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Jumping in on the alphabet meme. And if someone prompts me with "v is for vuvuzela", I will totally write that!
A-
B-
C- is for Crash, Racetrack and Skulls
D-
E-
F-
G-
H-
I-
J-
K- is for Kittens on Galactica
L-
M-
N-
O-
P-
Q- Queen, Dee
R-
S-
T-
U-
V- is for vuvuzela, Sam Anders
W- Water, Gaeta/Hoshi
X-
Y-
Z-
A-
B-
C- is for Crash, Racetrack and Skulls
D-
E-
F-
G-
H-
I-
J-
K- is for Kittens on Galactica
L-
M-
N-
O-
P-
Q- Queen, Dee
R-
S-
T-
U-
V- is for vuvuzela, Sam Anders
W- Water, Gaeta/Hoshi
X-
Y-
Z-
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As chance would have it, there had been not one, but two cats left in the Colonial Fleet as of the attack on the Colonies. There were now eight.
This fact had been discovered on board Galactica when, after two ships were lost on the way to the algae planet, the hangar decks were suddenly crowded with civilians, and a young girl had shown up with one cat and a basketful of kittens. All sense of decorum was quickly lost.
“I’d love to take one home, but I think Nicky is still too young to have a pet around,” said Cally, although the look in here eyes indicated she would have a hard time parting with the soft furry creatures.
“Do you think Hera is too young yet?” asked Sharon, picking up a white and tan speckled one. “I think a kitten might be a good way to get her to open up a little. Helo and I still seem a little scary to her, but kittens are pretty non-threatening and easy to share affection with.”
“I think that’s a great idea!” said Dee. “You should run it by Helo, I’m sure he’d be okay with it.”
Once the girl had announced the kittens were up for adoption, duty was suddenly the last thing on anyone’s mind. The fact that the colonial military had strict regulations against having animals on board battlestars didn’t stop anyone from partitioning out kittens. Racetrack had already taken one, after she’d called first dibs for helping the young girl aboard the ship.
Helo, noticing the patrol squad was doing anything but, decided to come over and investigate. “Now ladies, what are we up to—awwwwwww!” His determination to put people back to work didn’t last long. “Where did these come from?”
“Some cat belonging to this guy with sunglasses got a hold of Midnight on New Caprica,” explained the young girl, who was holding onto a black cat much larger than the rest. “I can’t take care of them all, so they’re free if anyone wants one.”
“Sharon-“ said Helo. “Are we taking one home?”
“Yes….” replied Sharon, hesitantly.
Helo grinned. “Good. I bet Hera’s going to love it.”
Two kittens sold.
“I don’t know if I can covince Lee as easily,” said Dee sadly.
“Lee? He’s probably allergic,” replied Cally. “Get Gaeta a kitten. That man needs something cute and fuzzy in his life.”
“Cally,” said Dee with a smile, “you are a genius.”
Felix got off duty that evening with every intention of napping right away. Unfortunately, his bunk happened to be occupied by something small, black, and furry.
“Dee,” he said, just knowing she was behind this. “Why is there a kitten in my bunk?”
“Isn’t it cute?” cooed Dee. “Cally and I thought we should get you one. Her name is Mittens.”
“Mittens?”
“She’s got little white paws, see?” said Dee, coming over to join him.
“Dee, I don’t know if I can keep a pet. I mean, I work pretty much all day, I don’t know how I’m supposed to…do whatever you’re supposed to do with cats,” replied Felix.
“But how can you say no to something so adorable?”
The kitten mewed at him. Okay, Dee was right. ‘Dammit,’ thought Felix.
“Well…” started Felix. Then an idea popped into his head. “What would you do for me if I kept it and let you have visiting privileges?”
“Right now?” asked Dee. “A day’s leave- for both you and Hoshi.”
Felix considered the offer. “Two days?”
“Done.”
Felix smiled. “Mittens, I think this is going to be the start of something beautiful.”
Mittens mewed.
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I love this. I am also brain fudge right now, because Dee cooing over kittens and Felix's baffled love for it is so cute.
