I have been very silly today.
This is very, very silly fic. I'm just warning you ahead of time. And it stops midscene, because I don't have a plot for it, I was just having fun with voices. Write your own ending, it'll be a fun game!
BSG/Firefly crossover.
"Permission to speak freely, sir." Kara Thrace had her hands clasped behind her back and her chin tucked down to her chest in the severely cute way that, when combined with the wicked amusement in her eyes, meant that very soon, Lee Adama would be feeling uncomfortable and at a helpless loss for words.
He blinked at her over the edge of his locker door. "I can't believe you actually bother to ask that. Whatever the answer is, it never stops you from saying whatever the hell you want."
She would not be redirected. "Well, then, permission to bring up a rather personal matter in a locker room full of our peers."
His stomach sank down toward the floor. Personal matters, she was calling him "sir," and she was grinning. He was beyond doomed. "Denied."
"Okay, then. Everybody out!" she bellowed, and inside of a minute, the rest of the room was deserted. He glared at the abandoned towels, razors, and articles of clothing strewn around them. He was the CAG, and they weren't that afraid of him.
"Now we can really speak freely," she said brightly, flopping down on a bench. "You need to get laid, Captain. Badly. As soon as possible."
Yes, there was the discomfort, right on schedule. He realized that his mouth had fallen open, and closed it with an effort. He could tell her that it was none of her business, but it wouldn't do a damn bit of good. "Easier said than done, Lieutenant."
"Frak that." She lay all the way back on the bench, wiggling like a puppy until she found a comfortable angle to squint up at him. "I don't believe in feeding your ego, Lee, but you're not exactly the ugly stepchild on this ship."
"Thanks," he said sourly, slamming his locker. "I've got a word for you, Kara-- fraternization. Look it up. Should be in the regs, right under the heading 'do not do this.'"
"Believe it or not, Lee, there are women around who aren't military." She stretched her arms up at the ceiling and turned her head back and forth until her neck cracked. "The President, for one. She'd totally frak you if you asked her."
"Kara." That was supposed to sound stern and disapproving, but somewhere between his mind and his mouth it picked up an unflattering squeak of terror. She smirked.
"There's also an entire fleet of civilians out there, Lee. About half of them are female. And statistically, ten percent of the other half would be happy to help you out, if you're feeling flexible."
"And how exactly would that work, Kara?" he asked, deciding to take the high road and ignore half of the words coming out of her mouth. "It's not like back in training, when we could just go down to the bar off-base and pick up some civvies."
"Why not?" She sat up and stared at him. "Oh, my Gods, Lee, are you really that clueless? People are people. Of course there are bars."
Why did conversations with Kara tend to leave him feeling like he'd been run over by a Raptor? "How does that work?"
She rolled her eyes and jumped up off the bench. "There's a shuttle leaving Bay Two in an hour. Make sure you're on it. And have Hot Dog help you with your pick-up lines before you go. If you don't come back tonight thoroughly sexed-up, Captain, I'll proposition Roslin for you. And you know I'll do it, too."
She absolutely would. He opened his locker again and reached for the cleanest uniform he had left. At least he didn't have to worry about what to wear.
***
The bar was called Serenity, and before the Cylon attack it had been a transport ship. The shuttle pilot-- a grim-faced woman who could probably break Lee in half without mussing her hair-- said that the ship's captain and crew were "possessed of an entrepreneurial spirit" and had been quick to convert the ship to serve the liquor-based needs of the fleet.
"When you meet our bouncer, you'll understand," she said, distaste evident in her voice. "It was mostly his idea."
The bouncer in question was very tall and apparently spent as much time under a bench press as Karl Agathon. He was wearing a breathtakingly ugly orange t-shirt and shoved a clipboard under Lee's nose by way of greeting.
"Name and ship of origin," he said, rolling a cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. "Gotta keep records, y'know. Just in case you're a Cylon."
There wasn't really anything ot say to that, so Lee just scrawled his name and "Galactica" and handed the sheet back. The man's eyes widened when he saw it.
