My Christmas present to okaynextcrisis. Her prompt was: Meeting each other for the first time, at night, in the woods, while both trying to dispose of their freshly killed corpses.
Merry Christmas to the greatest friend I could ask for!
Laura sighed heavily as she pushed the shovel into the ground.
She had no idea what she was doing. She'd never done anything like this... then again, that was probably a good thing. Committing murder once was enough.
She kept telling herself he deserved it.
Kept telling herself there was no way around it.
There was nothing else she could have done...
"You're going to need a bigger hole than that."
Laura jumped, spinning around to see who had spoken. It was a man. A man with a corpse at his feet.
"You've got to be kidding me," she said.
"Do you need help?" He asked, holding up his own shovel as if to say 'I brought one too!'
"Are you serious?"
He nodded.
"Well, get digging, then." She instructed, giving him a small smirk.
They continued digging in relative silence, the only sound being their shovels scraping the ground.
"I'm Bill. Bill Adama," he said suddenly. Part of her felt reluctant to respond, but then again, what was he going to do, tell on her?
"Laura Roslin. Nice to meet you."
"So... who was he?" Bill asked, motioning toward the body.
"Tom Zarek. A colleague of mine," she paused, unsure of whether to continue or not.
"What happened?"
"We've been butting heads at work for ages, but today it got out of hand," she stopped and closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry. He didn't need to know any more details.
"And you killed him?" He asked, sounding more than a little dumbfounded.
"Don't sound so surprised."
He decided to leave it at that.
"What about yours?" She asked, tilting her head in the direction of the body at his feet.
"Oh, I don't know her. It was just a job," he said casually.
"A job?"
"Yeah. I- I'm a hit man," Bill explained, running a hand through his hair.
"Oh my Gods," she said, shaking her head.
"Not the best line of work, I know."
She decided to leave it at that.
After a substantial amount of digging, followed by the actual burying of the bodies, followed by the planting of grass where the bodies were buried, a handy tip from expert murderer Bill Adama, Laura was exhausted. The sun would be up in an hour or so, which meant they needed to be gone soon.
"How would you like to go for a cup of coffee?" He asked as they packed up their things and headed back to the path they'd strayed from.
"I'd like that very much," she admitted. She never would have thought in a million years she'd get a date out of this.
They were sitting in a coffee shop Laura had never heard of. Normally, she wouldn't have agreed to any of this, but she was trying to convince herself this was all a dream she was going to wake up from, and surely dream Laura could handle getting a cup of coffee with a hit man... couldn't she?
"Do you mind if I ask, what exactly happened with your coworker?" He hadn't planned on asking, he really was going to leave it... he just couldn't help himself.
"We were having an argument and it spiraled out of control." She stated simply, sipping her coffee and avoiding eye contact.
I think I'd like to wake up now.
"Out of control how?"
"He assaulted me. I'm sorry, but I'd rather not go into detail, if you don't mind," she shuddered.
"Of course." He nodded, giving her what he hoped was a comforting smile.
"So, how exactly does one become a hit man?" She asked, abruptly changing the subject.
"Why, are you looking for a career change?"
She, quite unexpectedly, laughed. Coffee sprayed everywhere. After composing herself, and wiping down the table with her spare napkin, she was able to answer.
"No, one murder was more than enough for me."
He laughed, a full and honest kind of laugh that hadn't escaped him in Gods knew how long.
"I didn't choose this line of work. It's complicated..." He trailed off, not sure how to proceed.
"You don't have to tell me anything else, really. I shouldn't have asked." She smiled apologetically.
"Maybe I'll tell you some other time."
"Some other time?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, it isn't really a first date kind of conversation, is it?" He asked with a smirk.
"Oh no, definitely not. More of a fifth or sixth date conversation, I'd say." She smirked back.
"We'll have to get on the, then."
"Yes, we will."