Fic: Riverside (Battlestar Galactica)
At first, Baltar doesn’t spot Felix Gaeta’s daemon; the man is alone, palms flat on the rock to either side of his thighs, shoes empty and uniform jacket discarded beside him, his feet in the river-water that flows from up on the bluffs above the new settlement on New Caprica. Seeing him without a daemon is shocking, horrific, and Baltar’s heart jumps - until he follows Felix’s delighted gaze and lights on an otter, playing in the dashing current. As he watches, the otter chitters and flips in the waves, smacking the top of the water with her flat tail.
Klari, Baltar’s own fox daemon, brushes his ankle. “We’ve never seen them like this,” she says.
Felix twists around and spots Baltar. With a startled “oh!” he moves to his feet. “I’m sorry, Doctor, I mean, Mr. President,” and Baltar would swear that he can feel the heat on the man’s face from this far away.
“It’s all right,” Baltar reassures. “Go on, sit back down.”
Felix eases back down on the rock, his posture stiffer, less natural. Baltar almost wants to go, but a flick from Klari’s tail and a glare stop that idea in its tracks. Baltar steps over to Felix and sits next to him, mentally lamenting the dirt that will inevitably get on his suit.
Felix’s daemon watches them for a moment, posted upright on a rock in the middle of the dashing water, but as Klari climbs into Baltar’s lap, the otter plunges deep into the water.
“Aren’t you worried about the danger?” Baltar asks.
“Hmm?”
“The current,” clarifies Baltar. “Or any natural predators around here, after all, we haven’t had terribly much time to survey, have we?”
“She can take care of herself,” Felix dismisses, his eyes fixed on the flowing water. He relents, for a moment. “There was river behind my house on Caprica,” he tells Baltar. “White-water, a lot faster than this one. We used to go canoeing together.”
“So you decided to, ah, ditch the festivities,” questions Baltar, “and go off on your own?”
Felix shoots him a tight smile. “Festivities were never really my thing.” He looks back out.
No, Baltar supposes that festivities haven’t really been Felix’s thing. Even in the mildly social events on the Galactica, Felix held back a little, his daemon quiet and content.
Really, Baltar has never seen Felix’s daemon show much activity at all - this is completely foreign. Felix even strains a little, like if he could, he would let go of the land completely and float away; meanwhile, his daemon dashes in the current, surrounded by the freedom of the water.
And Baltar realizes, despite all his conversations with Felix, he still doesn’t know what Felix’s daemon is called.
“What’s her name?” Baltar gestures out to the otter - she dips below the surface, leaving barely a ripple.
“Alexandra,” says Felix.
“Alexandra,” echoes Baltar. “It’s pretty.”
Felix ducks his head, with a murmured thanks; Baltar can remember it now, a half-image of Felix’s mouth twisted to a smile, his daemon climbing from his arms to his shoulder. What had he called her? -Allie. That was it. Allie.
Short for Alexandra, of course.
“Did you always know what form she would take?” asks Baltar, “or was it a surprise?”
Felix looks shy, maybe with a tingle of nostalgia, and Baltar leans forward, his hand curling in Klari’s fur. He wants to hear this, he realizes. He really, genuinely wants to know this about Felix Gaeta.
“I always knew,” says Felix. “I remember when I was six years old,” with a little bit of an embarrassed smile, “at a family picnic, I told all my aunts and uncles that Allie - Alexandra - would be an otter forever.” He shakes his head. “They laughed, of course, told me that a lot would change between now and then. Then in high school, between my sophomore and junior years - well, one day she changed from a crane to an otter. And I knew that she wouldn’t be changing anymore.” He’s silent for a moment, eyes staring towards nothing at all. Then he shakes himself out of his reverie, and looks to Baltar. “How about you?”
“Well, I never gave it much thought, really,” says Baltar. “Somewhere along the way I realized she hadn’t changed in a while, and when I asked her, she said she wouldn’t anymore.” Klari nudges his hand, nestles into his lap, and Baltar smiles involuntarily. “All that changing was tiresome,” he continues. “I much prefer it this way.”
Felix is more comfortable now - if Baltar’s questions are unexpected or unnerving, it certainly doesn’t show. “I’m not sure I agree,” says Felix, his gaze drawn back out to the waves. “I mean, I’d never trade Allie, not for anything, but sometimes -”
Alexandra bursts out of the water and onto the rock, between them. “Trade me?” she shrieks, and she dashes playfully at Felix, digging her claws into his tanks. “Trade me? I’ll give you ‘trade me’!” She attacks Felix’s side, and he laughs helplessly, scrambling to get a grip on her water-slick fur.
“Ew,” complains Felix, once he has a grip. “You’re going to get me all wet,” but when she climbs into his lap and nuzzles his neck, all he does is hold her close, run his fingers through the damp of her back.
