Devils and Black Sheep, 2/4 (Battlestar Galactica)

[cerebel]

See Part 1 for pairings/rating/warnings.

-  -  -

When Felix awakens, Gaius’ arm is still around him, their skin sticky from where it’s been in contact so long. Felix can still smell the sweat from the night before, and he tenses, wondering if he should leave the bed for the pallet in the corner, get further away from the pirate.

Gaius’ hand grasps at Felix’s shoulder. “Go back to sleep,” Gaius slurs, such that Felix can barely understand it.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” says Felix.

“Sssh,” and Gaius slides a hand up, covering Felix’s mouth. Felix licks at Gaius’ palm, and he feels more than hears Gaius’ sharp intake of breath, against the back of Felix’s neck. The hand slides, and Felix takes a finger into his mouth, gliding his tongue all the way down, suckling, biting just a little.

The pirate took something from Felix last night, something deeply personal and close, and Felix - Felix has to know if he took something in return, from Gaius Baltar -

Felix hums around two of Gaius’ fingers, and he feels Gaius’ other hand move to his neck, the fingers withdraw. Gaius finds his mouth, tilting Felix’s head back, dipping in with his tongue. Felix can feel the growing stiffness of Gaius’ erection, against his back, and he feels ridiculously pleased, somehow, like the way he felt as a novice sailor every time he earned the captain’s approval.

Gaius pulls him, so that Felix is the one on top, sprawled across Gaius’ chest. This angle is easier, and Gaius licks further inside Felix’s mouth, stealing Felix’s air away.

“Still want to go back to sleep?” asks Felix, not resisting a grin.

Gaius tilts his head, hair in a sleep-mussed tangle on the pillow. “There are better pastimes than sleep,” Gaius admits, and he guides Felix’s hand to his cock, catching Felix’s mouth again, biting at Felix’s lips.

Felix steels himself and he ducks down, within the angle of Gaius’ legs, and he licks, ever so tentatively, at Gaius’ erection.

“Oh, Felix,” says Gaius, breathy, his erection swollen and red, hot against Felix’s palm. Felix stretches his jaw open, slides the head into his mouth, and further, as far as he can take it in, and he feels Gaius’ hand move to clasp the side of his face. It eases the angle, and it’s easier, then, to go deeper.

Gaius hisses something that might have been a “yes”, and he thrusts, not enough to choke Felix, but startling, disorienting all the same. Felix retreats, pulls in a breath of air, and dips down again, tonguing, sucking, licking, as much as he can. When Gaius comes, it’s with a tighter grip on Felix, a gasped groan and a flood of semen on Felix’s tongue, before he can pull away. Felix swallows convulsively, wincing a little at the taste, and he moves up to nuzzle Gaius’ neck. He’s still hard, still aching…

“Mmm,” murmurs Gaius, “come here,” and he guides Felix’s mouth to his, not showing the least bit of trepidation at the bitter salt tang still in Felix’s mouth. Felix moans softly, and Gaius takes Felix’s erection in hand, gripping a little too strong, moving a little too slow.

Felix nips at Gaius’ neck, clutches at him, but Gaius just licks the edge of his ear, keeps the strokes long and firm. He doesn’t let Felix squirm, doesn’t let him go faster.

Felix comes with a cry, trembling with intensity. He finds himself gathered up in Gaius’ arms again, held and stroked and soothed, until he relaxes enough, recovers enough breath to think.

“That,” says Gaius, “is how every day should begin.”

-                       -                       -                       -

The sea-salt wind is refreshing, and so very welcome - it caresses Felix’s skin, draws through his hair and his clothes, fills the sails of the ship and stretches into the distance, towards the horizon. After days trapped inside the cabin with Gaius Baltar, it’s a gift heaven-sent.

“So, this is the first time you’ve seen her in the light,” says Gaius, leaning against the mast. “What do you think of her?”

The ship, of course, is what he means. Felix glances again, aft to stern, and he smiles. She has an elegance of line, a fleet, dashing speed above the water. He can feel it all the way to his bones. “She’s beautiful.”

“Don’t know if you’ve heard,” drawls Gaius, “but we call her the Scarlet Maiden. Just the Maiden, for short.”

