ishafel (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} ishafel) wrote,@ 2008-04-17 20:10:00 |
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BSG ficlet: "God of Reason," PG13, Lee/ Tory
episode tag for "Six of One".
It puzzles Tory in the beginning: they are at war, and Major Adama is a highly decorated officer, an ace pilot, and the son of the Admiral. And yet his colleagues seem willing, even glad to see him go. They throw him parties, they pour him drinks, they clap him on the shoulder, shake his hand, salute him as he goes. They do not whisper about desertion. They do not grumble about nepotism. They do not seem likely to miss him when he goes. Even his wife is smiling. Even his father.
She contrives to ask the others about him, when she is running an errand to Galactica. Roslin likely thinks her eagerness is because she is sleeping with someone in the military, and would be appalled if she knew whose pale hands, whose greedy mouth are on Tory's body. Tigh turns away at the mention of the Adama name, and Tyrol's eyes narrow. They do not like him—even Sam, who likes everyone, does not like him—and they will not say why.
And then Roslin starts to die, and it is clear that the Quorom is grooming Mr. Lee Adama to be her replacement. The first night he spends on Colonial One, he wakes them all, screaming for Kara Thrace in his sleep. So that explains Anders.
Adama is kind, and competent, and moderately intelligent, and after three days Tory wants him gone as badly as the Galactica did. There is no place for a man like this in politics—still less, at the end of the world. He is too honest, too upright, too unbending. He makes her feel guilty, dirty, broken: like a clockwork toy with springs that have sprung, like a Cylon in hiding.
She goes to bed with him out of self-defense, because she cannot stand his smug self-righteousness any longer. She lies beneath him, dry-eyed, while he fraks her like a launching Viper. He is much warmer against her skin than Gaius Baltar, and much better fed. But he is just as mad, just as desperate, just as pathetic and human. Afterward she does not let him kiss her, and he does not try very hard. Whatever he's looking for, redemption or glory or religion, she isn't it.
She knows now that the other pilots wanted him gone because they couldn't stand serving under a god. He is always right, Lee Adama. He always has to be right. It is no wonder they called him Apollo.
episode tag for "Six of One".
It puzzles Tory in the beginning: they are at war, and Major Adama is a highly decorated officer, an ace pilot, and the son of the Admiral. And yet his colleagues seem willing, even glad to see him go. They throw him parties, they pour him drinks, they clap him on the shoulder, shake his hand, salute him as he goes. They do not whisper about desertion. They do not grumble about nepotism. They do not seem likely to miss him when he goes. Even his wife is smiling. Even his father.
She contrives to ask the others about him, when she is running an errand to Galactica. Roslin likely thinks her eagerness is because she is sleeping with someone in the military, and would be appalled if she knew whose pale hands, whose greedy mouth are on Tory's body. Tigh turns away at the mention of the Adama name, and Tyrol's eyes narrow. They do not like him—even Sam, who likes everyone, does not like him—and they will not say why.
And then Roslin starts to die, and it is clear that the Quorom is grooming Mr. Lee Adama to be her replacement. The first night he spends on Colonial One, he wakes them all, screaming for Kara Thrace in his sleep. So that explains Anders.
Adama is kind, and competent, and moderately intelligent, and after three days Tory wants him gone as badly as the Galactica did. There is no place for a man like this in politics—still less, at the end of the world. He is too honest, too upright, too unbending. He makes her feel guilty, dirty, broken: like a clockwork toy with springs that have sprung, like a Cylon in hiding.
She goes to bed with him out of self-defense, because she cannot stand his smug self-righteousness any longer. She lies beneath him, dry-eyed, while he fraks her like a launching Viper. He is much warmer against her skin than Gaius Baltar, and much better fed. But he is just as mad, just as desperate, just as pathetic and human. Afterward she does not let him kiss her, and he does not try very hard. Whatever he's looking for, redemption or glory or religion, she isn't it.
She knows now that the other pilots wanted him gone because they couldn't stand serving under a god. He is always right, Lee Adama. He always has to be right. It is no wonder they called him Apollo.