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crack_van2007-08-16 11:53 am
ficwize.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2007-08-16 11:53 am
Entry tags:
Aphrodite Moon by ingrid_m (R)
Fandom: BATTLESTAR GALACTICA 2003
Pairing: Gaeta/Callie
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ingrid_m
Author Website: FF.net site here.
Why this must be read:
This is a well written piece of old-school BSG fic. It's still BSG 2003, but it was written back when the audience, and the survivors, didn't know what was what. Or should I say who was what…
This is a fantastic look at how hard it must have been in those first few months to trust people, to trust yourself, to find a way to release all that stress…
I love this fic. It really takes me back to that part of BSG where every revelation was a punch in the gut and it captures that spirit admirably.
Enjoy!
Author's Summary: There are no ranks here ... only music in the air.
It took him a while to find "12H". The twelfth level ended in "G", which, of course, was just his luck but with some searching he found an attachment to the laundry that could have qualified as an "H" had anyone ever bothered to map it as such.
To his surprise, an out-of-uniform marine was standing there, discreetly blocking the door's almost hidden entrance. "Hey, lieutenant."
"Hey," he replied noncommittally. "What's up?"
"The usual crap." The marine stared out somewhere past Gaeta's shoulder.
It took him a minute but finally Gaeta recovered the presence of mind to pull out the card and show it to the man. "Don't suppose I can get some shirts done tonight?"
The marine looked at him carefully, then took the card and placed it in his pants pocket. "Not a problem. But you should know ..." He leaned in close. "There's no rank in here. No rank, no drugs, no trouble. What goes on in here ..."
"Stays in here. I get it."
"Then take off your perks," the marine said, referring to Gaeta's symbols of rank. "And don't talk about them, at all. That's the most important thing."
With a shrug, Gaeta pulled the small pinned insignias from his lapel and cuffs. He stuffed them in his pocket. "Am I presentable now?"
"More or less," the marine snorted. He pushed open the door behind him, just a crack. "Have fun."
"I'll try." He prepared himself for a letdown, since these private parties never lived up to his fevered imagination, but when he entered the room ...
It was astonishing.
Someone had the balls to turn a section of the Galactica into a Caprican easyspeak, complete with hundreds of tiny shimmer lights decorating the walls, intimate candle-lit tables and pillow-strewn lounges, all of it gleaned from gods knew where.
Aphrodite Moon
Pairing: Gaeta/Callie
Author on LJ:
ingrid_mAuthor Website: FF.net site here.
Why this must be read:
This is a well written piece of old-school BSG fic. It's still BSG 2003, but it was written back when the audience, and the survivors, didn't know what was what. Or should I say who was what…
This is a fantastic look at how hard it must have been in those first few months to trust people, to trust yourself, to find a way to release all that stress…
I love this fic. It really takes me back to that part of BSG where every revelation was a punch in the gut and it captures that spirit admirably.
Enjoy!
Author's Summary: There are no ranks here ... only music in the air.
It took him a while to find "12H". The twelfth level ended in "G", which, of course, was just his luck but with some searching he found an attachment to the laundry that could have qualified as an "H" had anyone ever bothered to map it as such.
To his surprise, an out-of-uniform marine was standing there, discreetly blocking the door's almost hidden entrance. "Hey, lieutenant."
"Hey," he replied noncommittally. "What's up?"
"The usual crap." The marine stared out somewhere past Gaeta's shoulder.
It took him a minute but finally Gaeta recovered the presence of mind to pull out the card and show it to the man. "Don't suppose I can get some shirts done tonight?"
The marine looked at him carefully, then took the card and placed it in his pants pocket. "Not a problem. But you should know ..." He leaned in close. "There's no rank in here. No rank, no drugs, no trouble. What goes on in here ..."
"Stays in here. I get it."
"Then take off your perks," the marine said, referring to Gaeta's symbols of rank. "And don't talk about them, at all. That's the most important thing."
With a shrug, Gaeta pulled the small pinned insignias from his lapel and cuffs. He stuffed them in his pocket. "Am I presentable now?"
"More or less," the marine snorted. He pushed open the door behind him, just a crack. "Have fun."
"I'll try." He prepared himself for a letdown, since these private parties never lived up to his fevered imagination, but when he entered the room ...
It was astonishing.
Someone had the balls to turn a section of the Galactica into a Caprican easyspeak, complete with hundreds of tiny shimmer lights decorating the walls, intimate candle-lit tables and pillow-strewn lounges, all of it gleaned from gods knew where.
Aphrodite Moon