“After someone you know?” Felix asks.

Gaius’ mouth twists to a wistful smile. “I used to,” he says, barely audible over the rush of the wind. Then, as though someone had called to him, Gaius twists around, his eyes tracking to the horizon.

Felix follows his gaze, and there, so far in the distance - it might be nothing, it might be -

“Sail!” someone calls from the crow’s nest, high above the ship. “Sail, to starboard!”

Gaius grits his teeth. “Probably British,” he decides, “but we’ll know soon enough.” He steps towards the middle of the deck. “Come about!” he shouts, “set course to intercept!”

A ragged cheer rises from the men and women in the rigging, along the deck of the ship. In minutes, the sails are larger, much more visible, and Gaius watches through a spyglass as the other ship begins to maneuver.

“They trying to get away?” asks the blonde woman, the one from before, who advocated leaving Felix behind on the Starbright.

Gaius looks askance at her. “Does it really matter, Kara? They won’t get away.”

The woman rolls her eyes. “Gods save us from idiot captains.” She tugs the glass away and watches.

“Kara?” Felix asks, in an undertone.

“Kara Thrace,” Baltar returns. Of course; Kara Thrace. Her name isn’t as well known as Gaius Baltar’s, but on the list of famous pirates, she’s probably very high.

“They’re running,” Thrace announces. “Lash the sails! Heave what we can spare!”

“You’re concerned for nothing,” Gaius informs her, taking the glass back. “She has the profile of a merchantman, they’re not built for speed.”

“They’ve fooled us before by disguising a ship of the line as a merchantman,” returns Thrace. “They have good captains.”

“But, inevitably, military captains,” Gaius points out, “and therefore uncreative, at least on some level.”

The exchange has the air of an argument that has been tossed back and forth many, many times before, but Felix still watches in fascination. Thrace is obviously close in rank to Gaius Baltar; just as clearly, he’s the captain, so she must be the first mate?

Interminable seconds pass, and then Gaius straightens, lowering the spyglass. “They’ve raised the British flag,” he announces.

“Fly the colors!” calls Thrace.

The cry is echoed, though the crewmembers, and a ragged, silky black flag slowly ascends - until, at the top, it flutters out, catching the wind, the bold-white skull and crossbones arching free over the Maiden.

“Hah,” says Gaius, peering through the glass again. “Now they’re really running.”

It always seems amazing to Felix how the time flies during sea combat - in minutes, it seems, they close on the other ship, even though there’s a buildup of sweat under Felix’s palms and his fingers almost hurt from where they were gripping the balustrade.

Finally, the British ship decides it’s better to fight than to run; she makes a swing to port, as Felix watches, and lets loose a broadside on the Maiden’s front.

Most of the iron falls short; Felix feels one impact, probably barely above the waterline.

“Firing too early,” scoffs Thrace. “Typical.”

“Now, tell me again,” murmurs Gaius, “which one of us is the overconfident one?” and then, “Hard to port….NOW!”

The ship swings, fairly violently - she’s good at maneuvering - and, on time, the Maiden’s cannons fire. If not all, then most of the shots hit - Felix guesses he could hear the panic on the other ship, if the cannons hadn’t half-deafened him.

But, actually, there’s something about the crew on the other ship that seems odd…in fact, a good portion of them aren’t even working the sails, they’re just standing there. Almost like -

Felix tugs at Gaius’ shirt. “Gaius, look,” he says, lowly. “Those aren’t sailors.”

Gaius does, holding remarkably still as the other ship fires cannons - too late, as the Maiden has already sailed past them, started to turn for another pass.

“They’re holding weapons,” says Thrace, peering through a spyglass of her own. “Rifles, looks like.”

Gaius hisses through his teeth. “You’re right,” he says, aside to Felix. “Those aren’t sailors. They’re Marines.”

“We should call this off,” says Thrace.

“No, no.” Gaius shakes his head, raising the glass again. “There aren’t very many, we can still win.”

“They’re Marines, Gaius.”

“And if they’re Marines,” he says, through gritted teeth, “on a merchant ship, that means one thing, and one thing only.”

“What’s that?” asks Felix.

“Pirate hunters,” answers Gaius. “And I do not want pirate-hunters in my ocean.”

