Written for the multi-ship war at bsg epics on livejournal a few weeks ago, but for some reason never posted on (I think I forgot.)
Dislaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to the creators of Battlestar Galactica.
It's almost like a dance.
No, actually, it is a dance.
There's no real logic behind it, no choreography that guides them. It's strange and maddening and yet, at the same time, oddly thrilling. There is no way that Laura will ever, ever be able to walk away from this. It's a part of her now, there is no denying it. (Though she does, to anyone else, should they ever ask about this, which they do not.) She leads, mostly, with determination and strength, sometimes he manages to wrangle the lead from her – always by some ulterior motive. But they're always doing it, with each other, against each other, one leading the other, on a merry dance across the entire fleet.
They've been doing that for years now.
So really when the moment came – not that she ever expected it would – it should really have come as no surprise to her that Zarek was a wonderful dancer. She thinks, she's not sure, but she thinks, that she should have seen that coming. Somehow.
They should not be doing this.
Someone could see them.
And there is no way that she would ever be able to explain this. She can't explain it to herself, one minute they were talking – for once not arguing – and the next he'd taken her hand and they'd started dancing. (He'll be staying here tonight, she knows that too. Nothing will happen, of that she will make sure, but it's too late to leave and no raptor will take him now.)
She feels safe in his arms.
Loved.
It won't last, it can't last.
Tomorrow they'll go back to who they've always been, they'll go back to who they'll always be. She'll be the president and he'll be the pain in her ass that wants to change everything but can't find a way to do it. She'll lead him, like always, and he'll attempt to wrangle the lead from her. They'll continue their merry dance until one of them dies, of this Laura is sure.
But for now they'll stay here, slowly dancing in each others arms, to an old song that is slowly fading away.