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bantha_fodderThe Wreck Keeps Running, by Pen.
A BSG/The Pretender crossover, rated PG.
Miss Parker and Jarod in space, at the end of the world.
Beta by my girl K.
From two stalls over she hears his voice, and when she turns, the curl of his hair is unfamiliar. He's let it grow. He looks up, holds up a hand in half a greeting, and offers a mouthed 'Parker.' She has never asked him to stay the same, but fuck if she's letting him change this.
She leaps over a chair, hand reaching for the gun that she no longer carries. He swivels and runs; no apologies to the stall owner he had to leave mid-haggle, and she marks which stall it is in case she needs to question the stall owner later. Not that she's going to lose him this time, and she chases him outside.
Outside is relative now, of course it is, but the lawns of Cloud Nine are dark and the air is cool against her skin. A hand wraps around her wrist and she is pushed against a tree. The bark scratches her: she thinks that nature is annoying until she remembers it's just shoddy workmanship.
"Why are you doing this?" His face is twisted in emotions she can't read, and his breath is hot on her face.
"You run, I chase," she says simply. Throws in a shrug for good measure, like it doesn't matter.
"But they're dead now. Everyone's dead! It doesn't matter what we do!"
"It matters to me," she says. "Now let go of me."
His grip tightens. "It's the end of the world, Parker. Leave me alone."
"It's the end of the world, Jarod," she mimics, then frowns. "I'm not sure I can."
He releases her wrists, like her admission stung him.
It probably has, and she wonders at herself.
She shoves him away and runs, and cannot hear his footsteps behind her.
She knows better than to look.
*
The next time they meet, it's daylight, and from a distance, he hunches: looks trapped and hunted.
From a distance, he watches the meet and greet of the delegates.
"No urge to change the world?" she whispers over his shoulder, and resists the urge to brush his hair behind his ears. She thinks maybe he's let himself go since she saw him last, before the end of the world.
"I can change the world without politics," he replies, and walks away.
He doesn't look back, either.
*
Parker volunteers to teach a a dozen teenagers.
Roslin may be president, but she still keeps a keen eye on the ins and outs of schooling in the fleet, and she listens to Parker's credentials seriously. But Parker lies, and there are no records to prove otherwise, so she teaches maths to kids who are just old enough for her to tolerate.
She's pretty sure the fleet doesn't need her other skills, and she knows how to manipulate people, so.
She does not teach because she wants to pass on her knowledge, though, and she does not teach because she wants the children to learn. She teaches because if her crime was being from the Centre, and the Cylons spared her, she is sure there were others who were spared whose intentions would not be so noble.
From here, she watches the children, and watches those who watch them, and her hand flexes for her gun.
*
She's bored when she sees him next, and chases him for the hell of it.
*
Through the corridors he runs, and out into the garden. It's night, and he hides in the darkness. As she runs past, he pushes her against a tree, her wrists gripped in his hands.
They are as fragile as he remembers, and he feels her struggling.
"What's the point?" he yells, and he knows he sounds unhinged. Worried.
Normal.
"Get your hands off me," she hisses, voice low.
"What is the point?" he repeats. "The Centre is gone."
"The Centre is never gone," she replies, and pushes him weakly away.
He lets her, and they stand there in silence.
In the dark.
When she turns, he follows her, and it's just like always.
*
The wireless in Jarod's room plays constantly, and he follows the trails where they lead.
*
He sits on the floor, papers spread all around. "What are you doing?" she asks.
"This girl is missing," he says.
"There are a lot of girls missing," says Parker, more flippantly than she feels. Hand flexes for the cigarettes off which she never quite weaned herself.
"This one only since yesterday," says Jarod, and Parker squats beside him until he starts to speak.
*
Parker finds the girl first.
It's not a competition.
*
When Roslin tries to meet them, to thank them for their good work, Jarod declines. He thinks about moving to get away from Roslin's attention: curls the instinct into his gut and swallows.
There's nowhere to go, and besides, Parker always hated running.
*
She steps out of the bathroom, a towel rubbing her hair dry, and stops short. "What are you doing?" she asks.
He shrugs from his bed on the floor, all the best pillows and the warmest blanket. "I'm giving the space to someone who needs it," he says. "Too many crowded rooms. I'm good here. I know you don't snore."
"How altruistic of you," she replies sharply.
She knows what he's doing.
She doesn't stop him.
*
She taps at the paper under her hand. "What are you doing?" he asks.
"Helping," she says, and does not look at him.
He listens to her breathing until her hand stretches out, paper in her palm. An offering. "What the fuck does this say?" she asks.
He does not smile.
*
He wakes from dreams of L.E.D.s and drills held inside his head. Hold still, says Raines. This is for your own good, Jarod, says Sydney, hands full of pills. Angelo dances, wears a silly hat.
Her hand is on his shoulder. "Shut up, lab rat," she mumbles into her pillow.
"Sometimes," he says. Hopes she's asleep. "I know why they did it."
"Did what?" she asks.