"Well, hell, why didn't you say something? Captain Adama hisownself! Viper pilots drink free here at Serenity."
"He's wearing a uniform, Jayne, you halfwit, why should he have to say anything?" the shuttle pilot said acidly, edging around Lee and starting up a ladder to the catwalk that ringed the top of the main bar. Glancing around, Lee decided that this probably used to be the ship's cargo bay.
"Can't judge a man by his clothes, Zoe," the bouncer-- Jayne?-- said, taking the cigar out of his mouth and spitting into an empty cup kept on a ledge for that very purpose. "If you could, that husband of yours'd be in a loony bin. And hey, aren't you supposed to relieve me here so I can take a break?"
"I'm going to go visit that husband of mine for a few minutes first," she said, not pausing in her trip up the ladder. "The girls from Geminon will just have to wait a few more minutes for your charming conversation."
"Huh." Jayne leaned back against the wall and chewed his cigar for a minute before glancing back at Lee. "Well, go on in, buddy. The Geminon girls at table nine are mine, but there's plenty of others inside."
He probably should be offended that people kept looking at him and saying that he needed to get laid, but a drink was sounding better by the minute, so he just nodded and stepped into the bar.
The tables and chairs had pretty clearly been put together from scraps of old equipment, and the music was being piped in over a sound system that wasn't designed for it, but the place had a certain gritty, homey atmosphere that worked. And anyway, he forgot all about it when he saw the woman sitting at the bar.
She was wearing a peach-colored dress that held on to every curve as if it had been sewn there. Her hair was long and thick, glossy black curls tumbling over her shoulders, and when she smiled at something, he thought his heart would stop.
"Another fish in the net," came a voice at his elbow, and he whirled to find a girl standing there, studying him with wide, cool eyes that didn't miss a thing. She cut him to pieces where he stood with those eyes. "You can't afford her."
"Excuse me?" She was carrying a pitcher of something foamy in one hand; it sloshed over the edge and ran down her leg to her half-laced combat boots. A tray was tucked under her arm. He realized she must be the waitress, and he made a solemn promise to the gods that he would never, ever forget to tip.
"A copper for a kiss, but a silver to talk. Unless you can make interesting conversation." She stepped closer, staring into his eyes, and he became very certain that he was about to wind up wearing the contents of that pitcher. "Are you interesting?"
"I don't know." He was about to turn and run when a man with another pitcher caught the girl's arm.
"River, table three is thirsty," the waiter prompted, and the girl blinked twice and turned away. Lee took a deep breath and started toward the bar again. He was going to kill Kara for sending him here. He was going to kill her very, very slowly.
The woman at the bar, and the one behind it who must be the bartender, were both grinning at him. "Well," said the one in the dress, tossing her hair back, "Captain Apollo himself. It's an honor, isn't it, Kaylee?"
"An honor and a pleasure," Kaylee giggled, looking Lee up and down. "He's even prettier than the pictures on the news show."
He made a mental note to find out how the reporters even had any pictures of him, and to make sure that whoever was responsible spent the next few weeks cleaning the flight decks with a toothbrush. "Well, everyone around here seems to know me, but I haven't been introduced."
"Inara Serra," she said, holding out her hand. "And this is Kaylee Frye. Welcome to Serenity, the most upscale and charming dive in the fleet."
"Upscale dive?" Kaylee rolled her eyes. "'Nara, I know that's supposed to be funny, but it's not very nice to Serenity, now is it? Why do you have to do that?"
"Because it gets Mal going." Inara grinned and picked up her teacup. "He starts using those obscure Sagittaron curses that don't make sense. It's cute."
Lee waited patiently for someone to translate any of that, or at least to offer him a drink.
"Mal's the captain," Kaylee said with an apologetic smile, pushing a mug of the foamy stuff across the bar. "He was in the Sagittaron separatist movement, him and Zoe. I know you work for President Roslin, Captain Adama, and that's fine with me-- I just love her-- but we try not to talk about politics in here, okay?"
