1Worst Form of Torture
The man muttered to her. "This goes against the Geneva Convention."
Disclaimer: I don't own BSG. But I wish I did.
Pairing: I'm not gonna tell.
He hated this. To him this was the worst form of torture and everybody knew it. Somebody, somewhere was laughing at him. Even Colonel Tigh was probably laughing at him, that one-eyed drunk. He inhaled deeply and breathed out, it was hard to breathe in this thing. He quickly checked himself over to see if he wasn't dreaming or at least having a nightmare. He even pinched himself. "Nope. Not a nightmare." he muttered to himself. He paced the room he was in, back and forth, like a tiger in a cage.
He was conned into this. He summarized as such. He was a dedicated man and here he was, a puppet for the puppet theater. "There's gonna be hell to pay for this one." He grumbled. "I bet it was Starbuck. She likes torturing people. After all, she did torture that Cylon whats-his-face." He muttered to himself again. Even President Roslin was in on it. "Hell, maybe she started this thing. Hiding behind that schoolteacher facade, lurks an evil woman." He said aloud. The only door in the room opened and a Marine stepped in.
"They're waiting for you."
The man nodded and the marine left, leaving the door open. The man felt like he was on trial. As he walked down the corridor on the Galactica, he felt dozens of eyes watching him. He avoided their gaze. He concentrated on his shoes. On second thought, scratch that, he focused on the floor infront of him. He reached the door where his fate from here on out was to be decided, another marine opened the door and stood stoically. "Lucky bastard." the man thought to himself.
As he entered the room, he was met with at least twice as many eyes as he had seen in the corridor. He kept his arms down by his sides, somebody approached him from his right but he was too busy looking at the sea of faces. All eyes were on him. That somebody on his right came right up next to him and placed a somewhat comforting hand on his shoulder. Instantly he felt relaxed, but slightly tense at the same time.
Laura Roslin, ex-schoolteacher and now President of the former 12 Colonies, stood beside a man who had a look on his face like he was being led to the gallows. She was in charge of the whole thing. The man muttered to her. "This goes against the Geneva Convention." Starbuck stood off to the side, a sly grin plastered on her face. Roslin turned to the crowd and announced in a loud voice.
"HERE'S THIS YEAR'S SANTA: ADMIRAL WILLIAM ADAMA!"
All the children infront of the Santa uniformed Admiral cheered as Lee Adama walked up beside him dressed as an elf, dragging Santa's bag. "This was indeed torture." Thought Bill Adama. But he did it for Laura. Because he married her.
Fin.
I know it's very late but the idea just came to me.