Felix sends a panicked glance at Thrace, but she shakes her head. “If you want a fight, Gaius,” she says, “you got one.”

On the next pass, the pirates all take some kind of cover, from bullets - Marines are notoriously accurate sharpshooters, but they don’t tend to take cover. Pirates, Felix notes, with mild amusement, seem to have ‘taking cover’ down to an art.

Cannons fire; bullets hail, and Felix sees at least one Marine on the other ship fall.

On the next pass, Gaius declares that it’s enough. He sends the call to board, and dozens of pirates swing to the other vessel. The noise of the fight is deafening - pistols sound, swords clash. People yell.

Felix spots a sword on a fallen pirate, and he makes for it, and the knife and pistol next to it. One check, for powder and shot, and he’s armed - so much better, this way, with a sword in his hand. At least now he has a chance to defend himself.

And it doesn’t take long for him to need it - many of the pirates may have jumped to the other ship, but presently, the Marines jump to the Maiden.

Felix braces his arm and aims carefully, just ahead of a Marine on his way to the Maiden. He squeezes the trigger just before the Marine passes through the sightline - and watches as the man loses grip on the rope and falls into the water. Two more shots, and he clips one more, but still, too many men manage to land on the Maiden’s deck.

The pirates rush them, but it’s ragged, shaky, and Felix gets the feeling that the pirates aren’t used to a fight of this level, even though they have no shortage of fighting spirit.

Felix manages to get three more shots off before a Marine knocks the gun out of his hand. Felix brings up the sword more on instinct than conscious thought; the clang of impact rocks through his wrist, and he lashes out, his heel connecting with the Marine’s knee. The man staggers back, but he soon presses forward again, the strokes of his sword too quick and too professional for Felix to follow.

Time to think like a pirate. Felix barely manages to parry a rough blow, then he twists in, under the Marine’s guard, and knifes him just below his arm.

The Marine’s sword clatters to the ground, shortly followed by the Marine himself, and Felix moves on.

The next minutes were a blur. Felix remembers shooting again, dropping the knife when someone stamps on his fingers - he kept hold of the sword, though, because he still had it when the fight was over, though it was beaded with crimson. At some point Gaius came back from the other ship, realizing his own needed defending, and anytime Felix looked up he could see the man, sword flashing in the sunlight, dodging gracefully from his opponents.

He remembers, too, seeing a man try to creep up on Gaius from behind. There was only one bullet left in the gun and Felix used it - the man fell before he had any chance to spring his attack.

Gaius sent Felix one look, a surprised, grateful look, before he was beset again.

And then - then it was over.

-                       -                       -                       -

It’s only after, in Gaius’ cabin again, that Felix realizes he has injuries. A bullet grazed the side of his scalp, spilling enough blood that it soaked the collar of his shirt, and there’s a long, shallow cut down the side of his arm. Plus the bruises, but Felix supposes he’ll probably find out the precise location of those the next day, when they really start hurting.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” asks Gaius, stripping off his shirt. He’s better off than Felix, but he still has a jagged cut over his ribs.

“I didn’t exactly grow up on a manor,” says Felix, but he doesn’t explain beyond that. He doesn’t dwell on his childhood.

Gaius moves over to Felix and presses gentle fingers into Felix’s cheek. He hisses sympathetically, and dabs a wet cloth over the blood, cleaning it off. The touch is surprisingly easy, less painful than Felix expects. He doesn’t look at Gaius, feeling embarrassment rise to his face.

“What’s wrong?” asks Gaius.

Felix shrugs. “I just,” he begins, and pauses to take a breath. “I’ve never had anyone but a surgeon do this.”

“No surgeons here,” says Gaius.

“Yeah,” says Felix, softly. He tilts his head at the feel of the cloth; Gaius dabs upwards, slowly, but surely, clearing away the half-dried blood on his neck.

“It’s stopped bleeding,” says Gaius. “Looks shallow. You were lucky.”

“Not as lucky as you,” murmurs Felix.

Gaius sits next to him. “It’s been bothering me,” he admits. “Marines should have put up more of a fight. The only thing I can think is the British are so insistent to wipe out pirate scum forever that they’ve taken to spreading the worst of their forces anywhere they can shove them.” He tosses the cloth down. “An attempt to wear us down by attrition.”

