Fic: The [President's] Office (Battlestar Galactica)
Pairing: Gaeta/Baltar
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: End of season two-ish.
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine.
Notes: Written for millari's birthday. A little late; I've been having trouble finishing birthday gifts lately ~_^
Summary: After all, Felix is the Chief of Staff to the President, isn't he?
- - -
Felix is awake a few minutes before his alarm goes off. It's still dark outside; winter, and the fact that he's an early riser (out of habit and necessity, with his job) mean that he's always awake just before the sun. He has to. After all, he's the Chief of Staff to the President, isn't he?
He sits up, tracing a thumb around the edge of his eyes. Anxious - he's always anxious early in the morning.
With a sigh, he steps out, onto the cold floor, wrapping a bathrobe around his shoulders. Jog first, then breakfast, then a shower, and the anxiety'll be a thing of the past.
~*~
He's in the President's office at exactly 0800 - earlier than the President himself is. Felix used to find this annoying; now, he finds it endearing. Almost cute. Which is kind of horrifying, in and of itself.
Four folders on the President's desk. Mostly about internal security. There's a lot of that to worry about, these days.
His own office is adjacent to the President's. He can't count the number of times Gaius Baltar has wandered in, upset at one new political development or another. Ranting almost incoherently at the wall above and to the right of Felix's head.
Politics isn't Felix's strength. But he's organized, to a fault, and if there's anything that Gaius needs, it's organization.
~*~
"Good morning, Mr. President," says Felix, as Gaius storms in. Not particularly angry or upset, just dramatic, as usual. "The schedule is on your desk."
"Thank you, Felix," says Gaius, thudding back into his chair. "How's the energy bill?"
"Still in committee, sir," says Felix, apologetically.
"And the list of nominees?"
"Second folder, Mr. President."
"Ah. Excellent."
Felix tilts his head. "Is there anything else, sir?"
Gaius meets his eyes, for the first time that day. A little bit of a smile quirks his mouth. "No. Thank you, Felix."
Felix feels a flush, low on his neck. "The security briefing is in ten minutes," he says. "Thank you, Mr. President," with a nod, and he retreats to his office.
It's moments like that, he tells himself. Moments like that are why I do this job.
~*~
"Well," says the press secretary, "people are concerned about what they perceive as 'womanizing'."
Felix raises an eyebrow. "Womanizing?"
She shrugs, helplessly. "The press are having a wonderful time with - what was her name? - Natalie Sexton. She seems more than willing to tell what happened between her and the President, before the election."
"She's lying," Felix points out.
"People don't know that," says the woman. "President Baltar was brought in as a symbol of hope. They want someone who represents the ideal of building a new life, not what they perceive as indications of old-style corruption taking root."
"Can you control this?" asks Felix, with a sigh.
"Of course I'll do my best," says the press secretary.
~*~
Felix has lunch in his office, as usual. A rushed sandwich and a cup of coffee, and he's back to work.
His leg twinges; he massages it, absently, as he reviews a memo from the internal staff. It's an old wound, from when he was in the military - he was just lucky they didn't have to amputate.
~*~
"They're worried about you being a womanizer," says Felix, with a little bit of a laugh - nervous, he's nervous again.
Gaius looks up, slipping his glasses off the edge of his nose. "A - womanizing. Could this get any worse?"
"It's because of -"
"Natalie," interrupts Gaius. "Natalie, Natalie, Natalie, that's all I hear these days. And yes, I have womanized, is that what the press wants to hear?"
Felix's mouth twists. "It may be what the press wants to hear -"
"...but it's certainly not what you want me to tell them. Yes, I know," Gaius sighs. He sits back, on the sofa. "Come here, Felix."
Felix eases down next to him, his heart jumping.
"Come here." Gaius shifts closer, resting his head on Felix's shoulder.
"Sir," says Felix, warily, glancing towards the doors -
"No one's watching," reassures Gaius. "And if they are, they're probably sworn not to tell."
"Probably?" - but the physical contact is easing that knot of tension permanently between Felix's shoulders. Chief of staff isn't an easy job.
And then Gaius tilts his head, moves a little closer, and kisses Felix, draws him into it, tame and slow but passionate all the same. It's just like the first time, just like the second, just like all the other times -
Gaius pulls away. "Spend the night," he says.
"It's too dangerous," objects Felix.
"Nonsense," says Gaius. "You used to spend nights here working all the time."
"It's different now."
"Spend the night," persists Gaius. "Felix."
"No," but Felix's resolve is weakening.
Gaius' fingertips stroke the edge of his face. "I think I'm falling in love with you," he says.
~*~
Felix wakes up the next morning, in the President's bed, a few minutes before his alarm would have gone off, were he at home.
It's a good thing he keeps a spare suit in his office.
He stands, easing out from under Gaius' arm, and starts getting dressed. It's nice that he doesn't have to leave the building to go to work. It's not as nice to wonder who might be watching when he comes and goes - press, staff, anyone. It only takes one person to draw a very uncomfortable conclusion about the President.
~*~
Felix sets the folders on the President's desk, looking out to the view of the White House's lawn through the windows of the Oval Office. It looks like it'll be a beautiful day.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: End of season two-ish.
