A/N: Just watched KLGI again. This one struck me like an eighteen wheeler made of lightning who was also a professional boxer (tips hat to Penny Arcade). Anyways, enjoy the different fare.
She was running. She knew she'd catch him eventually, catch him soon. She was stronger, faster. He was wounded, lost.
Sharon Valerii was running.
She had to catch up. Catch him before...before...she could hear him. Just around the corner, his limp, labored breathing. No Cylon would ever make those noises like he did. Sharp memories came back to her as she slowed to a walk, revolver up.
"Stop! Don't come any closer."
He had his own gun up, pointed at her. She holstered the heavy thing, took a step forwards with with her hands just above her waist. She stared at it, and stared, and stared. His gaze was steeled. She could see his jaw clench. See the revulsion in his eyes. It at cut at her, slashed in that moment they locked eyes. After days of tracking him, trying to keep the centurions off of him, trying to keep him alive...
After all time they spent, the emotion, the passion...
He was willing to kill her. He was willing to end her existence, as far as he understood it. Give her Final Death. The realization struck her, and she barely held back tears. She heard herself voice the admission. Her shoulders went limp, defeated.
"Just do it."
She watched him watch her. Watched him fight himself. Watched him try to come to terms with his own emotions. It was agony. Or she thought it was, until he pulled the trigger. The report was thunderous, and then she was very suddenly sprawled across the steps of the building, staring at a grey sky. Flames roared through her nerves, radiating from her collarbone.
The worst part was...she wasn't dead. She rolled over, looked at the ground, struggled not to vomit. Flopped onto her back like a fish too long out of water. He was there. Eyes struggling to hate. The gun wavered over her heart, her broken heart. She couldn't help what she was. the barrel wavered, and she begged him silently to end her suffering.
The gun came down, went back into his holster. There was no mercy for her.