Disclaimer: not mine.
Rating: R, sexual situations, rape references, torture, language
Length: 1800. ish.
Pairings (overt or referenced): Kendra Shaw/Gina, Gina/Cain, Kendra/Kara Thrace, Kendra/Cain
Spoilers: everything in Razor, season 2.
Notes: This was supposed to be a drabble for fslash100, but I couldn't get the opening to reference 'red', which is the current prompt. This is linear, unlike Razor.

Warning: I really do mean rape, people.

by ALC Punk!

The kiss comes out of nowhere, but it isn't unexpected. Kendra is as exhausted as hell and is pretty sure she could lie down and sleep right where she is, but she's pretty sure she's been reading the signals right. Gina's lips against hers give her pause, and she feels a flush stealing from her cheeks and down her neck. A warm wave that, in better circumstances, she'd try to brush off, or try to follow up on.

But they don't have time for this sort of thing, not with the network down and too many systems to re-route.

Gina pulls back after a moment, her eyes light and indecipherable before she smiles, "All work and no play..." she offers.

"We have a job," Kendra says, and she knows the words are lame.

Some of the light dies from Gina's eyes, and she nods, "Right. Sorry." She finishes grabbing the cable above Kendra and steps back. "Your turn."

Kendra takes half a second to consider things and then can't help but step forward and stretch up to kiss Gina's cheek. "We have a job. Now. Later..."

Gina's smile widens.


Gina's little explanation is pat and trite and a hundred things Kendra won't say. Despite the anger and emotion suddenly pounding through her, she lets herself trust. Lets Gina in just a little more.

Part of her wants to be angry.

She's definitely jealous, wondering if the words and kisses from before were just something for Gina to pass the time. If she should have kept her facade and not kissed her back. Because if Gina and Cain are an item, where does that leave her?

Problem is, Kendra's not sure who she's jealous of.


White coat, blonde hair. White coat, blonde hair. The words run themselves around Kendra's head and she sucks in a breath. It's like being punched in the gut. She knows. She knows, now, what Gina is. Knows why there were pieces of her that she never got.

Kendra sees red after half a second. Kisses, codes, trust--Gina has betrayed all of that, and she probably did it while laughing at the silly human girl.

Even worse--Kendra's betrayed Cain's trust, betrayed the safety of her fellow crew members--people whose lives she was supposed to watch out for. They, when they find out... The thought is sickening. It's worse than Cain's disgust at the aide who couldn't find her way around a battlestar.

Cain shot Belzen between the eyes for merely disobeying her command. Kendra shivers, as she wonders what the frak Cain will do to the woman who betrayed her battlestar to the Cylons.

There's no way she won't find out--Gina is too recognizable, and the rumors will be spreading like fire in an oxygen-rich vacuum. And Cain will lose face. She'll lose the trust of the men and women around her, because she was frakking a Cylon.

It won't matter that Cain has seen them through hell.

Gina is a Cylon.

It doesn't seem real, for a moment. Doesn't seem possible, but there it is.

White coat, blonde hair...


It's revenge. Pain, fear, degradation--emotions in Cain's posture and face, driving her. Giving her the impetus to make decisions Kendra doesn't understand. Torture, yes. Interrogation--but the finality in it chills Kendra.

If it were Kendra on the other side of that glass, Cain would make the same decisions.

Her gaze touches Gina's, the betrayal spikes deep. I trusted you.

Gina isn't smiling, her eyes aren't bright anymore. There's something dull and dead in them, as though she knows the lengths to which humans will go to destroy what once was beautiful.


The sign says 'do disturb', and Kendra isn't sure why she's standing outside the glassed-in cell. She came at a bad time, one of the junior officers is following orders. She can't quite bring herself to peer through the glass, so she focuses on the sign.

Maybe she's here to prove to herself that this is right. That everything has been right.

Or she's here to prove to herself that Gina is just an 'it', a thing to be mocked and abused. A machine to destroy because she destroyed so many of their lives (like Kendra destroyed Laird's, and maybe she's the one who should be in the cell).

Kendra knows Cain comes here daily. She doesn't participate, but she watches, and she asks questions.

Questions that get no answers, and so it goes on.

The petty officer makes a strangled sound and Kendra's gaze jerks without her authority into the cage (cell, cage, prison--they're all the same). Her eyes meet Gina's, and the hatred in the Cylon's gaze rips through her.

It's gone an instant later as the boy clumsily kisses her, then laughs.


Cain's dead. The words repeat themselves in a litany that keeps Kendra moving and dodging as she weaves through the corridor. Dead, dead, dead, dead...

