August 2007 - 50 - Open Topic
August 2007 - 50 - Open topic
Topic taken from EM RP Topic #20: The Flashback
"Get out of here," said Major Kinter gruffly.
Lieutenant Lee Adama cleared his throat and straightened up in his chair. The Major always cut an imposing figure, but here in the woman's office, she was even more intimidating. "Beg your pardon, sir?"
"Get out. Off base," Kinter clarified. "You haven't stepped foot off this airbase since... well, since your brother's funeral. You've volunteered for enough extra duty that you're starting to drain the battalion's budget in overtime pay, and frankly... you're starting to tense up everyone else."
Lee shook his head. "You know me, Major, I'm not really one for being very social anyway..." But especially since Zak had died, he didn't finish. Throwing himself into his duty, even as Fleet Reserve, seemed the best course of action. After all, that's what his father always did when things got tough.
"I know," answered Kinter. She brushed back a gray hair and her voice lowered and softened a touch. "Which is why I think you need to. Distract yourself with something else for a while. You have a forty-eight hour pass into Caprica City. That's an order."
Taking the offered paperwork, Lee stood, ramrod straight, and saluted. "Yes, sir."
**********
If it had been in any way intentional, it would not have happened to Lee Adama. The jeep he'd checked out of the motor pool had broken down halfway between the motel and the new Virgonese restaurant he'd been intending to try out that night. The sound of loud dance music, the dazzle of flashing and spinning colored lights and the heat of a hundred bodies assaulted him when he stepped into the club.
People were packed in just a couple of meters from the door and Lee could barely see anything. Picking the first knot of people who didn't look stoned, he raised his voice.
"Excuse me, ladies?" he asked the four young women, "can you point me toward the pay phone? My car's broken down..."
The one nearest him, a beautiful blonde with blue eyes, laughed. "Finally! Now that was a good pickup line!" Her friends laughed, but Lee shook his head, bewildered.
"No, I really need to use the phone!"
Three of the young women laughed even harder, but the one who'd spoken first smiled at him and gestured toward the door. "Come on," she said, "I'm getting a little claustrophobic. My name's Gianne, by the way."
"Lee," he answered, thankful to get out of the club.
**********
Lee knocked on the apartment door and immediately pulled on his uniform collar until it was level with the peephole. There were some shuffling noises from behind the door. "Who is--" said a female voice from inside, but instead of finishing the sentence, Lee was treated to a delighted shriek.
The door flew open and Gianne, still in her bathrobe, engulfed him in a hug.
"Oh my GODS, you got your promotion!" she shouted, and Lee was sure the entire apartment building heard.
"Yeah, Major Kinter let me know this afternoon," Lee answered, beaming. "You won't believe the paperwork that goes with it, though. I got back as soon as I could."
Gianne pulled him inside. "Tell me more," she said, shutting the door and locking it. Lee took a seat on her couch and shrugged modestly.
"Kinter said that I was one of the best squad leaders she'd ever seen, and that if I ever decided to join up full-time, I'd be CAG on a battlestar in no time."
From inside the kitchen, Gianne's head popped up from behind the cabinets for a moment. "CAG?"
"Commander of the Air Group," he answered. "Head pilot. But for now... I'm in the running to transfer to the test pilot program for the new Mark VII-A prototypes." Lee glanced down and gave his new rank insignia a shine. When he looked up, Gianne was standing across from him, a champagne glass in each hand and the bathrobe open to expose a few scraps of lace and silk that looked very expensive. He gave her a quizzical look.
"Major Kinter let me know, too," she said, her voice lowering a note. "Let's celebrate, Captain."
**********
One of the biggest advantages to having his own apartment on base, Lee always thought, was having one of the best views of the Colonial Day fireworks. He and Gianne were leaning against the railing, both smiling and gaping at the display. A trio of Vipers sped across the night sky, twisting and dodging through the colored lights. Normally, it would have been Lee's honor to be in that display, but he'd requested to be off that day.
Gianne sighed. "You're right. A lot better than sitting in the stands and freezing and craning our necks."
Lee nodded. "It's a great view," he agreed.
"Too bad I can't stick around. My pass expires tomorrow morning."
Lee cleared his throat. "Maybe you don't have to."
When Gianne turned to him, puzzled, Lee pulled a small box out of his jacket pocket and lowered himself to one knee.
"Gianne, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I don't know where I'd be if I hadn't run into you. Marry me."
