Ficlet: Worse Places
Mar. 26th, 2007 11:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
viciouswishesPlease note that I have not seen the season finale yet, so this, like myself, has no clue.
Title: Worse Places
Author: viciouswishes
Fandom: BSG
Pairing: Ellen/Saul
Rating: NC17
Setting: Spoilers through "Exodus Part 2"
Words: 677
Summary: Ellen realizes the value in setting up a home.
Home
Ellen realizes the value in setting up a home, giving herself somewhere familiar to crawl into at the end of the night. Giving Saul somewhere to rest his head next to hers. Someplace to call their own.
Their tent on New Caprica is smaller than their quarters on the Galactica. Ellen's surprised at just how much stuff they had between the two of them. Of course, Saul had moved almost everything he owned before the attacks. Sometimes, Ellen is thankful for things that the rest of the colonies cry over.
They christen the tent by making love on the small cot in between unpacking their kitchen supplies. Ellen thinks that her pumps look just fine sitting on the rug by the door.
Cup
Their cups rest on a ledge and the dirty ones in a bucket. There's no running water yet, but Baltar's making promises to have plumbing put into the entire colony by the time the leaves turn.
Ellen ignores the emerging yellow tint as much as she does how many times a day she sweeps. She goes on long walks with Saul, holding his hand and dreaming the way she hasn't since she was a young girl. They stop and visit with Duck and Nora on their way home. Nora's made a thick pea soup, and she insists that they stay and try it. It's bland; Nora's a better mechanic than cook, but it's certainly not the worst thing Ellen's eaten.
When they make it home, Ellen thinks that tomorrow she'll do the dishes. And she's won't miss the sticky film of ambrosia in the bottoms of their cups.
Headboard
Ellen remembers beds with strong wooden frames and thick headboards and the feel of Saul binding her wrists to them. Instead, she reaches up and grips the thin metal bar as he kisses down her stomach.
She shivers from the slight breeze and her nipples stand pert. Saul's hands separate her thighs. She concentrates on just how soft and gentle he can be, and how sharply different morning is compared to last night when her nails dug hard enough into his back for blood. Ellen clutches onto cold metal.
Shower
Ellen feels Saul's eyes watching her as her hips sway. They were drunk, celebrating Baltar's ability to throw some dirt and Ellen's ability to drink Anders under the table. Now she's hot and sticky. Tomorrow she's going to be the color of a ripe Aerelon tomato, but now she thinks she'll be bronzed.
Saul follows her into the showers, stripping off the remaining bits of his Colonial uniform.
Everyone's either too drunk or high - Ellen had managed a drag or two from Roslin's joint - to really care about the married couple who finds themselves under the spray, fucking like teenagers again.
Water cascades between them and down her back as Ellen bends over to give Saul a better angle. He bites down on her shoulder as she comes.
Chair
Ellen steals chairs from Anders for resistance meetings. At first, she can't find enough spaces. She can't fill her house enough with folding, collapsing, and sturdy chairs.
Tyrol tells Ellen that it's really nice for her to play host. She thinks about slapping him hard across the cheek, but worries too much about angry tears.
She only lets them fall as she holds tiny Nicky, watching him while his mother goes to temple. Her home is empty, and the chair more and more vacant as the days pass.
Mirror
Ellen thought about throwing their full-length mirror out. But instead, she scrubbed the hateful phrases off and purged her memories. It seemed wasteful at the time to throw it out.
Now she stands in front of it, twice a day, helping Saul with the bandage over his eye. Ellen tries not to look at her own reflection. By the third day, it's become routine and she kisses him roughly on the mouth when they're done. She considers giving the mirror to Tory.
Home
Ellen considers as she's dying... She considers... There are worse places.
Title: Worse Places
Author: viciouswishes
Fandom: BSG
Pairing: Ellen/Saul
Rating: NC17
Setting: Spoilers through "Exodus Part 2"
Words: 677
Summary: Ellen realizes the value in setting up a home.
Home
Ellen realizes the value in setting up a home, giving herself somewhere familiar to crawl into at the end of the night. Giving Saul somewhere to rest his head next to hers. Someplace to call their own.
Their tent on New Caprica is smaller than their quarters on the Galactica. Ellen's surprised at just how much stuff they had between the two of them. Of course, Saul had moved almost everything he owned before the attacks. Sometimes, Ellen is thankful for things that the rest of the colonies cry over.
They christen the tent by making love on the small cot in between unpacking their kitchen supplies. Ellen thinks that her pumps look just fine sitting on the rug by the door.
Cup
Their cups rest on a ledge and the dirty ones in a bucket. There's no running water yet, but Baltar's making promises to have plumbing put into the entire colony by the time the leaves turn.
Ellen ignores the emerging yellow tint as much as she does how many times a day she sweeps. She goes on long walks with Saul, holding his hand and dreaming the way she hasn't since she was a young girl. They stop and visit with Duck and Nora on their way home. Nora's made a thick pea soup, and she insists that they stay and try it. It's bland; Nora's a better mechanic than cook, but it's certainly not the worst thing Ellen's eaten.
When they make it home, Ellen thinks that tomorrow she'll do the dishes. And she's won't miss the sticky film of ambrosia in the bottoms of their cups.
Headboard
Ellen remembers beds with strong wooden frames and thick headboards and the feel of Saul binding her wrists to them. Instead, she reaches up and grips the thin metal bar as he kisses down her stomach.
She shivers from the slight breeze and her nipples stand pert. Saul's hands separate her thighs. She concentrates on just how soft and gentle he can be, and how sharply different morning is compared to last night when her nails dug hard enough into his back for blood. Ellen clutches onto cold metal.
Shower
Ellen feels Saul's eyes watching her as her hips sway. They were drunk, celebrating Baltar's ability to throw some dirt and Ellen's ability to drink Anders under the table. Now she's hot and sticky. Tomorrow she's going to be the color of a ripe Aerelon tomato, but now she thinks she'll be bronzed.
Saul follows her into the showers, stripping off the remaining bits of his Colonial uniform.
Everyone's either too drunk or high - Ellen had managed a drag or two from Roslin's joint - to really care about the married couple who finds themselves under the spray, fucking like teenagers again.
Water cascades between them and down her back as Ellen bends over to give Saul a better angle. He bites down on her shoulder as she comes.
Chair
Ellen steals chairs from Anders for resistance meetings. At first, she can't find enough spaces. She can't fill her house enough with folding, collapsing, and sturdy chairs.
Tyrol tells Ellen that it's really nice for her to play host. She thinks about slapping him hard across the cheek, but worries too much about angry tears.
She only lets them fall as she holds tiny Nicky, watching him while his mother goes to temple. Her home is empty, and the chair more and more vacant as the days pass.
Mirror
Ellen thought about throwing their full-length mirror out. But instead, she scrubbed the hateful phrases off and purged her memories. It seemed wasteful at the time to throw it out.
Now she stands in front of it, twice a day, helping Saul with the bandage over his eye. Ellen tries not to look at her own reflection. By the third day, it's become routine and she kisses him roughly on the mouth when they're done. She considers giving the mirror to Tory.
Home
Ellen considers as she's dying... She considers... There are worse places.
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on 2007-03-27 01:04 pm (UTC)Lovely.
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