(no subject)

[mr_gaeta]

For the past couple of weeks, Milliways has served as a planned respite: Gaeta's never wound up there accidentally. But the way he pauses when he opens the door this time is...different from that brief, surprised balk almost everybody does when their path leads somewhere they weren't expecting. It's not just uncertainty. It goes deeper than that, into something very much like wariness -- or the closed-off look he'd get sometimes on New Caprica, when his every move was being scrutinized by Cylons.

After a beat or three, he limps forward to let the door creak shut behind him. As long as he's here, there's no harm in getting some coffee, he supposes.



[Plotlocked, with apologies!]

Comments

[mr_gaeta]

"Plan it through a little better, mostly."

Wry.

"And be willing to shoulder an equal burden."

[fireinthehole]

A beat.

"Sounds good to me," Boyd says, and drains what's left of his coffee.

[mr_gaeta]

The smile's a bit more real this time, though it vanishes as soon as Gaeta hefts himself up to standing. He takes a second to catch his breath, reposition his crutches, make sure his balance won't fail him.

"Have a good night, sir," he says.

[fireinthehole]

"Yeah," Boyd says, and picks up his pen.

There's a New York Times crossword to dwell on, instead of the other options.

"You do the same."