A fifteen-year old girl, her eyes frightened and desperate flashes in Kendra's memory, but she's used to her by now. Her steps don't falter.

It's inevitable that Cain would be gone. Someone like her doesn't last, not when you bring in outsiders like the Galactica. Kendra's heard the official word: the Cylon prisoner over-powered Dr. Baltar and escaped.

She's not stupid. Gina was good at what she did, even broken and defeated, she'd've had Baltar wrapped around her finger in seconds.

Kendra had almost warned Cain, but it hadn't seemed... appropriate. Or maybe she was gambling that the chips would fall as they ought.

Dodging around another petty officer, Kendra feels the deck beneath her feet, and wonders if she's next. Smart money's on Gina getting off Pegasus, though. Stopping for Kendra would ruin her fast escape plans, though it might be satisfying.

If Gina can find anything satisfying anymore. It, Kendra tries to remind herself. Gina is an it. Not a her, not a person. She's a thing to be hated.

Turning the corner, she moves around some blonde--Starbuck, she remembers. Cain's new toy. Captain Kara Thrace, all smug brashness and arrogant bravado. The kind of officer Kendra knew Cain would have ground into the ground. Except that Thrace thinks outside the box.

It makes her wonder what Thrace would have done when confronted by disgruntled civilians. Probably cracked a joke before letting her marines open fire.

Sometimes, Kendra thinks she can run fast enough to leave her memories behind.


The kitchen's been silent since Kendra turned off the wireless, finally tired of the meaningless chatter going on. She knows she should probably care about the local politics, but she's an officer on the Pegasus. There's not much that can touch her here.

Last time, the door didn't clank, but Kendra has the feeling Kara Thrace isn't exactly firing on all pins anymore.

The captain laughs a little when she spots Kendra. "You still here, sir?"

Should she be anywhere else? But she doesn't exactly care what Thrace thinks of her. And the kitchen is something she's familiar with, a place she's used to.

"You know, I've been tryin'--" a stumble that brings Thrace up short against the sinks, and she laughs a little. "Tryin' to figure you out."

"And what have you found?" The question is almost unwilling.

"Not sure yet."

Thrace moves closer, suddenly grabbing Kendra before she's aware that the captain's going for her hands. She winces when the stove slams into her back. There are half a dozen ways she can break the hold and disengage, but for some reason, she doesn't see the point. "Let me go."

Maybe it's the way Thrace is pressed up against her--just like Gina. And the thought makes Kendra suck in a breath. Not like Gina. Thrace is human.

"You tried to kill me," says Thrace, her voice low--and the tone is making Kendra's stomach clench. Like she could wrap the sound around her and for a minute, she'd forget everything.

"Did I?"

"Yeah." A laugh escapes Thrace and she lowers her head towards Kendra's. "Usually, I kill people who try to kill me. Usually, they end up dead."

"Then I guess I'd better watch my back." Kendra shifts and yanks her hands free, shoving Thrace away from her.

"Not a problem, I'll watch your front."

Kendra has no time to think up a reply to the truly awful line before Thrace leans forward and kisses her, pressing her back up against the stove. The full body contact shocks her for a second. Thrace kisses clumsily, without any sort of style, and she tastes like far too much ambrosia.

It's not like Gina, or the half-dozen men and women she'd discreetly relieved her tension with. Thrace is artless and thoughtless, and Kendra grabs for the back of her neck, intending to stop her.

Her fingers slide up and into Thrace's hair, tugging at the low-slung ponytail until her hair is free. Kendra kisses her back, refusing to consider it desperate. It's a test, a moment that doesn't ever have to exist again. Her stomach clenches again, and she wonders if Thrace feels it, too.

Kendra closers her fingers into a fist and pulls.

Their lips separate with a wet sound that makes Kendra wish she hadn't stopped this.

"Good night, Major," Thrace says, pulling away.

Kendra stays silent as she turns and walks back towards the door to the kitchen. Her steps are precise. "How drunk are you, Captain?" The words escape before she can stop them.

"Not drunk enough," replies Thrace. She turns at the door and shrugs, "But there's still half a bottle in my rack." She clears her throat, "Don't worry, I'll be good to go for our mission."

She's gone before Kendra can tell her that wasn't what she was thinking.


There's no fear, anymore. Taking the stick in her hand is easy. Kendra wonders if the words the hybrid said will truly have any impact.

The Cylons think of it as God, protecting it--and it's the genesis of the ones like Gina. God in a way.

A flash of memory. Cain, unguarded as she smiles at Gina. A look no one else saw on her face, and was gone as fast as it appeared.

But Kendra had made Cain her own personal study, so she saw it.

And she couldn't be jealous.

Neither could she forgive.