Title: Into the Night
Author: Meesh
Feedback address: meeshy_ickle@yahoo.co.uk
Date in Calendar: 18 December 2005
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Kara/Laura
Rating: PG-13
Category: AU, Pre-miniseries.
Content Warnings: Character death, implied femslash.
Summary: Kara and Laura meet in a bar!
Advertisement: Part of the FSAC:DW05

Disclaimer: The people and events you recognise are Ron Moore’s, the one’s you don’t are mine!

Authors Notes: Thanks to Lin for the infallible “they meet in a bar” idea ;)

Into the Night by Meesh


She surveys the bar, it’s crowded and the air hangs with thick cigar smoke. Laura is unperturbed however and she strides towards the bar, in need of some strong ambrosia. She pushes through the crowd until eventually she finds a spot at the bar. Ordering a large shot of the strongest ambrosia they have she takes a moment to regard the TV screen above the bar.

Images of Caprica’s news flicker on the old worn out set, lines of interference breaking up the picture periodically. Frustrated, with the lack of picture and the inability to hear the breaking headlines over the noise in the bar she turns to her drink. Laura cradles the glass in her hand, swirling the contents around the glass before downing it in one. The bitter taste makes her shudder involuntarily, but the warmth that spreads through her as the ambrosia creeps inside of her is strangely comforting. She waves the barman for another and he fills her glass to the brim all too obligingly.

Unable to stop herself her mind wanders to the days’ events. It hasn’t been a particularly remarkable day.


Everything had been just as she had expected, the service had been exactly as the priest had described it to her, the church filled with either people Laura has never seen before, or those she hasn’t seen since she was much younger. As she stands at the altar, remembering her mother through her words in front of all these people, she can see their disgust through their masks of grief. The late Grace Roslin’s daughter isn’t even shedding a tear over her death. Laura knows the whispers and the questions will come later; and she knows they will never understand. She has spent five years watching her mothers’ condition deteriorate. The once strong, powerful woman growing frailer by the day. With each passing hour, with each bout of sickness induced by her cancer treatments her mother loses every ounce of spirit the part of her mother that cares, nurtures and inspires Laura. The dutiful daughter watches as the life is slowly pulled out of her mother, hour by hour. The end comes none too soon, but for the friends of the late Grace Roslin, none of whom find the time to visit during her five year sickness, her death is a shock.

Laura, being as stubborn as her late mother, decides “to hell with it”. She doesn’t bother going back to her mother’s house with the rest of the mourners, she takes the first transport as soon as she leaves the cemetery. She directs the driver to the nearest city, Delphi.

She presumes that her mothers so-called “close” friends will have even more to say about Laura in her absence. Laura snorted and downed the shot of ambrosia. ‘What did they know anyway? Were they the ones who had to feed and dress her? Were they the ones who had to take her to the toilet, and when finally that was too much… change her mothers soiled nappies. It was the most undignified fate any person could suffer.’


Engrossed in her anger towards her late mothers friends Laura doesn’t notice the confident blonde make her way towards the bar. The blonde pushes through to lean against the counter beside the brunette. She watches; half amused, half concerned as Laura downs glass after glass of ambrosia. A few moments of contemplation pass by, the blonde orders another beer for herself, and waves the barman to refill the brunette’s glass. Kara grins and takes a swig from the bottle as Laura looks up, surprised.

“You looked like you needed some company…” Kara gives the woman a wry smile.

Laura forces a smile in return and turns back to the bar. Kara pulls a cigar from her pocket. Carefully she lights it and takes a long deep inhale. She stares at the brunette for another moment, Kara is stubborn, she’s not going to let herself be ignored.

“Come here often?” Kara blew a ring of smoke out towards the crowd.

“No. I don’t get change to get out much…” Laura mumbles.

“Oh?” She gives the brunette a questioning look.

“My mother is… was… ill.”


“It’s okay. I learned to live with it a long time ago.” Laura sighs and downs her ambrosia.

After a few uncomfortable moments of silence Laura turned to look at the blonde. She had a strength about her, the way she carried herself. There was a hint of a bruise around one eye, which made Laura wonder how she had gotten the injury. Laura took a breath and broke the silence “What’s your name?”

“Kara Thrace.”

“Laura Roslin.”

It was Kara’s turn to feel uncomfortable. Not knowing what to say she takes another sip of her drink before returning to taking long lingering puffs of her cigar.

“Do you… want to… you know…” Laura hesitated, “Get something to eat maybe?”

Kara flashes her a smile and grabs Laura’s arm in answer pulling her through the crowd. Laura laughs out loud for what feels like the first time in months. Grabbing onto Kara’s arm for all it’s worth she follows the blonde into the night.