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crossoverficTitle: You are Number Six
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jani_s (otherwise known as servalan
Fandoms: The Prisoner, Battlestar Galactica
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Character(s): Caprica Six, Number Six
Summary: Drabble. The Sixes meet.
You are Number Six
She walked into his cottage like she owned it. Blonde, smug, an unusual outfit -- she was more than a little out of place.
“Who are you?” he demanded of the intruder. If she really didn’t belong here, maybe this one would have a name.
She looked out a window which had a view of other cottages, numbers over their doors. She cocked her head, listening to a particularly raucous group nearer the beach. (“Number twenty-two! Pass the ball to me!”)
She smiled at him. It didn’t put him any more at ease. “I’m Six,” she said.
She was Number Six? Not that he had ever wanted the number, but it did seem odd that The Village would replace him. Why?
“You’re Number Six?” He would get all the information he could from her about this new plan from Number Two.
And now she looked a bit sheepish. “I’m Caprica Six.” This meant nothing to him, so he gestured for her to continue. “You know. The one with Baltar. The other Sixes think that’s a bit silly,” she confided. Her smile had shifted to smugly ingratiating.
Ah, so that was the game. This was a ploy to make him accept a number. The woman in front of him was a plant, obviously, but a plant who had found a way to differentiate herself. She wasn’t simply Number Six. She was Caprica Six.
He supposed he would be Her Majesty’s Six or Retired Six. If he hadn’t seen through the plot, that was. It was ingenious, really. This Number Two was much more creative than the last.
--
Six woke up gasping for breath and fighting the resurrection gel. She wouldn’t tell anyone about this vision, not until she’d figured out what it meant.
Author:
jani_s (otherwise known as servalanFandoms: The Prisoner, Battlestar Galactica
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Character(s): Caprica Six, Number Six
Summary: Drabble. The Sixes meet.
You are Number Six
She walked into his cottage like she owned it. Blonde, smug, an unusual outfit -- she was more than a little out of place.
“Who are you?” he demanded of the intruder. If she really didn’t belong here, maybe this one would have a name.
She looked out a window which had a view of other cottages, numbers over their doors. She cocked her head, listening to a particularly raucous group nearer the beach. (“Number twenty-two! Pass the ball to me!”)
She smiled at him. It didn’t put him any more at ease. “I’m Six,” she said.
She was Number Six? Not that he had ever wanted the number, but it did seem odd that The Village would replace him. Why?
“You’re Number Six?” He would get all the information he could from her about this new plan from Number Two.
And now she looked a bit sheepish. “I’m Caprica Six.” This meant nothing to him, so he gestured for her to continue. “You know. The one with Baltar. The other Sixes think that’s a bit silly,” she confided. Her smile had shifted to smugly ingratiating.
Ah, so that was the game. This was a ploy to make him accept a number. The woman in front of him was a plant, obviously, but a plant who had found a way to differentiate herself. She wasn’t simply Number Six. She was Caprica Six.
He supposed he would be Her Majesty’s Six or Retired Six. If he hadn’t seen through the plot, that was. It was ingenious, really. This Number Two was much more creative than the last.
--
Six woke up gasping for breath and fighting the resurrection gel. She wouldn’t tell anyone about this vision, not until she’d figured out what it meant.
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