A:N This is a very short piece. A little trip inside Starbuck's head. Probably set before the "Unfinished Business" ep. I couldn't resist.
First time to write her.
Kara stalked over to the heavy bag, her blonde hair lank and sweaty around her face.Green eyes hooded and searching.
She could feel the cool droplets beginning at the base of her neck and she lifted her shoulders blithely. The room was
awash in movement and sound. The bag swung left then right, still reeling from the barrage. She lifted one gloved hand to her
cheek, swiping inarticulately at the sheen of perspiration. Her other hand was coiled in a tight fist inside the glove.
She could feel the clammy skin of her palm scraping against the worn insulation.
Starbuck.
The call sign. The identity.
It rolled around inside her skull as her feet moved quickly in a rhythmic shuffle around the circumference of the bag.
She muttered the word quietly under her breath, expelling everything bitter and repressed and decayed with the air that left her lungs.
Starbuck.
As she circled the bag with that old predatory glint in her eye she felt herself moving back into the shell.
It could encompass her again if she let it.
She felt the sweat oozing in little rivulets into the clumped, bare wool of the glove and she smiled. Feral and hard.
Irresistably.
She heard someone behind her shout. Someone told her to hurry up. Kat.
Starbuck circled the bag again and drove a beautiful, near-perfect combination into the bag.
She caught Kat's eye. Flashed her one hell of a toothy, insolent grin.
Pointed, sparkling teeth flashed under the flickering fluorescents.
Come over here and frakking move me off this bag, Kat. Do it. She smirked. It felt pleasant and foreign on her face.
Starbuck circled again, turned her back on Kat. She sensed a shift. A smell of indecision in the air.
If nothing else, Starbuck craved the unexpected.
Starbuck loved a turn of the tide.