"Especially when Mal's around." Inara rolled her eyes. "He has this whole routine about how he's going to vote for Zarek..." She set the cup aside and slid off of her stool. "Time to get to work, I suppose."
"What do you do?" Lee asked, taking a healthy gulp of his drink. He had a feeling he needed to get very drunk very quickly to fit in around here.
"I'm the entertainment," Inara said with a smile. She waved her hand at the far end of the bay, where a small stage had been set up with a microphone and some kind of jury-rigged drum set/xylophone combination. A white-haired man was sitting behind the musical contraption, striking various keys with small hammers and adjusting bolts as needed. "My accompanist is ready, it seems."
"Are you two going to duet tonight?" Kaylee asked eagerly, leaning over the bar.
"I don't think so. Book had a sore throat this morning." Inara ran her fingers through her hair again and glanced at Lee. "It was lovely meeting you, Captain. I do hope you'll stay for the whole show."
"I'm sure I will," he said, easing onto a stool. "Since I have no idea how I'm getting back to my ship."
"Oh, Wash or Zoe will run you back whenever," Kaylee said. Inara shook her head.
"Not Wash, dear. Not to Galactica, remember?"
"Why not?" Lee asked, taking another sip.
"Your deck crew asked us not to let him come back unless he's joining up as a pilot," Inara explained, straightening her skirts and waving at Book. "They can't let him in a cockpit otherwise, and they feel so terrible telling him no...yes, I'm coming..." She hurried off across the room, tossing another bright smile at Lee that made his hand tighten convulsively on his glass.
"Oh, no," Kaylee said softly, studying his face with a sad little smile. "Inara got another one. And here I was hoping I might have a chance with you."
Before he had to come up with a response, Jayne threw himself down on the next stool with an expansive sigh. "Finally! I thought Zoe was going to spend the whole damn night up on the bridge. Hope they weren't doing anything dirty up there, that's just plain unprofessional during business hours...Give me a double, Kaylee-girl. Hey, Captain, how's that drink treating you? Another round for the Captain, Kaylee, and spike it up with something. We're gonna get him to crack a smile if it kills us all." He raised the glass Kaylee handed him, not at all bothered by the failure of everyone in the vicinity to return the toast. "Blown fuses to the Cylons and full speed to Earth." He drained half the glass in a single swallow and turned back to Lee. "So, Captain, you find yourself a girl yet?"
"Not exactly..." He knew that Kaylee wasn't going to help him out, so he just looked at the floor instead.
"Why the hell not? You look like you're in need, if you don't mind me saying so. Starbuck said you were living like a damn monk over on Galactica." He shook his head mournfully. "Now that just ain't right."
"Let me introduce you to a new word: frat-er-niz-a-tion. Say it with me now. It's against the rules." He scowled over the rim of his mug, and then scowled harder as Kaylee and Jayne both started to laugh.
"Bullshit," Jayne said cheerfully. "Can't worry about crap like that when the world's ended. But okay, Captain Tightass, as you say. No military girls around here tonight, far as I can tell." He glanced around the room. "Which reminds me-- when's Starbuck gonna get a night off and come back over here? I've got to beat her seven or eight times at Triad and win my pride back."
"That will never happen," Kaylee said, passing another tray of drinks over the bar to the nervous-looking waiter. "Simon, what is River doing to table four?"
"She's giving a campaign speech for Tom Zarek," Simon said in a tone of infinite weariness. "Mal promised her candy for it. I'm going to hurt that man one of these days."
"Go easy on him, Simon, we need him to help repopulate the human race. Isn't that right, Captain Apollo? Gotta do all the baby-making we can these days."
"Zoe's just a little too thrilled about that, if you ask me," Jayne said, draining the rest of his glass and turning around to face the room. "What do you think of the music, Captain?"
"It's...interesting," Lee said, watching Inara sway along with the beat as she sang. The percussion contraption produced more of a melody than he would've expected.
