shah_of_blah: (kara occupation)
[personal profile] shah_of_blah
Written for [ profile] twelve_colonies ; the challenge was to write something under 500 words from the prompt "white snow."

Title: As the Driven Snow
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: not mine
Characters: Kara, Leoben
Summary: Sometimes it struck her anew, the falseness of this.

Kara woke on New Caprica much the same way she had woken in all the weeks since the Cylons had returned – alert and angry. Right now, she was angry at herself for falling asleep. She pushed up from the couch, massaging the kinks in her neck. The door to the bedroom stood open, though from her position she could only see a bit of the room. She neither saw nor heard Leoben, but she felt certain that he was there. Her moments of privacy—if they were that, if he didn’t have the place wired—were few and far between.

Maybe he was still asleep. That could be promising. He’d locked away the kitchen knives after the last time, and all her attempts to pick the lock had failed, but she’d been steadfastly wearing away at a weak spot near one of the hinges. She was almost there. Risky though. If she wanted this to work, she needed to do it fast.

Blunt objects had been her first instinct, what felt like a millennium ago. But he was too strong, too fast, and it was too hard to catch him unawares long enough to bash his skull in. But if he was asleep? If she was careful?

Her bare feet moved softly, almost silently across the carpet. He was waiting for her. His eyes were closed as he lay flat on his back, chest rising and falling slowly under the thin blanket, his only deference to the planet’s bitter winter. She stood beside the bed for a long moment, studying him. Sometimes it struck her anew, the falseness of this. She flexed her fingers against the handle of the frying pan.

His eyes opened just before the metal hit his temple. But she had calculated correctly, and now his head was twisted on the red-splattered pillow. His mouth was open slightly as though he were about to speak.

Kara let the frying pan fall. She returned to the living area. In his absence, her steps felt lighter and her breath came easier. But she knew that this relief too was false, as false as the body in the bedroom and the words caught unuttered.

She turned to the windows. When Leoben was around, she made a point not to look outside, not to let him know how strongly those windows pulled on her consciousness. There was never anything to see anyway, just Centurions and the occasional skinjob walking around the compound.

Not today. She took several involuntary steps forward when she saw the drifts piled up against the reinforced plexiglass. In all the months she’d lived on New Caprica, it had never snowed. Until today.

She raised one hand to the glass. She was still standing with her hand to the glass when Leoben returned. For a moment, his reflection seemed to come from the other side, another Leoben with damp hair and shadowed eyes lifting his palm to her, dark intentions strung across the gap between them.
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May 2011

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