queenofheartsrp | 0.4; video

0.4; video :: midnight

[Sleeping isn't really one of Jackie's stronger suits. Hasn't been for six or seven years and she's long since found various ways to keep herself entertained through the worsts parts of the night. And the nights are the worst parts, there's too much silence, too much space to hear her own thoughts and they are terrible tumultuous things.

She's managed to convince herself to stay in bed with Dominique for a few days in a row now, but it's too much. She gets up, wanders the house, but that's lost much of its appeal already. She goes onto the back deck of Gaius Baltar's home, looking out over the lake and the shimmer of the moon on its waters. A sprig of the vine seems to have taken up root back here, but she sees it this time, eyes it coldly before bending down to coax it up the deck railing with light fingers.

She considers the mirror in the darkness,]

What I wouldn't give for a television or a radio right now. I suppose I could make them with the magic dirt, but all I'd get on reception would be some porn and the top ten most nauseating love songs.

[She does a fairly flat and tired sounding imitation of a radio broadcaster, balancing her chin in her hand.]

So, night birds, what are you doing up so late after your bedtime?

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[ Caprica usually sleeps fairly soundly, even though she's all by herself in Gaius's huge bed and she has never liked to sleep alone. It still feels bizarre to sleep in his bed without him in it, and sometimes when she wakes up she gropes on the other side of the bed for him, out of sheer reflex. The disappointment when he's not there, at least, has lessened somewhat.

This time, she wakes up in the middle of the night, the moonlight spilling in a silvery drape across the width of the room. For a moment she lies there awake in the dark, still and quiet. Eventually, she pushes herself up out of bed, considers going downstairs just as she is, but then remembers she has guests in the house. So she pulls on a short nightgown and a white satin robe over that, fabric draping loosely over her figure.

She pads silently downstairs, and her keen eyes catch sight of the woman standing on the deck. Of course it's Jackie; Caprica already knows about her sleeping difficulties.

For a moment she pauses in considering whether or not to bother her, but that moment doesn't linger long, and she slips out the glass door to join her, eyes flicking toward the mirror she's called up from the Vine. She pauses near the other woman, hands resting on the railing. Nearly reaches out to gently touch her hair, but stops herself at the last moment. It's not her place to do that anymore. ]

Can't sleep?

[ The question is gentle, and rather rhetorical. ]

There... are only so many hours I can spend reading.

[ They're standing close enough together that Caprica could touch her if she wanted to. Could stroke her hair, pull her in and kiss her forehead, the same way she herself would want to be touched — not a way that Gaius ever touched her, but a way that reminds her of her sister Sixes whom she has missed so sorely.

But for now, she holds herself back. The imperative to touch is not so strong as it was when she had eaten the chocolate. She feels the absence of contact, but right now it isn't a raw, desperate ache. Right now she can ignore it.

She smiles, ruefully, and laughs softly instead. ]

I think there are only so many hours anyone can spend reading.

[ Caprica glances aside, and only then does she note the book sitting there on the deck, casually as if it were dropped there. She goes over to it, picks it up. The first indication that it isn't one of the books from the library in the Gardens is the cut corners typical of Colonial literature. The second is that she recognizes the title and the author. One of those somewhat pretentious, overdone pieces of classic fiction Gaius used to read when he could be bothered to. ]

You've been in Gaius's library.

[ Not a question, but she doesn't sound offended either. She sounds a little surprised, instead — and for that moment, she forgets that she has never mentioned her lover to Jackie. ]

Yes. Though the selection was a bit dry and over my head.

[ Caprica sits down on the deck chair, the fabric of her robe fluttering about her as she settles, crossing her legs. The book she cradles in her hands, fingers gently brushing the cover. Touching it like a precious object even though it's only a book. Its counterpart in her own world has long since been burnt to ash.

She smiles as she sets the book aside on the nearby table, and there's a different quality to the curve of her lips. Affection, reminiscence. ]

He's a scientist. It isn't really easy reading.

[ She had read his work because she was curious, and because it flattered his ego to have her interest. The treatises on computer science were the easiest for her, though she imagines they must seem quite arcane to Jackie. ]

So you kept a mad scientist.

[ She doesn't really seem to care much about Jackie having taken the book; she'll just put it back in its place later.

Caprica's gaze flicks up to the other woman at that, eyes slightly wide, and then she just laughs. Still soft, but obviously amused by the mad scientist quip. ]

No.

[ She sobers quickly, turning her gaze out to the lake after a few moments. ]

This is his house. Was his house.

[ Her lips press together in a thin line. She isn't entirely sure how she feels about discussing this — and she's well aware of what the fact that she conjured someone else's house in this place may make her look like. ]

And you brought it here.

[ Caprica only nods. ]

It was an accident.

[ She's not trying to make excuses. That's what happened, after all — she'd been reminded of him, of his house, she'd had the soil from the wild places, and the stuff had taken shape in response to her unconscious desires.

Caprica moves a hand, smoothing loose strands of her hair away from her face. A fine breeze blows off the lake, ruffling her hair and the fabric of her robe, bringing with it the scent of fresh water. It's so familiar it makes her close her eyes a moment against the memory. ]

I suppose it's your house now.

