Ellen asks. She knows that a lot soldiers take their holidays with someone other than their wives. She's been with a couple. But Saul, he shakes his head no. "Well, the least I can do is offer you a warm place to stay tonight."

Saul raises his eyebrow. "You sure that's safe."

Ellen thinks that Saul can't be any worse than what she has. "I don't have the best tastes in men."

"So I've noticed."

*****

Ellen really needs to remember to take off her mascara before going to bed. Her eyelids are sticking together and her mouth feels like a Picon desert. She tries to swallow and reaches for the glass of water on her nightstand, only to hear a groan from the other side of the bed. Frak.

"Morning," Ellen says after she's had the glass of water. She's trying to remember the guy's name: John, Will, Paul... Saul. It was Saul. Bill's friend. Bill who she spent half her night trying to seduce only to find out that he was trying to make amends with his wife.

Saul sits up in her bed. The look on his face clearly calls for a pain pill and hangover food. He's practically glaring at her. Okay, not a morning person. "Where am I?"

"In my bed." Ellen rolls her eyes and falls back onto her pillows. "My name's Ellen, in case you don't remember."

Saul just grunts. She feels the bed shift as he stands, probably looking for his clothes.

Ellen's feeling kind of whimsical, despite the headache and the grouchy soldier. "Would you like to stay for pancakes? I make the best hangover pancakes."

*****

Ellen hates weddings. She gave up her dreams of wearing white and walking down the aisle when her mother died and Ellen threw all her old dolls in the trash. But she's at Tina and John's wedding because she's a good friend and the maid of honor. Ellen snatches another flute of champagne. She really frakking hates weddings.

She turns and watches the people dancing. If only she hadn't dumped Mark two weeks ago, then she could be out there dancing. Of course, then Mark would be feeling her up and they'd be fighting.

"Care to dance?" a man asks her, almost on queue. She thinks she remembers seeing him on the groom's side. He's wearing a dress uniform, which definitely signals that he's one of John's military buddies.

"I'd be delighted." Ellen follows him out on the dance floor.

Saul turns out to be very polite and better on his feet than she'd first guessed. He's sweet and isn't sticking his hands up her skirt during the faster numbers. They dance for about five songs before Ellen's questioning just why he hasn't kissed her yet. Surely, a man this willing to dance would be a good kisser.

Instead, they walk outside for a smoke. Ellen's a social smoker and it seems that Saul is too. He's telling her a story about being on a Gemenon trading post and accidentally insulting a priest and she's laughing and shivering in the cold. Her thin magenta bridesmaid dress leaves much to be desired, including insulation.

And Saul, well, he's just a gentleman enough to take off his coat and wrap it around her shoulders. "You looked cold."

"Thanks." Ellen's laughter has died, but she's smiling. She puts her hand on his cheek and kisses him.

"I've been waiting all night for you to do that," Saul says when they break.

"Good." Ellen leans in and kisses him again.

******

Ellen slips on her heels and sneaks out the door. Technically, non-soldiers aren't supposed to be in the barracks, but as long as no one sees her, no problem. Of course, her heels are loud against the pavement.

"Aren't you kind of old to be sneaking out of the barracks?"

Ellen stops in her tracks, feeling her stomach flip up toward her throat. She turns around to see a man coming toward her. "Excuse me."

"Let me guess you're one of the wives."

Crossing her arms, Ellen glares at him. "Never been married."

"So then, like I said, aren't you kind of old for this?"

Ellen steps forward. She's not going to let him get away with insulting her. She's not old. Okay, a smidgen over 30 or maybe mid-30s. But that's certainly not old. "I'm not the one on night duty." She reaches up and grabs his collar. "I take it that you're single."

"Not married or otherwise committed."

"Okay then. Now we're getting somewhere." Ellen reaches into her purse and takes out a piece of paper. "What's your number? You definitely owe me dinner."

"Got a name?" he asks.

"Ellen."
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