“Will it work?” Felix asks, in spite of himself.

Gaius lets out a bark of laughter. “No, of course not.” He kisses Felix, and Felix draws back, breaking the kiss early. “Piracy has an indefinable appeal, a kind of freedom every soul longs to taste.”

“That’s funny,” mutters Felix, “because I thought piracy’s appeal was in murder and looting.”

“And yet,” muses Gaius, “you were on the deck today, pistol and sword in your hand.”

“Self-defense,” Felix justifies.

Gaius nods. “Oh, I see,” he says, “the British aren’t exactly a friend of the Spanish, are they? Either the Armada or the merchants?”

Felix shifts uncomfortably. “So?”

“So,” and Gaius kisses Felix’s neck, “you’re not really on our side, are you? You’re still on your own.”

“I don’t like piracy,” says Felix.

“Well,” Gaius murmurs, “we’ll see if we can change your mind about that.” He kisses Felix again, and this time Felix doesn’t pull away, he just meets Gaius’ tongue, almost shyly. On some level, he still can’t believe the turn his life has taken -

Gaius helps Felix undress the rest of the way, hands easing sore and bruised limbs. The pain would be much worse the next day, but it wasn’t anything Felix had never suffered before. Gaius’ touch, though, soothes him, as though Gaius were reaching beneath the skin and stroking the pain away.

Felix leans down and kisses Gaius, before he gives himself a chance to think about it, and Gaius smiles against his mouth.

Before long, Felix is gasping, groaning into Gaius’ neck, trying fruitlessly to resist the urge to push into Gaius’ grip. Gaius’ hands are so skilled, so clever, and it’s making Felix lose what little control he had left.

Felix pulls back, with an effort, and lets Gaius press their lips together, dig his tongue into Felix’s mouth. “Gaius,” Felix breathes, when they pull apart. “Will you let me-?” Felix is hardly able to believe he framed the question, and he can barely think of it, besides half-images, written in sweat.

Gaius cocks his head to the side. “You did save my life, after all,” he muses, with an easy smile. “I’m yours.”

Felix stifles the stab of eroticism that sends through him, and he guides Gaius to his stomach, slicking his fingers with the oil Gaius used before. It’s short work to open Gaius up - he stretches easily, and Felix is nearly certain that Gaius has done this before, probably often - and then Felix’s erection is at Gaius’ entrance, and then he’s pushing inside Gaius Baltar…

Felix gasps from it - the warmth, the heat, the intimacy so great he thinks he might die from it. He can feel the relaxation in Gaius’ form, how Gaius let this happen, submitted to it, and yet the muscles inside still clench, and slowly relax, like Gaius isn’t quite so sure of it as he wants to believe.

Felix licks along the salt-sweat tang of Gaius’ neck, and he feels the quiet moan. “Oh, yes,” breathes Gaius, sprawling his legs further open.

The skin is slick under Felix’s fingertips when he slides his hand up Gaius’ ribs, around to his chest, and down, further - Gaius’ fingers, to Felix’s surprise, meet his, and they interlace over Gaius’ stomach.

One kiss, pressed to the side of Gaius’ neck, and Felix starts to move, into the willing body beneath him. Gaius rises to meet his thrusts, and Felix feels Gaius’ hand clench, from a stab of sensation too intense to control.

There, just there - Felix thrusts, more at a downward angle, and Gaius jerks, all around him, half-collapsing to the bed. “My gods,” he gasps, “more,” and Felix thrusts harder, longer, deeper. Gaius shifts, a better angle, and Felix can’t believe it, the depth of heat, the amazing feel of Gaius Baltar in his arms, truly in his arms.

Felix feels Gaius’ hand steal to excite himself, maybe push himself over the edge, and Felix barely manages to catch Gaius wrist. No, no, he wants it all, he wants to feel Gaius locked in ecstasy underneath him, feel his pleasure from the inside.

