DISCLAIMER: Battlestar Galactica is the property of Glen A. Larson, Sci-Fi Channel, R & D TV, Sky and NBC Universal.
CHALLENGE: Written as part of the 1001 Nights Challenge - balance.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
A Question of Balance
She was unusual, not just for a Cylon but for an Eight in that she liked to keep in shape. She didn't know whether it was because she retained such strong memories of her 'human' life. She liked to test this body she had been given. And the gymnasium was always deserted. The Cylon body was supposed to be a perfect instrument after all. Exercise was pointless.
Sharon eased herself up onto the beam, her rosined feet sure on the narrow surface. It might only be three feet to the ground but she had fallen harder and further than most before. She wasn't going to fall again.
She paced forward three steps, keeping her legs straight, her back arched, then leaned back, feeling her muscles and tendons creak and stretch as she reached behind her, pushing upwards, defying gravity as she flipped herself backwards, her hands and arms flexing as they closed around the beam, pushing her off again back onto her feet before she turned 180 and did it again.
Perfect. Every time. She remembered being good before, good enough to get on a team, but then her body had thought it was human. It expected things not to be perfect. Now she knew better.
It had tormented her for a long time, her dual nature. She slid into splits, reaching down to take hold of the beam, her legs straight out at either side. Then taking her weight and balance on her forearms she lifted her body up, straightening out bringing her legs up to the perpendicular again in a handstand. Shifting her grip she turned once, twice before flipping herself to land feet first on the bar again.
Balance. Awakening after her last resurrection it had been weeks before she had an inkling that balance was possible. Being thrown together with Caprica Six who had her own demons to contend with had been the beginning of finding that balance.
As if in answer to her thought, the door opened and Caprica Six walked in. The black shorts and cutaway shirt she wore accented the long lean lines of her body, the sleek interplay of muscles beneath her skin. It was time.
She gathered herself for her dismount, completing two flic-flac's along the beam before throwing herself high into the air twisting and corkscrewing her body through two somersaults and a turn before she landed again. She was hardly out of breath.
"I never get tired of watching you do that," Caprica said, tracing a line of sweat down Sharon's chest, between her breasts. Sharon reached up, hooking her hand behind Caprica's head, bringing their lips together in a searing kiss.
"I don't know when I'll get the chance to do it again. I don't think New Caprica will have anything like this. By the reports they're not much beyond a shanty town. No wonder they welcomed us."
Caprica tilted her head, considering. "I think those reports might have been overstated," she said. "But the persuasive ability of four thousand Centurions can be impressive." She almost purred as Sharon nuzzled at her, her sure strong hands smoothing down her hips, over her arse.
"Is he going to be a problem for you?" Sharon asked. Caprica knew immediately who she was talking about: the human doctor, Baltar. His attachment to her had been almost complete: he had betrayed his entire race to her because she had asked it of him. Now, apparently, he was President of the surviving human race. To both women it was just the latest example of why the human race was quite possibly too stupid to survive without the help and support of a benevolent Cylon race.
"I think I've moved on since then," Caprica said. She smiled down at her dark haired lover. "I think we both have."
They complemented each other so well, one dark, one light. Where once they had destroyed now they would forge anew. And in this new life they would redress the balance. It was God's will, after all.
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