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine.
Notes: Written for millari's birthday. A little late; I've been having trouble finishing birthday gifts lately ~_^
Summary: After all, Felix is the Chief of Staff to the President, isn't he?
- - -
Felix is awake a few minutes before his alarm goes off. It's still dark outside; winter, and the fact that he's an early riser (out of habit and necessity, with his job) mean that he's always awake just before the sun. He has to. After all, he's the Chief of Staff to the President, isn't he?
He sits up, tracing a thumb around the edge of his eyes. Anxious - he's always anxious early in the morning.
With a sigh, he steps out, onto the cold floor, wrapping a bathrobe around his shoulders. Jog first, then breakfast, then a shower, and the anxiety'll be a thing of the past.
~*~
He's in the President's office at exactly 0800 - earlier than the President himself is. Felix used to find this annoying; now, he finds it endearing. Almost cute. Which is kind of horrifying, in and of itself.
Four folders on the President's desk. Mostly about internal security. There's a lot of that to worry about, these days.
His own office is adjacent to the President's. He can't count the number of times Gaius Baltar has wandered in, upset at one new political development or another. Ranting almost incoherently at the wall above and to the right of Felix's head.
Politics isn't Felix's strength. But he's organized, to a fault, and if there's anything that Gaius needs, it's organization.
~*~
"Good morning, Mr. President," says Felix, as Gaius storms in. Not particularly angry or upset, just dramatic, as usual. "The schedule is on your desk."
"Thank you, Felix," says Gaius, thudding back into his chair. "How's the energy bill?"
"Still in committee, sir," says Felix, apologetically.
"And the list of nominees?"
"Second folder, Mr. President."
"Ah. Excellent."
Felix tilts his head. "Is there anything else, sir?"
Gaius meets his eyes, for the first time that day. A little bit of a smile quirks his mouth. "No. Thank you, Felix."
Felix feels a flush, low on his neck. "The security briefing is in ten minutes," he says. "Thank you, Mr. President," with a nod, and he retreats to his office.
It's moments like that, he tells himself. Moments like that are why I do this job.
~*~
"Well," says the press secretary, "people are concerned about what they perceive as 'womanizing'."
Felix raises an eyebrow. "Womanizing?"
She shrugs, helplessly. "The press are having a wonderful time with - what was her name? - Natalie Sexton. She seems more than willing to tell what happened between her and the President, before the election."
"She's lying," Felix points out.
"People don't know that," says the woman. "President Baltar was brought in as a symbol of hope. They want someone who represents the ideal of building a new life, not what they perceive as indications of old-style corruption taking root."
"Can you control this?" asks Felix, with a sigh.
"Of course I'll do my best," says the press secretary.
~*~
Felix has lunch in his office, as usual. A rushed sandwich and a cup of coffee, and he's back to work.
His leg twinges; he massages it, absently, as he reviews a memo from the internal staff. It's an old wound, from when he was in the military - he was just lucky they didn't have to amputate.
~*~
"They're worried about you being a womanizer," says Felix, with a little bit of a laugh - nervous, he's nervous again.
Gaius looks up, slipping his glasses off the edge of his nose. "A - womanizing. Could this get any worse?"
"It's because of -"
"Natalie," interrupts Gaius. "Natalie, Natalie, Natalie, that's all I hear these days. And yes, I have womanized, is that what the press wants to hear?"
Felix's mouth twists. "It may be what the press wants to hear -"
"...but it's certainly not what you want me to tell them. Yes, I know," Gaius sighs. He sits back, on the sofa. "Come here, Felix."
Felix eases down next to him, his heart jumping.
"Come here." Gaius shifts closer, resting his head on Felix's shoulder.
"Sir," says Felix, warily, glancing towards the doors -
"No one's watching," reassures Gaius. "And if they are, they're probably sworn not to tell."
"Probably?" - but the physical contact is easing that knot of tension permanently between Felix's shoulders. Chief of staff isn't an easy job.
And then Gaius tilts his head, moves a little closer, and kisses Felix, draws him into it, tame and slow but passionate all the same. It's just like the first time, just like the second, just like all the other times -
Gaius pulls away. "Spend the night," he says.
"It's too dangerous," objects Felix.
"Nonsense," says Gaius. "You used to spend nights here working all the time."
"It's different now."
"Spend the night," persists Gaius. "Felix."
"No," but Felix's resolve is weakening.
Gaius' fingertips stroke the edge of his face. "I think I'm falling in love with you," he says.
~*~
Felix wakes up the next morning, in the President's bed, a few minutes before his alarm would have gone off, were he at home.
It's a good thing he keeps a spare suit in his office.
He stands, easing out from under Gaius' arm, and starts getting dressed. It's nice that he doesn't have to leave the building to go to work. It's not as nice to wonder who might be watching when he comes and goes - press, staff, anyone. It only takes one person to draw a very uncomfortable conclusion about the President.
~*~
Felix sets the folders on the President's desk, looking out to the view of the White House's lawn through the windows of the Oval Office. It looks like it'll be a beautiful day.