She didn't ever officially answer him, but the kiss she planted on Lee's lips after pulling him back to his feet was as explosive as the fireworks. He was pretty confident about calling it a "yes".
**********
"You're... you're what?"
Lee felt the whole planet lurch and start to spin under his feet. He was almost glad that Gianne had asked to meet him here, where there were railings for him to grab if he needed it. His fiancée's eyes were brimming with tears.
"Pregnant, Lee," she repeated. "I'm pregnant." A note of anger crept into Gianne's voice. "And yes, it's yours, if you were wondering. It could only be--"
He shook his head firmly. "I wasn't going to say--"
A baby. His baby. His son or daughter. The world kept spinning, and all Lee could think of were his own parents. Commander William Adama, now of the battlestar Galactica but never of his own home with his own family. And Carolanne Adama, with her bitter resentment and drunken temper and fleeting kindness. They were the only parents he had, the only examples.
A mother who struck with words and looks.
A father who abandoned his family, then got his younger son killed.
"I... I can't..." he muttered. Lee took a step back. Gianne raised her own hands to grab onto him, to stop him and force him to stay and live up to his new responsibilities, but Lee Adama was a pilot. He knew how to evade.
Lee was walking away and nearly out of earshot by the time he heard her start to sob.
**********
Four straight nights, all the way through from the end of chow time to when he absolutely had to stop and shower and shave for First Watch. For four nights, Lee had pored over the lists of the survivors that had been crammed into the ships of the fleet, the ships that carried everything that was left of humanity. Some of the lists were printed out, and some only hand-written, but all were disorganized and shuffled.
But he went over each page twice, sometimes three times, making sure.
At 0438 on the fourth night, he reached the last of the lists. Fifty thousand, two hundred ninety-eight survivors.
And Gianne was not one of them.
Lee put the lists away, carefully filing them exactly the way he'd found them, stepped into the head, heaved, cleaned up and went back to his rack. If anyone else in the pilots' locker heard him crying that night, none of them said a word.
OOC Note: This ficlet is not based in canon, except for the interpretation of the scene between Gianne and Lee. The rest is a creation of the writer for backstory.
(1,291)
Muse: Maj. Lee "Apollo" Adama
Fandom: "Battlestar Galactica" (new)
Please reply here.
Topic taken from EM RP Topic #20: The Flashback
"Get out of here," said Major Kinter gruffly.
Lieutenant Lee Adama cleared his throat and straightened up in his chair. The Major always cut an imposing figure, but here in the woman's office, she was even more intimidating. "Beg your pardon, sir?"
"Get out. Off base," Kinter clarified. "You haven't stepped foot off this airbase since... well, since your brother's funeral. You've volunteered for enough extra duty that you're starting to drain the battalion's budget in overtime pay, and frankly... you're starting to tense up everyone else."
Lee shook his head. "You know me, Major, I'm not really one for being very social anyway..." But especially since Zak had died, he didn't finish. Throwing himself into his duty, even as Fleet Reserve, seemed the best course of action. After all, that's what his father always did when things got tough.
"I know," answered Kinter. She brushed back a gray hair and her voice lowered and softened a touch. "Which is why I think you need to. Distract yourself with something else for a while. You have a forty-eight hour pass into Caprica City. That's an order."
Taking the offered paperwork, Lee stood, ramrod straight, and saluted. "Yes, sir."
**********
If it had been in any way intentional, it would not have happened to Lee Adama. The jeep he'd checked out of the motor pool had broken down halfway between the motel and the new Virgonese restaurant he'd been intending to try out that night. The sound of loud dance music, the dazzle of flashing and spinning colored lights and the heat of a hundred bodies assaulted him when he stepped into the club.
People were packed in just a couple of meters from the door and Lee could barely see anything. Picking the first knot of people who didn't look stoned, he raised his voice.
"Excuse me, ladies?" he asked the four young women, "can you point me toward the pay phone? My car's broken down..."
The one nearest him, a beautiful blonde with blue eyes, laughed. "Finally! Now that was a good pickup line!" Her friends laughed, but Lee shook his head, bewildered.
"No, I really need to use the phone!"
Three of the young women laughed even harder, but the one who'd spoken first smiled at him and gestured toward the door. "Come on," she said, "I'm getting a little claustrophobic. My name's Gianne, by the way."
"Lee," he answered, thankful to get out of the club.