"Why they came back. Why the Cylons came back and killed everyone."
"If this is some fucked up thing where you empathise with them because they were created to help people and got totally fucked over, and I am missing out on sleep for this-"
He sits up. Brings his head equal to hers. "They were created by us," he spits. "By the Centre! Can't you see it?"
"There are other organisations out there," she says, the past tense forgotten in her need to be blind to her father's faults.
Jarod is not so blind. "They were created to help humanity. To work harder and faster and more accurately, and when that experiment failed, they moved on to a new experiment. A better experiment." He frowns. "One they could have more control over."
"They would not," she says.
"They did," he replies, "And I'm glad they're dead."
"You are not," she sneers. "You couldn't hurt a fly."
One motion and he's standing, towering over her. "I did!" he yells, and it's almost crying. "I could!" He takes a step away. "I have."
She blinks at him, and her voice is quiet. "I know," she says. Palms down on the bedspread, and it's like calming a wild animal.
He kisses her, and when he bites her lips she scratches her nails down his back. He feels the skin tear, and he thinks, this is what I deserve.
He is more than his creators could have hoped for.
He is not a Cylon.
He is human.
*
She is not.
END
\o/
A BSG/The Pretender crossover, rated PG.
Miss Parker and Jarod in space, at the end of the world.
Beta by my girl K.
From two stalls over she hears his voice, and when she turns, the curl of his hair is unfamiliar. He's let it grow. He looks up, holds up a hand in half a greeting, and offers a mouthed 'Parker.' She has never asked him to stay the same, but fuck if she's letting him change this.
She leaps over a chair, hand reaching for the gun that she no longer carries. He swivels and runs; no apologies to the stall owner he had to leave mid-haggle, and she marks which stall it is in case she needs to question the stall owner later. Not that she's going to lose him this time, and she chases him outside.
Outside is relative now, of course it is, but the lawns of Cloud Nine are dark and the air is cool against her skin. A hand wraps around her wrist and she is pushed against a tree. The bark scratches her: she thinks that nature is annoying until she remembers it's just shoddy workmanship.
"Why are you doing this?" His face is twisted in emotions she can't read, and his breath is hot on her face.
"You run, I chase," she says simply. Throws in a shrug for good measure, like it doesn't matter.
"But they're dead now. Everyone's dead! It doesn't matter what we do!"
"It matters to me," she says. "Now let go of me."
His grip tightens. "It's the end of the world, Parker. Leave me alone."
"It's the end of the world, Jarod," she mimics, then frowns. "I'm not sure I can."
He releases her wrists, like her admission stung him.
It probably has, and she wonders at herself.
She shoves him away and runs, and cannot hear his footsteps behind her.
She knows better than to look.
*
The next time they meet, it's daylight, and from a distance, he hunches: looks trapped and hunted.
From a distance, he watches the meet and greet of the delegates.
"No urge to change the world?" she whispers over his shoulder, and resists the urge to brush his hair behind his ears. She thinks maybe he's let himself go since she saw him last, before the end of the world.
"I can change the world without politics," he replies, and walks away.
He doesn't look back, either.
*
Parker volunteers to teach a a dozen teenagers.
Roslin may be president, but she still keeps a keen eye on the ins and outs of schooling in the fleet, and she listens to Parker's credentials seriously. But Parker lies, and there are no records to prove otherwise, so she teaches maths to kids who are just old enough for her to tolerate.
She's pretty sure the fleet doesn't need her other skills, and she knows how to manipulate people, so.
She does not teach because she wants to pass on her knowledge, though, and she does not teach because she wants the children to learn. She teaches because if her crime was being from the Centre, and the Cylons spared her, she is sure there were others who were spared whose intentions would not be so noble.
From here, she watches the children, and watches those who watch them, and her hand flexes for her gun.
*
She's bored when she sees him next, and chases him for the hell of it.
*
Through the corridors he runs, and out into the garden. It's night, and he hides in the darkness. As she runs past, he pushes her against a tree, her wrists gripped in his hands.
They are as fragile as he remembers, and he feels her struggling.
"What's the point?" he yells, and he knows he sounds unhinged. Worried.
Normal.
"Get your hands off me," she hisses, voice low.
"What is the point?" he repeats. "The Centre is gone."
"The Centre is never gone," she replies, and pushes him weakly away.
He lets her, and they stand there in silence.
In the dark.
When she turns, he follows her, and it's just like always.
*
The wireless in Jarod's room plays constantly, and he follows the trails where they lead.
*
He sits on the floor, papers spread all around. "What are you doing?" she asks.
"This girl is missing," he says.
"There are a lot of girls missing," says Parker, more flippantly than she feels. Hand flexes for the cigarettes off which she never quite weaned herself.
"This one only since yesterday," says Jarod, and Parker squats beside him until he starts to speak.
*
Parker finds the girl first.
It's not a competition.
*
When Roslin tries to meet them, to thank them for their good work, Jarod declines. He thinks about moving to get away from Roslin's attention: curls the instinct into his gut and swallows.