Felix strokes Gaius’ erection, feeling the breathless whimper that shivers Gaius’ form. The two of them are so close, so amazingly close - what are the odds, that Felix would find Gaius and feel this kind of connection with anyone, in the cold darkness of the outside world -

Felix cries out, breathlessly, and he feels Gaius convulse beneath him, clenching tight. Felix holds on, and he feels Gaius move to take his hand again, as the worst shocks of orgasm subside.

The retreat is careful - Felix pulls out as slow as he can, and Gaius collapses, limp, on the bed. There’s a silence, as both of them recover their breath.

“Mmm,” says Gaius, finally, “that was wonderful,” and he rolls over, closer to Felix’s form.

Felix studies Gaius’ face, feeling like there’s something he wants to say, something tearing and ripping to get out of his chest, but all that comes to his throat is silence. He settles for kissing Gaius, chaste, and pulling him closer still.

-                       -                       -                       -

Felix awakens when it’s still dark inside the cabin. Gaius is nestled into his chest, tangled so close that it’s almost impossible to separate the lines of their bodies under the blanket. In the half-light, he can’t quite make out Gaius’ face, but he feels very well the warmth from Gaius’ skin, and there’s a stir of affection, deep inside him.

He fights the sudden urge to get off the bed. He was raised to hate pirates - he does hate pirates, he hates piracy, of course. Piracy is theft; it’s murder, it’s a glorification of destruction that hurts innocent people.

Felix touches the edge of Gaius’ cheekbone, and he waits until dawn.

-                       -                       -                       -

The morning dawns misty and cool on the deck of the Maiden. Felix stands next to Gaius, breathing the wind, hearing the rush of the sea.

Maybe Gaius is right, maybe there’s something free, something wild about piracy that means it will never be crushed…

“The Island!” comes a cry, from the crow’s nest, high above the ship. “The Island, straight ahead!”

“Perfect,” sighs Gaius. “We’re almost home.”

“Home?” Felix asks, but Gaius doesn’t respond. Instead, he snaps orders, to tighten this sail, loosen that one, further starboard, you fool, watch the approach, gods, does he have to do everything himself? Is everyone on this ship incompetent? And would someone get that cat out of his way?

“Hold this, will you?” says Lampkin, tossing a coil of rope into Felix’s hands, and conjuring a dead fish into his hands. Felix catches the rope, awkwardly, his fingers scrabbling, and Lampkin wiggles the fish in the vague direction of the cat. “Here, Lance!”

The cat displays cautious interest.

“I hate this cat,” sighs Lampkin, and he throws the fish.

As Felix watches, the cat - Lance - leaps into the air, and, in an amazing feat of back-flipping acrobatics, nabs the fish out of the air. He slinks into a corner, dragging the fish behind him.

“That should keep ‘im out of the way.” Lampkin turns back to Felix. “Thanks,” and he takes the rope back.

And finally, Felix can spare his eyes for the rapidly approaching island.

It’s not any port he’s ever seen. The island looks overgrown, amazingly green, with the grey scar of a steep mountain rising from the far end. As they drift closer, Felix realizes the island is much bigger than he originally estimated - in fact, there’s a dark hole in the base of the mountain, and, as he realizes, that’s exactly where they’re headed. It doesn’t look nearly the height to accommodate the Scarlet Maiden in her sails and glory, but they get closer and closer, finally maneuvering to slip just inside the cavern entrance, and Felix realizes that the cave could accommodate the Maiden easily, with space enough for half of her height again.

His attention quickly turns to the surroundings, within the cavern. The tunnel is small, relatively, but it quickly widens into what amounts to an entire dock, lit by torches and by the reflected light from outside.

Felix can’t contain the sharp inhale. It’s amazing, and if the authorities knew about this place -

“What do you think?” asks Gaius, raising his chin in pride.

“I,” begins Felix, but he stops. “I don’t know what to think.” He turns to Gaius. “What’s it called?”

Gaius pauses, then. He frowns. “Pirate Cove.”

“Really,” deadpans Felix. “And the island?”

“Pirate Island.”

Felix nods, slowly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Very subtle.”

Gaius raises his hands, palms outward. “I didn’t name it!”

The ship glides to a stop next to one of the docks, the crew hopping off to rope it, securely, to the wooden posts along the dock’s edge.

“How are we going to get out?” asks Felix, suddenly. “There’s no wind in here.”

