Carol Peletier, Season 5 - Requested by dimension—x

Part 4 of coffee shop verse (for neverlendbooks, with cinnamon on top)

"I’d like another," Laura said, holding out her cup, a polite smile on her face and a smug look in her eyes.

"She’s already had two," Kara whispered to Bill behind the counter, "and I couldn’t even get one sip down.  That woman is terrifying."

"This next song’s for Bill," Laura told the audience during her next set, casting a bright smile at Bill, "…and it’s called ‘You Have No Idea Who You’re Dealing With.’"

10 hours ago 4 notes
you should write me an au where Laura is riding a bear through the forest and Bill is hunting and he almost shoots her bear but then he sees her and he's like what the fuck and they go on a date but she brings her bear and it's weird

Bill is sighting along the barrel of his father’s rifle (his, now, since his father’s death two months ago; they used to go hunting together, and now it’s just Bill, huddled alone in the cold, squinting against the late November snow, the wind blowing the flakes sideways, straight into his eyes) when the bear comes lumbering into view; his eager finger (twitching, almost, for this kill—what better way to honor his father, inaugurate this weapon?) is almost squeezing the trigger when he sees the flash of red hair and hastily pulls the barrel away, the bullet shooting harmlessly off target and burying itself into a nearby tree.

"I suppose I should be grateful you’re a terrible shot," Laura, the model who’d been riding the bear for the Vogue shoot says dryly, irritation apparently trumping fear; Bill starts to apologies (for the seventh time) or to inform her that he’s a fucking great shot, and that’s why she isn’t dead—instead, “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” is what comes out of his mouth.

Laura looks over at the bear, standing protectively behind her shoulder (and unless Bill is much mistaken, blaming him for this, too)—“What do you think, Yogi?” she coos, “Should we give the lunatic with the gun another opportunity to kill us?”

10 hours ago 3 notes



Part 3 of coffee shop verse, which is really neverlendbooks' fault for encouraging me and presidentroslin's fault for making fun of me.

"So what’s the roast of the day?" Kara asked, as she tied on her apron at the start of her shift (Bill knew she didn’t really care, that it was just her way of asking for a free cup of coffee, but having seen Kara work with her customary hangover without the benefit of caffeine, he was more than willing to spot her a cup or two…particularly when he also had to put up with the dubious charms of Laura Roslin, who was currently unpacking her gear before her set.)

Kara took a sip and spat it straight back into the cup—“What the hell is that?” she demanded—“I like dark roasts as well as the next person, but that’s so bitter it’s unbearable.”

Bill smiled triumphantly—“I’m calling it the Laura Roslin,” he said.

11 hours ago 4 notes

More coffee shop verse

Bill Adama was beginning to suspect that Laura Roslin might be a musical genius: after all, it had to be an indication of real talent that she could manage to shoot a glare at him across the heads of the audience—without missing a note—every time he slapped a lid on a to-go cup or scraped the plate while cutting a square of brownie.

Bill wasn’t insensitive; maybe he wouldn’t have wanted someone running the cappuccino machine while he was singing about his lost love, either…but she was working in a coffee shop, did she really expect him to turn down customers every time she opened her mouth?

"This next one’s called ‘So Damn Loud,’" Laura told the audience with a brilliant smile, "and I’m dedicating it to my good friend Bill."

12 hours ago 5 notes


"And, Commander…let your men and women…know how grateful I am for the job that they are doing, please. Thank them for me."