There's nowhere to go, and besides, Parker always hated running.
*
She steps out of the bathroom, a towel rubbing her hair dry, and stops short. "What are you doing?" she asks.
He shrugs from his bed on the floor, all the best pillows and the warmest blanket. "I'm giving the space to someone who needs it," he says. "Too many crowded rooms. I'm good here. I know you don't snore."
"How altruistic of you," she replies sharply.
She knows what he's doing.
She doesn't stop him.
*
She taps at the paper under her hand. "What are you doing?" he asks.
"Helping," she says, and does not look at him.
He listens to her breathing until her hand stretches out, paper in her palm. An offering. "What the fuck does this say?" she asks.
He does not smile.
*
He wakes from dreams of L.E.D.s and drills held inside his head. Hold still, says Raines. This is for your own good, Jarod, says Sydney, hands full of pills. Angelo dances, wears a silly hat.
Her hand is on his shoulder. "Shut up, lab rat," she mumbles into her pillow.
"Sometimes," he says. Hopes she's asleep. "I know why they did it."
"Did what?" she asks.
"Why they came back. Why the Cylons came back and killed everyone."
"If this is some fucked up thing where you empathise with them because they were created to help people and got totally fucked over, and I am missing out on sleep for this-"
He sits up. Brings his head equal to hers. "They were created by us," he spits. "By the Centre! Can't you see it?"
"There are other organisations out there," she says, the past tense forgotten in her need to be blind to her father's faults.
Jarod is not so blind. "They were created to help humanity. To work harder and faster and more accurately, and when that experiment failed, they moved on to a new experiment. A better experiment." He frowns. "One they could have more control over."
"They would not," she says.
"They did," he replies, "And I'm glad they're dead."
"You are not," she sneers. "You couldn't hurt a fly."
One motion and he's standing, towering over her. "I did!" he yells, and it's almost crying. "I could!" He takes a step away. "I have."
She blinks at him, and her voice is quiet. "I know," she says. Palms down on the bedspread, and it's like calming a wild animal.
He kisses her, and when he bites her lips she scratches her nails down his back. He feels the skin tear, and he thinks, this is what I deserve.
He is more than his creators could have hoped for.
He is not a Cylon.
He is human.
*
She is not.
END
\o/
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-21 04:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-23 08:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-08 11:37 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-08 11:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-08 12:43 pm (UTC)this is the sequel you're looking for......
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-21 05:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-23 08:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-21 08:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-22 10:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-23 08:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-21 10:22 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-23 08:44 pm (UTC)OMG SIX AND MISS PARKER FIGHT ALAKSDJLAKSDJF.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-24 11:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-21 01:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-23 08:44 pm (UTC)That is all I have to say. Also yay Roslin, yo.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-21 03:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-23 08:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-21 08:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-23 08:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-21 11:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-23 08:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-21 11:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-23 08:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-24 02:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-26 04:58 pm (UTC)Wow! I think...
Date: 2006-03-26 08:34 pm (UTC)Thank you! Thank you so much! Norton Utilities and Systemworks have been giving me hell, and I haven't posted so long on my journal I'm surprised I haven't received the ultimate "it isn't personal, but...you are sooooo boring.... Good bye!" ::Sigh:: I can never make them happy. And I don't seem to be in touch with my inner writer these days...too many concrete blocks.
Good luck on all your future fics; may your muse constantly inspire you and lift you up to higher planes -- just don't fall out of the top floor of that building, all right? ::grin::
~Innogen
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-12 12:29 am (UTC)And the Centre.. OMG! The Centre created the cylons! That's so crazy. And of course, Jarod is the missing link.
I love this idea (and the other one you linked to) *so* much - I want a whole archive devoted to BSG/ Pretender crossovers!!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-12 02:10 am (UTC)I love the way BSG and the Pretender work so well together - and can you imagine all the things Jarod would get up to in the fleet? I would love to read more about that, about Jarod helping people, and getting it wrong, and discovering things exactly the same way he always does. And then the way he reacts to the cylons, and to everyone else - because they're in a war, and he'd react to that so differently from everyone else, and it'd be awesome.
Also, Parker.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-12 10:25 pm (UTC)Oh yeah... it would be such a conflicting environment for him. He would be so torn. God - now I want *more.* Write more? Please? I will pay you in - i don't know, i have a zillion dvds here... there must be something you like. *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-13 06:23 am (UTC)This icon you are using makes you look all grumpy.
PS my comment in your journal was meant to include an encouraging, "but the final three episodes are awesome."
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-13 06:31 am (UTC)No one is watching them at the moment so you should. We should have coffee and discuss BSG crossovers... *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-08 06:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-08 07:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-18 04:23 am (UTC)She's bored when she sees him next, and chases him for the hell of it.
And really the last couple of lines just take the cake. Just fucking brilliant. Perfect.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-19 11:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-07 02:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-07 01:20 pm (UTC)i'm obsessed with crossovers, is how i thought of it. :o)