Meep! Okay I'm not too sure about this, it could probably be better but here ya go!
Kara Thrace has always had her share of vices, but food was never one of them. Sex? Booze? Danger? That was another story.
But now, on Earth, her wings hung up for good, she walks in the garden behind the house and picks blueberries off the bushes.
She loves the way they pop in her mouth when they're not too ripe, the sour sweet taste of them, the traces of blue they leave on her lips and fingers, the feel of their fallen comrades squishing beneath her bare feet, leaving marks on the wooden steps of the back deck when she goes in for the night.
It's the one thing she indulges in.
Leoben smiles, chopping vegetables at the counter. "You keep that up there won't be any left for pie."
"Keep what up?" she says innocently and laughs when he reaches for her hand, kissing the stains on her fingertips.
"You used to be a better liar," he says. But that's not really true. Kara's still an expert storyteller, perhaps with everybody save for Leoben. Because now, they live in secret, and they both tell lies daily. They have to. They'd be dead otherwise.
During the day they drive the hour into town, shop for groceries and pretend that they're just like everybody else. But at night, back at their house, when they make love, they look at each other and know exactly who they are.
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Kara Thrace has always had her share of vices, but food was never one of them. Sex? Booze? Danger? That was another story.
But now, on Earth, her wings hung up for good, she walks in the garden behind the house and picks blueberries off the bushes.
She loves the way they pop in her mouth when they're not too ripe, the sour sweet taste of them, the traces of blue they leave on her lips and fingers, the feel of their fallen comrades squishing beneath her bare feet, leaving marks on the wooden steps of the back deck when she goes in for the night.
It's the one thing she indulges in.
Leoben smiles, chopping vegetables at the counter. "You keep that up there won't be any left for pie."
"Keep what up?" she says innocently and laughs when he reaches for her hand, kissing the stains on her fingertips.
"You used to be a better liar," he says. But that's not really true. Kara's still an expert storyteller, perhaps with everybody save for Leoben. Because now, they live in secret, and they both tell lies daily. They have to. They'd be dead otherwise.
During the day they drive the hour into town, shop for groceries and pretend that they're just like everybody else. But at night, back at their house, when they make love, they look at each other and know exactly who they are.