"New style that Book and Inara invented. Guaranteed never to be duplicated, since we built the thing when we were drunk and nobody remembers how it fits together."
BSG/Firefly crossover.
"Permission to speak freely, sir." Kara Thrace had her hands clasped behind her back and her chin tucked down to her chest in the severely cute way that, when combined with the wicked amusement in her eyes, meant that very soon, Lee Adama would be feeling uncomfortable and at a helpless loss for words.
He blinked at her over the edge of his locker door. "I can't believe you actually bother to ask that. Whatever the answer is, it never stops you from saying whatever the hell you want."
She would not be redirected. "Well, then, permission to bring up a rather personal matter in a locker room full of our peers."
His stomach sank down toward the floor. Personal matters, she was calling him "sir," and she was grinning. He was beyond doomed. "Denied."
"Okay, then. Everybody out!" she bellowed, and inside of a minute, the rest of the room was deserted. He glared at the abandoned towels, razors, and articles of clothing strewn around them. He was the CAG, and they weren't that afraid of him.
"Now we can really speak freely," she said brightly, flopping down on a bench. "You need to get laid, Captain. Badly. As soon as possible."
Yes, there was the discomfort, right on schedule. He realized that his mouth had fallen open, and closed it with an effort. He could tell her that it was none of her business, but it wouldn't do a damn bit of good. "Easier said than done, Lieutenant."
"Frak that." She lay all the way back on the bench, wiggling like a puppy until she found a comfortable angle to squint up at him. "I don't believe in feeding your ego, Lee, but you're not exactly the ugly stepchild on this ship."
"Thanks," he said sourly, slamming his locker. "I've got a word for you, Kara-- fraternization. Look it up. Should be in the regs, right under the heading 'do not do this.'"
"Believe it or not, Lee, there are women around who aren't military." She stretched her arms up at the ceiling and turned her head back and forth until her neck cracked. "The President, for one. She'd totally frak you if you asked her."
"Kara." That was supposed to sound stern and disapproving, but somewhere between his mind and his mouth it picked up an unflattering squeak of terror. She smirked.
"There's also an entire fleet of civilians out there, Lee. About half of them are female. And statistically, ten percent of the other half would be happy to help you out, if you're feeling flexible."
"And how exactly would that work, Kara?" he asked, deciding to take the high road and ignore half of the words coming out of her mouth. "It's not like back in training, when we could just go down to the bar off-base and pick up some civvies."
"Why not?" She sat up and stared at him. "Oh, my Gods, Lee, are you really that clueless? People are people. Of course there are bars."
Why did conversations with Kara tend to leave him feeling like he'd been run over by a Raptor? "How does that work?"
She rolled her eyes and jumped up off the bench. "There's a shuttle leaving Bay Two in an hour. Make sure you're on it. And have Hot Dog help you with your pick-up lines before you go. If you don't come back tonight thoroughly sexed-up, Captain, I'll proposition Roslin for you. And you know I'll do it, too."
She absolutely would. He opened his locker again and reached for the cleanest uniform he had left. At least he didn't have to worry about what to wear.
***
The bar was called Serenity, and before the Cylon attack it had been a transport ship. The shuttle pilot-- a grim-faced woman who could probably break Lee in half without mussing her hair-- said that the ship's captain and crew were "possessed of an entrepreneurial spirit" and had been quick to convert the ship to serve the liquor-based needs of the fleet.
"When you meet our bouncer, you'll understand," she said, distaste evident in her voice. "It was mostly his idea."
The bouncer in question was very tall and apparently spent as much time under a bench press as Karl Agathon. He was wearing a breathtakingly ugly orange t-shirt and shoved a clipboard under Lee's nose by way of greeting.
"Name and ship of origin," he said, rolling a cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. "Gotta keep records, y'know. Just in case you're a Cylon."
There wasn't really anything ot say to that, so Lee just scrawled his name and "Galactica" and handed the sheet back. The man's eyes widened when he saw it.
"Well, hell, why didn't you say something? Captain Adama hisownself! Viper pilots drink free here at Serenity."