Gaius shrugs. “No one knows. Some say there’s a current underneath the water, some say it’s a sea monster that pushes the ship free, some say it’s magic,” and Gaius’ tone voices his disapproval of that school of thought, “but whatever it is, it takes us out, when we’re ready to go.”

Felix watches as the pirate crew disembark, hopping down to the wood of the dock.

“Aren’t you worried about the ship being stolen?” Felix asks, looking to the abandoned Maiden.

“No,” says Gaius. “No one would dare.”

As he climbs down, Felix spots a glint in the water, below the dock. On a closer look, there are hundreds of glints, thousands - the floor of the cavern is coated with gold, silver, coins and jewelry and cups and more.

Gaius follows his glance. “Everyone tosses in a piece before they leave the island. Supposedly, to appease the spirits of the pirates who’ve died at sea.”

“You don’t believe it?” asks Felix.

Gaius shrugs. “It’s harmless,” he says, not really answering the question. “You can nab something from another pirate, that’s fine, and a little respect for the unknowable never did anyone any harm.” Gaius cocks his head. “Now, come on,” he says, “I’m going to show you Pirate City.”

-                       -                       -                       -

As far as Felix can tell, Pirate City is a permanent barfight.

The city is nestled outside of the cavern, at the base of the mountain. ‘City’ is probably a misnomer - there really isn’t that much here, more the size of a village than a town. But it’s built like a city, with old stone streets and permanent buildings. And people, crammed everywhere, often with swords and/or knives drawn, dashing clumsily at one another, yelling drunkenly. At least two thirds of the buildings hold bars or pubs, and the rest have alcohol in some form or another available. And honestly, Felix has never seen quite so many out-of-control people in one place in his entire life.

There might be only the crews of three or four ships here, plus probably some permanent population, to man and support the shops…but with the size of the city, it feels like many, many more.

Gaius slips through the crowds, simply bumping people out of the way when they don’t move fast enough. Felix quickly learns that the best way to move is to stay just behind him, within the small cleared space of Gaius’ wake.

Gaius leads him straight to a pub called the “Captain’s Head”, complete with a fairly gruesome painting of a bodyless pirate head on the creaking wooden sign. When Gaius notices Felix staring, he nudges him with an elbow. “It’s a joke, Felix.”

The pirate’s tone is, somehow, unconvincing.

Gaius opens the door to reveal an incredibly huge pirate filling the door frame, looming above the two of them, raising his gigantic, meaty fist -

“Oh, really,” sighs Gaius, and he sucker-punches the other pirate under the chin. He teeters, then falls, as though in slow motion, finally crashing to the floor, limp and unconscious.

Gaius picks his way in over the prone pirate, to scattered applause from within the pub.

“What’ll it be, Cap’n?” asks the grizzled old man at the bar - the bartender.

“One for me, one for my friend,” says Gaius, clapping Felix on the back. “Make it quick.”

“You got it, sir,” drones the bartender.

Gaius spins in the bar chair, facing Felix. “Only captains can come here,” he explains, “Captains, and whatever they bring along. So, it’s probably the quietest bar in Pirate City.”

“Cleanest, too,” the bartender growls, thudding two drinks down.

“I believe it,” says Felix, and the bartender grunts in acknowledgement and vague appreciation.

Gaius snaps at the bartender. “And we’ll be having a room,” he announces. “With one bed. Biggest you have.”

Felix flushes.

“Done and done,” and the bartender trundles away, half-muttering to himself.

As soon as he’s gone, Gaius lets a smile twist the corner of his mouth. “He likes you,” he tells Felix.

Felix rolls his eyes.

-                       -                       -                       -

“Do you treat all your captives this way?” asks Felix, trying to recover his breath. Gaius’ fingers rest between his thighs, on the slickness there, showing the truth of what they’ve been doing. As though the ache within Felix hasn’t shown that already.

“Hmm?” Gaius strokes up Felix’s spine.

“Use them for sex,” says Felix, the bluntness belied by the twinkle in his eyes.

“Only the pretty ones,” answers Gaius, with a wicked grin. He climbs on top of Felix and claims the younger man’s mouth. Once pulled away, he props himself on his elbows. “Well,” he considers, “most of them insist on struggling or saying no. It’s really rather tiresome.”