[ Some of the very finest details were probably the work of the Gardens filling in gaps, but for the most part, the house and its contents in their entirety were the result of Caprica's photographic memory. She knows every square inch of this house and its environs, remembers it with a dedicated intensity, the sort of intensity that only comes from having turned over the memories she made in this place so many times that anyone else would have tired of it.

The cool air chills her too — she's wearing less than Jackie, the fabric of the robe and the nightgown beneath thin and loose, the drape of it leaving most of her legs bare. But she doesn't care.

She nearly denies Jackie's statement reflexively. It doesn't sit well with her to think of this as her house. But she doesn't really want to have that argument, either. ]

I suppose so.

[ She doesn't sound completely convinced, but it's a concession. ]

Is everything all right? With you and Dominique?

[ It's the first time Caprica has mentioned the other woman, and she is careful not to give too many hints in her tone of what they'd discussed. She won't unless Jackie asks her about it. ]

...you mean besides being abducted by a girl-crazy madwoman.

[ Caprica's brows arch a little. Dominique has told her what they are to each other, but even beyond that, she might have been able to see it, if she were able to watch them together. Even the most subtle body language speaks volumes. ]

Besides that, yes.

[ Her voice and her faint smile are dry, as if she's taking Jackie's words like a rueful joke, ignoring the mockery in her tone. ]

...I don't see why it wouldn't be...

[ Caprica just watches her a moment longer, before she shakes her head. ]

Neither do I. [ Her eyes drop briefly to the deck and she smiles apologetically. As if she's sensed a problem and moved to correct it. ] I'm sorry, it's not my place. I just wanted to make sure she's settling in all right.

[ She could ask Dominique herself, but knowing the relationship between her and Jackie, she thinks Jackie might be able to give a better answer. ]

I suppose you'll have to ask her that yourself.

[ It seems for a moment Caprica had forgotten Jackie doesn't like apologies; she's reminded of it now, with that look on the other woman's face. But it would be fruitless to apologize for apologizing, and she wouldn't entirely mean it if she did.

Her shoulders arch in a slight shrug. ]

I thought I would ask you.

[ She smiles a little, unreadably, then glances away. Clear enough from that gesture that Jackie doesn't really have to answer her — Caprica has become aware that she's prying. ]

You did, and I have no answer. So why are you up?

[ Her eyes lift, meeting Jackie's. Unsure what to think of her tone of voice, she shakes her head a little. ]

I woke up. Couldn't fall back to sleep.

[ It's all right, really; she doesn't physically need to sleep nearly as often as a human would, and if Jackie is paying attention she'll notice Caprica doesn't really seem fatigued.

Slowly, she stands up, goes over to stand near Jackie and rests her hands on the railing. She's still watching her, thoughtfully; and after a moment, she reaches out, brushes a hand over the curve of Jackie's shoulder. A very gentle, barely-there touch, but contact nonetheless. It might be meant to be a comfort, one she's not totally sure Jackie will accept, but one she wants to give nonetheless.

She doesn't mean to make Jackie retreat. Isn't sure exactly why the other woman keeps running from her. There isn't too much emotion in her eyes this time; her gaze is very gentle, maybe a little sad, a little unsure. ]

There's not much going on this time of night.

[ For a moment, Caprica isn't sure if she's made a mistake, has misread the situation. Then Jackie lays her hand over hers, so gently, and she relaxes. Leans in just a little more to brush her lips across her forehead, an incredibly light kiss that could nearly be platonic — but she doesn't try to kiss her on the mouth, not this time. Not unless Jackie makes that move first. There is a boundary there that was not there before, when Caprica didn't know she had a lover, when that selfsame woman wasn't a guest in her house.

She draws back enough to speak, but keeps her hand on Jackie's shoulder, won't move it until Jackie indicates she's no longer comfortable with the touch. ]

Sometimes it's nice. The quiet.

[ And it is very quiet in the Gardens, save for the cool breeze off the lake, the chirping of crickets and the small noises of other nocturnal animals. Entirely different than during the daylight hours. ]

No.

The quiet is never nice.

[ And Caprica... doesn't really know what to say to that. Jackie's pain pulls her in, inevitably, and if she were more introspective in this moment she would wonder at herself, how she always seems attracted to this, to damage and injury beyond her ability to even attempt to repair.

She cannot even begin to speculate on why Jackie says that, what runs through her mind in the silence that would make her so averse to it. Caprica knows what it is to dwell on thoughts and memories when there is nothing else to distract her, but this is not the same thing.

There's real compassion in her eyes. The first words to her lips are a genuine apology, but she stifles them before they can escape; they're not words Jackie would accept, no matter how sincerely meant. And she is not looking to push the other woman's boundaries tonight.

Instead, she just runs the pad of her thumb along Jackie's shoulder — a tiny gesture, but one meant to be reassuring, soothing. ]

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0.4; video :: midnight

[action] oh here have my tl;dr

[action] did someone say tl;dr?

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[action] asdfghjkl look at all those typos I left.........

[action] it's okay I won't judge you bb

[action] so magnanimous~