Baltar can’t help but watch. This is a completely different side of Felix and Alexandra - something sweet and delicate and happy, and it warms a piece of Baltar that he didn’t remember existed.
Alexandra slithers to the rock, leaving a wet trail on Felix’s clothes, and she cocks her head at Klari. Baltar realizes what’s about to happen just an instant before Klari bolts - Alexandra makes chase, dodging around Baltar to flee after the fox daemon.
”Allie!” Felix calls, incredulous.
Klari is faster than Alexandra - on the land, at least - but she circles around a tree and Alexandra catches up, pouncing and letting the fox roll her to the ground.
Baltar turns away from the frolicking daemons.
“I don’t think I ever thanked you,” says Baltar. “For uncovering the election, Roslin, well, you know.”
Felix looks shy again. “I was just doing my job,” he explains, but Baltar shakes his head.
“Thank you,” he says. “Really. Thank you.” Right now, on this planet, it feels like all of Baltar’s dreams have come true, like he’s at the top and everyone is looking up to him, like there’s a new beginning and that maybe he can make up for what he’s done.
There’s a trilling noise from the daemons, and Baltar feels a shiver go up his spine. When he looks, Klari still has Alexandra pinned down, but Alexandra is licking her, cleaning the dirt from their brief run off of Klari’s fur.
When Baltar turns back to Felix, there’s something odd twisting Felix’s expression. Some kind of longing, maybe, too deep to hold inside.
“Felix,” starts Baltar, but somehow, he can’t find the words. Instead, he does the one thing that he can - he kisses Felix.
The way Felix leans into him, the soft noise of want, the way Felix’s hand cups his cheek - it’s all that he expected and nothing that he expected at once. Baltar scoots closer and parts his lips, coaxing in Felix’s tongue.
Baltar feels amazingly light - maybe it’s the .91 gravity, but he feels like he could do anything, like he could defeat the entire Cylon army by spitting, or crush Model Six under his heel. Maybe shut her up in a prison, inside Baltar’s own mind, so she and her panther daemon could never torment him again.
“Gaius?” Felix breathes.
Baltar registers the brush of fur by his arm. Klari has returned, and in front of him, Alexandra flows onto Felix, snuggling into his ribs.
“Can I touch her?” Baltar asks.
Felix freezes.
Baltar knows why; the taboo against touching another’s daemon is ingrained, set in stone. It’s a horrible breach of protocol. It’s disgusting, dirty, evil in some kind of unspeakable, intimate way. Baltar has never touched another’s daemon before. He’s never wanted to.
“All right.” Felix’s voice trembles, almost on the verge of a stammer. Alexandra flinches, but she doesn’t move away, and Baltar reaches out, until he feels the slight damp against his palm, the fuzzy softness of her fur drying in the sunlight. A shock of lightning runs down Baltar’s stomach.
He’s listened to all sorts of scientific theories on daemons and what they really are, what they represent, and he’s listened politely to all of them and maybe even believed one or two. But right now, he knows for certain. The otter that he’s touching, that’s pushing its head against his hand and crooning so quietly he can barely hear it - she’s Felix Gaeta’s soul.
Baltar glances up at Felix, once, and then takes Alexandra into his hands, lifting her and resting her in the crook of his arm. Felix inhales sharply, a little shocked, and when Baltar looks back at him, his eyes are wide and dark.
Alexandra trills and bites affectionately at Baltar’s arm.
“She’s beautiful,” says Baltar, finally finding his voice. Then he feels something, something dizzying and disorienting, and he realizes that Klari has a paw on Felix’s leg, sniffing in the palm of his hand. Felix glances to Baltar for permission, then he touches her, smoothes the fur on top of her head.
“Oh,” exhales Felix, “she’s softer than I was expecting.”
Klari darts into Felix’s arms. Baltar feels tingly, touched and cherished and raw, and he thinks that he might be in love. This isn’t something that people share - not people like them, who are barely colleagues. This is hardly something that even the most longtime of lovers share with one another, but it feels so wonderful, so intense that Baltar’s heartbeat is pounding, and he can feel Alexandra’s pulse too, under his fingertips.
Eventually, as if by mutual agreement, Felix releases Klari and Baltar lets Alexandra drop to the ground. Baltar is immediately disappointed, bereft, and he remembers that eventually Felix is going back to the Galactica.
“Do you enjoy the military?” Baltar blurts.
Felix looks up from where he’s scratching under Alexandra’s chin. “Ah,” he says.
“Because I want you to stay.” There, he said it; there’s no going back.
Felix is taken aback. “I,” he says, “I’ll think about it, Gaius-”
“Think hard, okay?” Baltar kisses Felix again, deeper and longer, until Felix breathes too quickly, and his face is flushed. “Think hard,” he repeats, lamely, and all he can do is watch as Felix gathers Alexandra into his arms and retreats, glancing back once, twice over his shoulder.
