Doesn't like dice games with sharpies and frauds

[una-harlequin.livejournal.com]

((Occurs sometime the week after Bad Fanon Day and the subsequent fallout. Closed to Una and Starbuck.))

Despite occasional temptations to do so, Una had still not cracked open the bottle of moonshine that John Crichton had sent to her back when she'd first arrived.

Given events of the last several days, the temptation was now overwhelming.

She hated drinking alone, though, and being in one of those moods where she wanted to blame the entire male gender for everything that was wrong with the universe, she had absolutely no desire to drink with any of the men or male beings of her acquaintance.

She'd done a fairly crap job of making female friends in this place. She liked Psyche, but there was something eerily not quite right about boozing up with a goddess, especially one who could see through a person with alarming accuracy. Which—

Of course. Starbuck. They'd scarcely seen each other at all since Una had arrived, more was the pity, and that needed to be remedied. And this was as good an excuse as any.

Starbuck,

So I'm not at all sure why I haven't written or visited sooner, as I did enjoy talking to you when I arrived here. Can I make that up to you by offering a drink? I'm afraid it's only the local moonshine, but it's better than nothing. Your place or mine?

-Una Persson

((ETA: Rated PG-13 to R for not especially moderately explicit, but and pretty unmistakable femmeslashiness.))

Comments

[i-have-my-flaws.livejournal.com]

Starbuck went for her own clothes. "Lords know where she got it from. Sometimes she looks at me and I get the frightening sense that I'm staring at a very old woman. I half expect her to talk."

At talk of Una being able to cook, Starbuck had to smirk. "It disqualified me. Then again, it usually seems to have more to do with who raised you than anything." Her mother was certainly no cook.

[una-harlequin.livejournal.com]

"Did she arrive with you?" Una inquired. From what she'd heard of Starbuck's normal circumstances, it didn't seem like she'd come from a place and time conducive to the keeping of pets.

Exactly when and how she'd learned to cook was, as with almost everything before the age of sixteen, lost in the haze of Una's memory. "Or sheer bloodymindedness," she said to Starbuck's comment. "Which I think was what happened with me."

[i-have-my-flaws.livejournal.com]

"No, actually." Starbuck said, pulling her shirt over her head. "She just appeared here one day. But I have a funny feeling I know who put her there, though I don't think he wants to admit it."

She finished what was left in her water bottle. "I think I'd have blown up my kitchen if I'd tried at home. Which sadly wasn't an option."