(Also, Lance ♥)
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*dies laughing*
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Q is for Queen, Dee
W is for Water, Gaeta/Hoshi (if you'd like to do it in your Cylon!Felix 'verse, I certainly wouldn't object... ;))
(And I promise I'll get back to filling my prompts someday when I come home from work not half brain dead)
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R is for Ring, Gaeta/Hoshi
C is for Crash, Racetrack and Skulls
V is for vuvuzela
Sam blew his vuvuzela loudly.
“I swear to gods, Sam, blow that thing again, and I will kill you,” threatened Kara.
“Aw, c’mon,” said Sam, playfully whacking her on the arm, “you just need to get into the spirit.” Sam tipped his vuvuzela up to blow on it again, but Kara snatched it out of his hand.
“I can kick your ass.”
“Fine,” said Sam, eyeing the vuvuzela and plotting a way to get it back. “Can I at least have some of that tan hooch?”
“It’s called beer, you ass. Here.”
Sam took the beer from Kara and took a swig. It was a quick swig though, because his team made a great steal and, being vuvuzela-less, he needed to cheer.
“Why are we rooting for Portugal again?” Kara asked.
“Because they have maroon uniforms like the C-Bucs.” He’d pick his real team later, once he understood the game a little better. Thankfully he’d gotten lucky that this team wasn’t all that bad.
“Sammy, you’re a simple man.”
“You woudn’t have it any other way. Can I have my vuvuzela back?”
“No.”
As luck should have it, Portugal picked that exact moment to score. Sam would’ve used the moment to rave about what a great shot it was, because while he knew little about soccer, he could tell a good play when he saw one, but the opportunity was simply golden. When Kara threw her arms in the air, Sam snatched the vuvuzela from her hands. Sam gave a celebratory toot for both Portugal and himself.
“Wwwwwwww”
The sound of success.
End of Line (aka I fix Daybreak)
“Break left!” Racetrack yelled, as she realized the asteroid was not about to divert from their path.
The raptor veered left, but not soon enough to avoid the asteroid completely. The ship jerked, indicating they’d been hit. Then the censors went off.
“Frak me!” shouted Racetrack. “Our landing gear is ruined. Marine squad, you can forget about getting into the Colony now.”
“Any way to fix it?” asked Skulls.
“Not unless you feel like taking a space walk in this,” replied Racetrack. Given the rate of asteroids flying by their heads, that would be a no. This might have been a suicide mission, but it didn’t have to be futile.
“We should probably turn off those nukes then. We’re going to have to make a crash landing on Galactica, and I’d rather not blow the old bucket up in the process,” said Skulls, reaching for the button that controlled the nukes.
Racetrack stopped him. “Keep em hot.” She’d been considering something like this since they’d gotten word of the mission. Any return to Galactica meant a return to prison, leading a miserable life while the toasters ran things around the fleet. This was her last chance to do something that was going to mean anything in their now futile existance. No way she was going to let it slip by.
Skulls gave her a puzzled look, or at least that what she assumed he was doing, since she was still watching for asteroids. “Admiral said this was a suicide mission, right? Well, that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
Racetrack could hear protesting from the marines, but she didn’t give a damn about them. They weren’t the ones trying to pilot a broken ship. She also outranked them all, so the tactical decisions were hers.
“What are you saying?” asked Skulls.
“Once Galactica jumps out of here, or we get the signal that the mission’s failed, we’re going to crash this raptor into the Colony and blow those toasters straight to hell.”
“You think it’s gonna work?” asked Skulls.
“Damn well better,” said Racetrack. “We’ve got six nukes, and if the cylons have got any, it’ll set off a chain reaction. Toasters won’t even have time to kiss their asses goodbye.”
“Your call lieutenant. Nukes are hot and ready to go.”
Skulls made the call into Galactica to inform them of the plan, while Racetrack bided her time avoiding another hit that might frak up her plan. She supposed her life should be flashing before her eyes, or whatever it was that happened right before you knew you were going to die. But she’d always flown as a dead man walking, and now that she actually was, it didn’t seem to make a difference. Besides, she was about to get what she had always wanted: to die a hero.