"He's wearing a uniform, Jayne, you halfwit, why should he have to say anything?" the shuttle pilot said acidly, edging around Lee and starting up a ladder to the catwalk that ringed the top of the main bar. Glancing around, Lee decided that this probably used to be the ship's cargo bay.
"Can't judge a man by his clothes, Zoe," the bouncer-- Jayne?-- said, taking the cigar out of his mouth and spitting into an empty cup kept on a ledge for that very purpose. "If you could, that husband of yours'd be in a loony bin. And hey, aren't you supposed to relieve me here so I can take a break?"
"I'm going to go visit that husband of mine for a few minutes first," she said, not pausing in her trip up the ladder. "The girls from Geminon will just have to wait a few more minutes for your charming conversation."
"Huh." Jayne leaned back against the wall and chewed his cigar for a minute before glancing back at Lee. "Well, go on in, buddy. The Geminon girls at table nine are mine, but there's plenty of others inside."
He probably should be offended that people kept looking at him and saying that he needed to get laid, but a drink was sounding better by the minute, so he just nodded and stepped into the bar.
The tables and chairs had pretty clearly been put together from scraps of old equipment, and the music was being piped in over a sound system that wasn't designed for it, but the place had a certain gritty, homey atmosphere that worked. And anyway, he forgot all about it when he saw the woman sitting at the bar.
She was wearing a peach-colored dress that held on to every curve as if it had been sewn there. Her hair was long and thick, glossy black curls tumbling over her shoulders, and when she smiled at something, he thought his heart would stop.
"Another fish in the net," came a voice at his elbow, and he whirled to find a girl standing there, studying him with wide, cool eyes that didn't miss a thing. She cut him to pieces where he stood with those eyes. "You can't afford her."
"Excuse me?" She was carrying a pitcher of something foamy in one hand; it sloshed over the edge and ran down her leg to her half-laced combat boots. A tray was tucked under her arm. He realized she must be the waitress, and he made a solemn promise to the gods that he would never, ever forget to tip.
"A copper for a kiss, but a silver to talk. Unless you can make interesting conversation." She stepped closer, staring into his eyes, and he became very certain that he was about to wind up wearing the contents of that pitcher. "Are you interesting?"
"I don't know." He was about to turn and run when a man with another pitcher caught the girl's arm.
"River, table three is thirsty," the waiter prompted, and the girl blinked twice and turned away. Lee took a deep breath and started toward the bar again. He was going to kill Kara for sending him here. He was going to kill her very, very slowly.
The woman at the bar, and the one behind it who must be the bartender, were both grinning at him. "Well," said the one in the dress, tossing her hair back, "Captain Apollo himself. It's an honor, isn't it, Kaylee?"
"An honor and a pleasure," Kaylee giggled, looking Lee up and down. "He's even prettier than the pictures on the news show."
He made a mental note to find out how the reporters even had any pictures of him, and to make sure that whoever was responsible spent the next few weeks cleaning the flight decks with a toothbrush. "Well, everyone around here seems to know me, but I haven't been introduced."
"Inara Serra," she said, holding out her hand. "And this is Kaylee Frye. Welcome to Serenity, the most upscale and charming dive in the fleet."
"Upscale dive?" Kaylee rolled her eyes. "'Nara, I know that's supposed to be funny, but it's not very nice to Serenity, now is it? Why do you have to do that?"
"Because it gets Mal going." Inara grinned and picked up her teacup. "He starts using those obscure Sagittaron curses that don't make sense. It's cute."
Lee waited patiently for someone to translate any of that, or at least to offer him a drink.
"Mal's the captain," Kaylee said with an apologetic smile, pushing a mug of the foamy stuff across the bar. "He was in the Sagittaron separatist movement, him and Zoe. I know you work for President Roslin, Captain Adama, and that's fine with me-- I just love her-- but we try not to talk about politics in here, okay?"
