You Never Do Know


Sheba pushed golden hair away from those so-blue eyes and, very gently, kissed an eyelid, running the tip of her tongue along the nose and then claiming the mouth that opened so willingly to hers. Never had kisses been so sweet, so intoxicating. Not the few stolen here and there on the Pegasus, in defiance of her father; not those claimed more openly on the Galactica from the man Cain had wanted her to marry, the man she'd thought she'd wanted.

Hands closed on her shoulders, pulling her closer, and she went eagerly, wishing she could meld their bodies together, sink inside the other, become one. Apollo's hands had never felt like this. There'd always been a sense of something missing. In him, she'd thought, had tried harder, had gotten angry, and then had felt lacking. But now, oh gods, now she knew what had been missing before. Who... She moved her head, kissing the throat laid bare and offered to her lips, and heard a moan of pleasure. Just for a moment, she wasn't even sure who was moaning.

"Sheba. Oh, gods, Sheba..." the voice sighed in her ear. She shivered. That voice... how long had she told herself she hated it? Hated it for calling his name, taking him away from her without a backward glance. And all along, it wasn't the voice, it was only what it was saying. Who it was saying it to. And how long had it taken her to understand herself?

That argument they'd had—was it only a secton ago? It seemed much longer, and much less at once, the time had been so sweetly spent—but no, be honest, Sheba: that fight, that bitter wrangle. She blushed to remember how she'd behaved, how they both had. Shouting things, screaming them in voices hoarse with rage, and then, suddenly, physical violence. That body, this body, so familiar, so often seen, a shadow at his side, under her hands at last and then... like lightning from a clear sky, knowledge struck them both down and they were kissing with frantic passion, hands ripping at uniform fastenings, and the fire in their blood blazing up to consume them both regardless of the cost. Despite knowing that things would never, could never, be the same again. For anyone.

And in the aftermath, lying on tangled brown uniforms, neither of them had wanted things to be the same. No matter what Apollo, or anyone, thought.

Sheba paused on her way down the beautiful body under hers, the one she was trying to memorize even though she'd have, with luck, a lifetime to learn it, and chuckled.

A tug on her hair. "What's the joke?"

"If Apollo could see me now," she said.

"I'm glad he can't. I don't perform for audiences."

Sheba kissed away the tiny hurt she might, just might, have heard. "Of course not," she said. "But still..."

"But still. Don't stop."

So Sheba didn't. And in the afterglow, playing with her long brown hair, Cassie said, "Don't worry about Apollo. He's got Starbuck to fall back on, after all."

Sheba raised her head and looked into those beautiful blue eyes, all soft with love for her, and said, "You mean?"

"Starbuck wants it," Cassie answered, drifting a finger down Sheba's cheek. "And you never know, after all."

"No," Sheba agreed, nestling against Cassie's breasts and sighing in contentment. "You never do know."

the end


Original Fantasy:
  Autumn Afternoon | Ilya's Wedding | Something... | Last Corner | Morgans
Original Fan Fiction
Star Wars | Power Rangers | Real Ghostbusters
Battlestar Galactica | The A Team
Space 1999 | Alias Smith and Jones | Jurassic Park III
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