Baltar sits down heavily, on the rock. Klari stares as though mesmerized at the water in the river.
“What is it?” Baltar asks.
“I just wondered,” says Klari, “what it would be like to swim in.”
~*~
Klari, Baltar’s own fox daemon, brushes his ankle. “We’ve never seen them like this,” she says.
Felix twists around and spots Baltar. With a startled “oh!” he moves to his feet. “I’m sorry, Doctor, I mean, Mr. President,” and Baltar would swear that he can feel the heat on the man’s face from this far away.
“It’s all right,” Baltar reassures. “Go on, sit back down.”
Felix eases back down on the rock, his posture stiffer, less natural. Baltar almost wants to go, but a flick from Klari’s tail and a glare stop that idea in its tracks. Baltar steps over to Felix and sits next to him, mentally lamenting the dirt that will inevitably get on his suit.
Felix’s daemon watches them for a moment, posted upright on a rock in the middle of the dashing water, but as Klari climbs into Baltar’s lap, the otter plunges deep into the water.
“Aren’t you worried about the danger?” Baltar asks.
“Hmm?”
“The current,” clarifies Baltar. “Or any natural predators around here, after all, we haven’t had terribly much time to survey, have we?”
“She can take care of herself,” Felix dismisses, his eyes fixed on the flowing water. He relents, for a moment. “There was river behind my house on Caprica,” he tells Baltar. “White-water, a lot faster than this one. We used to go canoeing together.”
“So you decided to, ah, ditch the festivities,” questions Baltar, “and go off on your own?”
Felix shoots him a tight smile. “Festivities were never really my thing.” He looks back out.
No, Baltar supposes that festivities haven’t really been Felix’s thing. Even in the mildly social events on the Galactica, Felix held back a little, his daemon quiet and content.
Really, Baltar has never seen Felix’s daemon show much activity at all - this is completely foreign. Felix even strains a little, like if he could, he would let go of the land completely and float away; meanwhile, his daemon dashes in the current, surrounded by the freedom of the water.
And Baltar realizes, despite all his conversations with Felix, he still doesn’t know what Felix’s daemon is called.
“What’s her name?” Baltar gestures out to the otter - she dips below the surface, leaving barely a ripple.
“Alexandra,” says Felix.
“Alexandra,” echoes Baltar. “It’s pretty.”
Felix ducks his head, with a murmured thanks; Baltar can remember it now, a half-image of Felix’s mouth twisted to a smile, his daemon climbing from his arms to his shoulder. What had he called her? -Allie. That was it. Allie.
Short for Alexandra, of course.
“Did you always know what form she would take?” asks Baltar, “or was it a surprise?”
Felix looks shy, maybe with a tingle of nostalgia, and Baltar leans forward, his hand curling in Klari’s fur. He wants to hear this, he realizes. He really, genuinely wants to know this about Felix Gaeta.
“I always knew,” says Felix. “I remember when I was six years old,” with a little bit of an embarrassed smile, “at a family picnic, I told all my aunts and uncles that Allie - Alexandra - would be an otter forever.” He shakes his head. “They laughed, of course, told me that a lot would change between now and then. Then in high school, between my sophomore and junior years - well, one day she changed from a crane to an otter. And I knew that she wouldn’t be changing anymore.” He’s silent for a moment, eyes staring towards nothing at all. Then he shakes himself out of his reverie, and looks to Baltar. “How about you?”
“Well, I never gave it much thought, really,” says Baltar. “Somewhere along the way I realized she hadn’t changed in a while, and when I asked her, she said she wouldn’t anymore.” Klari nudges his hand, nestles into his lap, and Baltar smiles involuntarily. “All that changing was tiresome,” he continues. “I much prefer it this way.”
Felix is more comfortable now - if Baltar’s questions are unexpected or unnerving, it certainly doesn’t show. “I’m not sure I agree,” says Felix, his gaze drawn back out to the waves. “I mean, I’d never trade Allie, not for anything, but sometimes -”
Alexandra bursts out of the water and onto the rock, between them. “Trade me?” she shrieks, and she dashes playfully at Felix, digging her claws into his tanks. “Trade me? I’ll give you ‘trade me’!” She attacks Felix’s side, and he laughs helplessly, scrambling to get a grip on her water-slick fur.
“Ew,” complains Felix, once he has a grip. “You’re going to get me all wet,” but when she climbs into his lap and nuzzles his neck, all he does is hold her close, run his fingers through the damp of her back.
Baltar can’t help but watch. This is a completely different side of Felix and Alexandra - something sweet and delicate and happy, and it warms a piece of Baltar that he didn’t remember existed.