Felix looks taken aback. “Tiresome?”

“I don’t take what isn’t freely given,” Gaius emphasizes. “And you,” with a kiss pressed to Felix’s collarbone, “sweet Felix,” and another, to Felix’s neck, “gave yourself,” to Felix’s jaw, “so very freely.”

Felix opens to Gaius’ tongue, almost mewling into Baltar’s mouth.

How could he ever find something this perfect…Felix isn’t sure that anyone in the world could make him feel the way Gaius is, right here, right now.

-                       -                       -                       -

The next morning, Felix swipes a coin from Gaius’ treasure collection. When they go to the dock, he drops it into the water, watching the glitter of the metal as it falls to the bottom.

Goodbye, Felix thinks.

“Was that mine?” asks Baltar.

Felix shrugs. “Maybe.”

“You scoundrel.”

Felix responds with a grin, hauling himself to the deck of the Maiden. Gaius stands next to him, watching the crew meander back, many of whom look as though they had a lot of fun the night before, and not so much fun earlier that morning.

“Oh, did I tell you,” says Gaius, overly casually, “our navigator was injured in the fight with the Marines. As it so happens, we’re in need of a new one.” He turns to Felix. “Say, you wouldn’t want to fill that post, would you?”

Felix just smiles.

The feel of the tiller under Felix’s hand is just perfect. One glance over the chart, and he realizes the location of the island - no wonder no one knows where it is; it’s off of the commonly used trading routes in this part of the seas. It might remain undiscovered indefinitely.

Felix’s hand tightens on the wood.

Eventually, the entire crew has trickled back, including Kara Thrace and Lampkin, his cat tucked under his arm contentedly. Thrace looks to Gaius, and Gaius surveys the crew.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he calls. “Set the sails! Loose the ropes!”

The crew jumps to Gaius’ command, and soon the ship is sailing, slowly but surely, out of the windless cavern.

It’s eerie, it really is. Felix wonders at it, but he knows he’ll never have the chance to find out.

It’s not long, then, before they’re in the open sea, Felix’s hand at the helm. He understands now, he thinks, the kind of freedom that a pirate has.

“Where to, do you think?” asks Gaius, shading his eyes against the sun.

“How about Spain?” asks Felix softly, his heart pounding.

Gaius holds his gaze for a moment, then he nods. “Spain it is.”

Felix sets the course; the shouts carry from one end of the ship to another. The ship practically leaps to her new direction - she maneuvers so easy, so precisely. And yet, Felix can barely stop his hand from trembling on the wheel.

-                       -                       -                       -

The Spanish port is almost disturbingly familiar. They dock at the more unsavory edge, of course - the edge where the fee for docking is extra coin for a shut mouth. The dockmasters on this end know the value of pirates as customers - at the other end, the ships would more likely be boarded and seized.

The shops are the same, though; the people are the same. It’s as though Felix never left. He remembers stories, from his childhood, about heroes who left their land and journeyed, far and wide, and when they came back their home had changed so much as to be unrecognizable. But here, the opposite had happened: it was Felix himself who changed.

Felix lingers on the Maiden for nearly the entire stay - the night before they leave he clings to Gaius with a new passion, something stirring and deep that he’s never felt before. And yet…

In the morning, Felix feigns more exhaustion than he feels, and Gaius smiles. “We’ll disembark without you,” Gaius tells him. “Come out when you wake up.”

Felix kisses him and then eases back to the bed.

When the door closes behind Gaius, Felix springs into action. He gets dressed quickly, and slips out the door of the cabin. Gaius is on the far side of the ship, calling commands; Felix moves to the side of the ship and drops, landing a little too hard on the dock.

None of the pirates spot him, though, and he watches, from the quay, as the Scarlet Maiden glides from the harbor without him.

It takes a supreme strength of will to keep going, but Felix does. He takes the steps to the town two at a time, and he begins the long road to the mansions, on the other side of town. To one mansion, in particular.

