Author Challenge Round 1: Old Hollywood

[kag523.livejournal.com]

The following authors have been writing for the BSG fandom for many years.  (In fact, while checking dates, I discovered that Lotus79’s livejournal goes back before the turn of the century!)  I’m sure many of us cut our fanfic teeth on the stories written by these authors.  The question is, do you know them well enough to pick up the clues in their writing? 

Take a few minutes to enjoy these AMAZING snippets of fic... then go on to guess, argue, and figure out who wrote WHAT.

 

Authors:
amidala_thrace 

tamsibling 

lotus79 

uberscribbler [Unknown site tag]

 

Selection A:

To her shame, there had been many times that Dee had wished Kara Thrace were just gone. Perhaps then her marriage would have a chance. Perhaps then the man she loved would love her equally in return.

Ironically, it wasn’t until Starbuck died that Dee realised Lee Adama would always belong to Kara Thrace.

She wondered what he’d look like now if she had died instead of Kara. Would he be as broken? He would grieve, she knew. He did love her, did try to be faithful and honest and what she wanted but his heart was always somewhere else.

With someone else.

 

Selection B:

When he wakes, it’s before sunrise. A narrow strip of gray along the horizon signals dawn’s arrival. Still a couple hours off by the looks of it.

Lee doesn’t recall his eyes closing. Not exactly, anyway. He remembers embracing her again after they shouted their love to the skies. He remembers kissing her, not just on her lips but everywhere else too, bringing her off with mouth and tongue and the slightest hint of teeth. He remembers her face as she came. He remembers lying next to her, Kara’s wicked smile when she threw one leg over his and pulled him close again.

He must have fallen asleep still half-hard inside her.

Gently he eases away and guides her head down to his chest.

Lee tries to imagine more nights like this. He can’t, not really, because having her, actually having her,  has been a concept far beyond his reach for so long. Too damn many things getting in the way. It’s his fault just as much as it’s hers. Maybe more.

But tonight they promised. He doesn’t know how much that promise will mean to her. It could mean everything, or nothing, or something in between. It means something to him. Not just the words but what they’d done before they said them. That wasn’t a drunken almost-frak on a table, or Kara just wanting a good lay. That was …

Lee hesitates. But no. It’s true.

That was making love.

He hadn’t believed she could be that way, somehow. Tender wasn’t a word he’d associated with Kara Thrace. She’d proven she was, though. Riding him slowly, the way he liked it, before they both shuddered in climax. She wanted him to be happy.

Lee knows all hell’s going to break loose tomorrow. There’s no hiding from that fact. He also knows he should be mentally plotting out, even now, what he’s going to say to Dee. How he’s going to let her down easy.  If there is a way of letting her down easy. Probably there isn’t. So maybe there’s no point coming up with a script.

He can’t concentrate, anyway, not with the wind flicking Kara’s hair lightly against his chest. He loves this woman, loves her unconditionally, and the only thing headier than that knowledge is the understanding that she loves him that way too.

They’ll have a future together. Lee doesn’t know what form it will take. With him on Pegasus and her having mustered out, it’s bound to be complicated. But surely it can’t be any more complicated than existing apart, with feelings unacknowledged.

He hugs her one last time, and shuts his eyes.

He’s ready.

***

When she wakes, the sun is shining. Not brightly, but enough to see by. That’s how Kara sees her new position curled up next to him, cheek on his chest.

That’s how she sees the scar.

It’s not that evident anymore. A regular person would probably miss it even if they were looking for it. The mark is a thin red line, but to Kara it stands out vivid as a signpost.

 Remember this?

Remember what you did to him? 

Kind of screwed up, really. The scar should be more vivid for all the pain it must have caused him.

You killed his brother.

How long before you do the same to him?

Carefully she rises. The last thing she wants to do is wake him.

She feels stiff and sore and sticky. Reminders of the good things that happened last night.

Can’t think about those.

Kara backs away, slowly.

Collects her clothes and dresses.

Almost loses her nerve but glances at the scar again and —

No other frakkin’ way.

Deliberately Kara turns.

Looks back toward the settlement.

She’s ready.

 

Selection C:

Kara was in trouble.

Lee had told himself he didn’t care—he shouldn’t care—but as the weeks following the exodus passed, he knew something was wrong with her.

She was vulnerable, contrary to popular belief; she did feel things and she felt them deeply. Lee had firsthand knowledge of course, being the one who’d held her up following Zak’s death; being the one who’d forced her to finally admit she loved him under the New Caprican sky.

The memory was so sharp Lee was forced to stop, gripping the nearest bulkhead for support. How he’d hated her that next morning; how he’d hated her for the entire eighteen months they’d been on New Caprica; how he’d hated her during the four months they’d planned the return and rescue.

How he’d hated her until he’d seen her step off the Raptor, with a blonde-haired child in her arms. How he’d hated her until he’d witnessed another woman rush forward to pull the kid away from Kara, who simply stood there dumbfounded. How he’d hated her until he’d watched her push Sam away and stand there, all alone, looking absolutely lost.

Lee couldn’t muster the energy to hate her anymore. Not now, when they were so firmly back in each other’s orbits, her on the flight roster and acting like his hotshot, problem pilot, and him her CAG once again, giving her orders she rarely followed. But despite the severe dislike he had for her bouts of insubordination, and her damn kissable lips, he couldn’t hate her. Especially not when he could see her heading for a meltdown; especially not when he knew she drank herself into a stupor most nights, sleeping anywhere but in her bunk with her husband.

 

Selection D:

My life is nothing but war now, just as its always been.  War against toasters and skinjobs and hunger and boredom and despair, all of which threaten to kill me.  So I fight each and every one.  Its also a war against the weak and the greedy and the foolish and the fanatic among my fellow humans, all of which threaten to kill what little is left of our worlds.  So I fight each and every one.  Its also a war against those I love, and who love me back, because I can't ever allow that love to touch me or it will change me.  It would change me, and change my life into something other than the war I've known all my life.  I can't allow that, not now, not ever.  And so I do what I've always done and all I know how to do: I fight.

 

 

Comments

[kag523.livejournal.com]

*rolls eyes* And YET yours is after hers. *grins*

[thegreenkitty.livejournal.com]

Pffft, that's just cuz Tara is super speedy. I wrote mine on a sheet of paper before posting...but the last three all ended up right behind Tara. (And I guess it doesn't help my case that I was lost on Old Hollywood and not so great w/ Cult Classics either...which were the only two I didn't post before Tara. LOL.)