"Especially when Mal's around." Inara rolled her eyes. "He has this whole routine about how he's going to vote for Zarek..." She set the cup aside and slid off of her stool. "Time to get to work, I suppose."
"What do you do?" Lee asked, taking a healthy gulp of his drink. He had a feeling he needed to get very drunk very quickly to fit in around here.
"I'm the entertainment," Inara said with a smile. She waved her hand at the far end of the bay, where a small stage had been set up with a microphone and some kind of jury-rigged drum set/xylophone combination. A white-haired man was sitting behind the musical contraption, striking various keys with small hammers and adjusting bolts as needed. "My accompanist is ready, it seems."
"Are you two going to duet tonight?" Kaylee asked eagerly, leaning over the bar.
"I don't think so. Book had a sore throat this morning." Inara ran her fingers through her hair again and glanced at Lee. "It was lovely meeting you, Captain. I do hope you'll stay for the whole show."
"I'm sure I will," he said, easing onto a stool. "Since I have no idea how I'm getting back to my ship."
"Oh, Wash or Zoe will run you back whenever," Kaylee said. Inara shook her head.
"Not Wash, dear. Not to Galactica, remember?"
"Why not?" Lee asked, taking another sip.
"Your deck crew asked us not to let him come back unless he's joining up as a pilot," Inara explained, straightening her skirts and waving at Book. "They can't let him in a cockpit otherwise, and they feel so terrible telling him no...yes, I'm coming..." She hurried off across the room, tossing another bright smile at Lee that made his hand tighten convulsively on his glass.
"Oh, no," Kaylee said softly, studying his face with a sad little smile. "Inara got another one. And here I was hoping I might have a chance with you."
Before he had to come up with a response, Jayne threw himself down on the next stool with an expansive sigh. "Finally! I thought Zoe was going to spend the whole damn night up on the bridge. Hope they weren't doing anything dirty up there, that's just plain unprofessional during business hours...Give me a double, Kaylee-girl. Hey, Captain, how's that drink treating you? Another round for the Captain, Kaylee, and spike it up with something. We're gonna get him to crack a smile if it kills us all." He raised the glass Kaylee handed him, not at all bothered by the failure of everyone in the vicinity to return the toast. "Blown fuses to the Cylons and full speed to Earth." He drained half the glass in a single swallow and turned back to Lee. "So, Captain, you find yourself a girl yet?"
"Not exactly..." He knew that Kaylee wasn't going to help him out, so he just looked at the floor instead.
"Why the hell not? You look like you're in need, if you don't mind me saying so. Starbuck said you were living like a damn monk over on Galactica." He shook his head mournfully. "Now that just ain't right."
"Let me introduce you to a new word: frat-er-niz-a-tion. Say it with me now. It's against the rules." He scowled over the rim of his mug, and then scowled harder as Kaylee and Jayne both started to laugh.
"Bullshit," Jayne said cheerfully. "Can't worry about crap like that when the world's ended. But okay, Captain Tightass, as you say. No military girls around here tonight, far as I can tell." He glanced around the room. "Which reminds me-- when's Starbuck gonna get a night off and come back over here? I've got to beat her seven or eight times at Triad and win my pride back."
"That will never happen," Kaylee said, passing another tray of drinks over the bar to the nervous-looking waiter. "Simon, what is River doing to table four?"
"She's giving a campaign speech for Tom Zarek," Simon said in a tone of infinite weariness. "Mal promised her candy for it. I'm going to hurt that man one of these days."
"Go easy on him, Simon, we need him to help repopulate the human race. Isn't that right, Captain Apollo? Gotta do all the baby-making we can these days."
"Zoe's just a little too thrilled about that, if you ask me," Jayne said, draining the rest of his glass and turning around to face the room. "What do you think of the music, Captain?"
"It's...interesting," Lee said, watching Inara sway along with the beat as she sang. The percussion contraption produced more of a melody than he would've expected.
"New style that Book and Inara invented. Guaranteed never to be duplicated, since we built the thing when we were drunk and nobody remembers how it fits together."