-                       -                       -                       -

The servant’s entrance buzzes with activity. Here, a young man empties a pail of fetid water; here, a boy runs from the entrance, a letter clutched in his hand. Felix approaches with caution, until a servant-woman spots him. She stands squarely in his path, hands on her hips.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” she asks, chin up.

“I’m looking for Anastasia Dualla,” says Felix.

The woman looks suspicious.

“Dee,” Felix clarifies. Then, “she’s my friend.”

She nods, slowly. “Dee!” she shouts, over her shoulder. “There’s a pirate here to see you!”

Some of the work in the yard slows. A few of the servants snigger. “Don’t even joke about that,” comes Dee’s voice from within the servant’s house. “That’s not even-” Rounding the corner, she stops short at the sight of Felix.

Felix has to admit, he probably does look like a pirate. Scavenged clothing, sea and sun-tanned skin. He should have been more careful in town - at least he doesn’t have a P tattooed into his arm.

“Felix!” Dee exclaims, dashing to him and hugging him tight. “I heard your ship was attacked by pirates! You didn’t come back - what happened?” Then she wrinkles her nose. “Eugh, and you smell terrible.”

“Thank you, Dee,” acknowledges Felix, with a rueful smile. “It happens when you’re at sea for weeks at a time.”

Dee takes his hand, tugs him into the house. “Felix, you have to tell me everything. Did the pirates really attack your ship?”

Felix nods, accepting gratefully the cup of water she shoves at him. “They attacked, and they broke me out of my cell on the Starbright.”

“Your cell?” Dee’s eyes widen.

“They thought I was a traitor,” Felix tells her. “But the pirates rescued me, and I stuck with them, and, long story short, I need to talk with Admiral Adama.”

“Why?” she asks.

“I know where their base is.”

Dee looks him up and down. “Well, you can’t go in looking like that.”

-                       -                       -                       -

Freshly washed, and dressed in new clothes, Felix waits outside the entrance to Admiral Bill Adama’s study. There’s a conversation going on inside - pretty heated, by the sound of it. Felix sends a questioning look at Dee.

“His son,” she explains, in an undertone. “The only one in the household who ever talks back to the Admiral.”

“Ah,” murmurs Felix.

The door bursts open, and a young man - Lee Adama, Felix guesses - eyes bright with anger, storms out. He moves past Felix and Dee without a second glance, turning the corner out of their sight.

Admiral Adama, more slowly, moves to the doorway. “Felix Gaeta,” he says, rolling the name on his tongue.

Felix inclines his head. “Good morning, sir.”

Adama nods, gestures for Felix to enter.

“Have we met before?” Adama asks, closing the door behind them.

Felix nods. “We have, sir,” he responds. “I served on one of the ships under your command, as a navigator.”

“I see,” says Adama. “What information do you have on the pirates?”

Felix swallows. The man is certainly straight to business. All right, then. “If you have a navigational chart, sir…?” questions Felix.

Adama gestures towards a map spread on a table in the center of the room. Felix approaches, gets his bearings on the map, then traces the currents with the bare tips of his fingers. “The pirates have a hideout,” says Felix, “here.”

Adama marks the paper. “What shape is it in? How is it defended?”

“The main base,” begins Felix, “is in a cave, underneath a mountain. Their docks are all inside.”

He continues to explain, relating every detail he can remember - even to the treasure on the bottom of the cavern, which seems to interest Admiral Adama very much. He tells about the general debauchery of Pirate City, above, and the extremely non-judicious use of supplies. And, worst of all, he tells about the next port of call for the Scarlet Maiden.

Finally, Admiral Adama is satisfied.

-                       -                       -                       -

Felix can’t sleep that night. He keeps tossing and turning, this way and that - something is missing, missing so badly that it almost hurts.

In the morning, Dee comes in to wake him, but he’s already up, sitting at the windowsill.

“Good news,” she tells him. “Twelve ships sailed this morning, for the Scarlet Maiden’s next port of call. They plan to take her prisoner, then sail for the island you pointed out. They say it should take the better part of a week to get to the island.”

The better part of a week. Where the Maiden made it in a day. Felix bites his lip, and forces a smile. “It’s great news.”

Dee leaves soon after, and with the close of the door, Felix can feel something inside him snap in two.

Oh, Gaius…

Felix has made a terrible mistake.