Alexandra slithers to the rock, leaving a wet trail on Felix’s clothes, and she cocks her head at Klari. Baltar realizes what’s about to happen just an instant before Klari bolts - Alexandra makes chase, dodging around Baltar to flee after the fox daemon.
”Allie!” Felix calls, incredulous.
Klari is faster than Alexandra - on the land, at least - but she circles around a tree and Alexandra catches up, pouncing and letting the fox roll her to the ground.
Baltar turns away from the frolicking daemons.
“I don’t think I ever thanked you,” says Baltar. “For uncovering the election, Roslin, well, you know.”
Felix looks shy again. “I was just doing my job,” he explains, but Baltar shakes his head.
“Thank you,” he says. “Really. Thank you.” Right now, on this planet, it feels like all of Baltar’s dreams have come true, like he’s at the top and everyone is looking up to him, like there’s a new beginning and that maybe he can make up for what he’s done.
There’s a trilling noise from the daemons, and Baltar feels a shiver go up his spine. When he looks, Klari still has Alexandra pinned down, but Alexandra is licking her, cleaning the dirt from their brief run off of Klari’s fur.
When Baltar turns back to Felix, there’s something odd twisting Felix’s expression. Some kind of longing, maybe, too deep to hold inside.
“Felix,” starts Baltar, but somehow, he can’t find the words. Instead, he does the one thing that he can - he kisses Felix.
The way Felix leans into him, the soft noise of want, the way Felix’s hand cups his cheek - it’s all that he expected and nothing that he expected at once. Baltar scoots closer and parts his lips, coaxing in Felix’s tongue.
Baltar feels amazingly light - maybe it’s the .91 gravity, but he feels like he could do anything, like he could defeat the entire Cylon army by spitting, or crush Model Six under his heel. Maybe shut her up in a prison, inside Baltar’s own mind, so she and her panther daemon could never torment him again.
“Gaius?” Felix breathes.
Baltar registers the brush of fur by his arm. Klari has returned, and in front of him, Alexandra flows onto Felix, snuggling into his ribs.
“Can I touch her?” Baltar asks.
Felix freezes.
Baltar knows why; the taboo against touching another’s daemon is ingrained, set in stone. It’s a horrible breach of protocol. It’s disgusting, dirty, evil in some kind of unspeakable, intimate way. Baltar has never touched another’s daemon before. He’s never wanted to.
“All right.” Felix’s voice trembles, almost on the verge of a stammer. Alexandra flinches, but she doesn’t move away, and Baltar reaches out, until he feels the slight damp against his palm, the fuzzy softness of her fur drying in the sunlight. A shock of lightning runs down Baltar’s stomach.
He’s listened to all sorts of scientific theories on daemons and what they really are, what they represent, and he’s listened politely to all of them and maybe even believed one or two. But right now, he knows for certain. The otter that he’s touching, that’s pushing its head against his hand and crooning so quietly he can barely hear it - she’s Felix Gaeta’s soul.
Baltar glances up at Felix, once, and then takes Alexandra into his hands, lifting her and resting her in the crook of his arm. Felix inhales sharply, a little shocked, and when Baltar looks back at him, his eyes are wide and dark.
Alexandra trills and bites affectionately at Baltar’s arm.
“She’s beautiful,” says Baltar, finally finding his voice. Then he feels something, something dizzying and disorienting, and he realizes that Klari has a paw on Felix’s leg, sniffing in the palm of his hand. Felix glances to Baltar for permission, then he touches her, smoothes the fur on top of her head.
“Oh,” exhales Felix, “she’s softer than I was expecting.”
Klari darts into Felix’s arms. Baltar feels tingly, touched and cherished and raw, and he thinks that he might be in love. This isn’t something that people share - not people like them, who are barely colleagues. This is hardly something that even the most longtime of lovers share with one another, but it feels so wonderful, so intense that Baltar’s heartbeat is pounding, and he can feel Alexandra’s pulse too, under his fingertips.
Eventually, as if by mutual agreement, Felix releases Klari and Baltar lets Alexandra drop to the ground. Baltar is immediately disappointed, bereft, and he remembers that eventually Felix is going back to the Galactica.
“Do you enjoy the military?” Baltar blurts.
Felix looks up from where he’s scratching under Alexandra’s chin. “Ah,” he says.
“Because I want you to stay.” There, he said it; there’s no going back.
Felix is taken aback. “I,” he says, “I’ll think about it, Gaius-”
“Think hard, okay?” Baltar kisses Felix again, deeper and longer, until Felix breathes too quickly, and his face is flushed. “Think hard,” he repeats, lamely, and all he can do is watch as Felix gathers Alexandra into his arms and retreats, glancing back once, twice over his shoulder.
Baltar sits down heavily, on the rock. Klari stares as though mesmerized at the water in the river.
“What is it?” Baltar asks.
“I just wondered,” says Klari, “what it would be like to swim in.”
~*~