**********
Lee knocked on the apartment door and immediately pulled on his uniform collar until it was level with the peephole. There were some shuffling noises from behind the door. "Who is--" said a female voice from inside, but instead of finishing the sentence, Lee was treated to a delighted shriek.
The door flew open and Gianne, still in her bathrobe, engulfed him in a hug.
"Oh my GODS, you got your promotion!" she shouted, and Lee was sure the entire apartment building heard.
"Yeah, Major Kinter let me know this afternoon," Lee answered, beaming. "You won't believe the paperwork that goes with it, though. I got back as soon as I could."
Gianne pulled him inside. "Tell me more," she said, shutting the door and locking it. Lee took a seat on her couch and shrugged modestly.
"Kinter said that I was one of the best squad leaders she'd ever seen, and that if I ever decided to join up full-time, I'd be CAG on a battlestar in no time."
From inside the kitchen, Gianne's head popped up from behind the cabinets for a moment. "CAG?"
"Commander of the Air Group," he answered. "Head pilot. But for now... I'm in the running to transfer to the test pilot program for the new Mark VII-A prototypes." Lee glanced down and gave his new rank insignia a shine. When he looked up, Gianne was standing across from him, a champagne glass in each hand and the bathrobe open to expose a few scraps of lace and silk that looked very expensive. He gave her a quizzical look.
"Major Kinter let me know, too," she said, her voice lowering a note. "Let's celebrate, Captain."
**********
One of the biggest advantages to having his own apartment on base, Lee always thought, was having one of the best views of the Colonial Day fireworks. He and Gianne were leaning against the railing, both smiling and gaping at the display. A trio of Vipers sped across the night sky, twisting and dodging through the colored lights. Normally, it would have been Lee's honor to be in that display, but he'd requested to be off that day.
Gianne sighed. "You're right. A lot better than sitting in the stands and freezing and craning our necks."
Lee nodded. "It's a great view," he agreed.
"Too bad I can't stick around. My pass expires tomorrow morning."
Lee cleared his throat. "Maybe you don't have to."
When Gianne turned to him, puzzled, Lee pulled a small box out of his jacket pocket and lowered himself to one knee.
"Gianne, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I don't know where I'd be if I hadn't run into you. Marry me."
She didn't ever officially answer him, but the kiss she planted on Lee's lips after pulling him back to his feet was as explosive as the fireworks. He was pretty confident about calling it a "yes".
**********
"You're... you're what?"
Lee felt the whole planet lurch and start to spin under his feet. He was almost glad that Gianne had asked to meet him here, where there were railings for him to grab if he needed it. His fiancée's eyes were brimming with tears.
"Pregnant, Lee," she repeated. "I'm pregnant." A note of anger crept into Gianne's voice. "And yes, it's yours, if you were wondering. It could only be--"
He shook his head firmly. "I wasn't going to say--"
A baby. His baby. His son or daughter. The world kept spinning, and all Lee could think of were his own parents. Commander William Adama, now of the battlestar Galactica but never of his own home with his own family. And Carolanne Adama, with her bitter resentment and drunken temper and fleeting kindness. They were the only parents he had, the only examples.
A mother who struck with words and looks.
A father who abandoned his family, then got his younger son killed.
"I... I can't..." he muttered. Lee took a step back. Gianne raised her own hands to grab onto him, to stop him and force him to stay and live up to his new responsibilities, but Lee Adama was a pilot. He knew how to evade.
Lee was walking away and nearly out of earshot by the time he heard her start to sob.
**********
Four straight nights, all the way through from the end of chow time to when he absolutely had to stop and shower and shave for First Watch. For four nights, Lee had pored over the lists of the survivors that had been crammed into the ships of the fleet, the ships that carried everything that was left of humanity. Some of the lists were printed out, and some only hand-written, but all were disorganized and shuffled.
But he went over each page twice, sometimes three times, making sure.
At 0438 on the fourth night, he reached the last of the lists. Fifty thousand, two hundred ninety-eight survivors.
And Gianne was not one of them.
Lee put the lists away, carefully filing them exactly the way he'd found them, stepped into the head, heaved, cleaned up and went back to his rack. If anyone else in the pilots' locker heard him crying that night, none of them said a word.
OOC Note: This ficlet is not based in canon, except for the interpretation of the scene between Gianne and Lee. The rest is a creation of the writer for backstory.
(1,291)
Muse: Maj. Lee "Apollo" Adama
Fandom: "Battlestar Galactica" (new)
Please reply here.