(no subject)
Ficlets! Two ficlets for grey_sw and kappamaki33, who both correctly guessed my Yuletide fic. I have to admit, I'm not crazy about either of these, but I hope you guys enjoy them. The first is an identity crisis, and the second is almost pointless banter and fluff.
Title: But That Was When I Ruled the World
Summary: For grey_sw, who wanted Vinnie the One's life on Galatica at the end of The Space Between Us.
The Colony wasn't right.
The One had felt that from the beginning, but had kept his silence because his feelings were not logical. Logic dictated that the Colony was right, with resources, Centurions, and laboratory equipment, damaged as it may be, that could help rebuild resurrection. And yet, it wasn't right, and he couldn't put the words to it.
But right or wrong didn't matter, not right now. He ran through the corridors of the Colony, heading towards the Galactica, a gun in his hand. There were a few other Fours and Fives doing the same thing, but none of his brothers. They wanted nothing to do with the humans.
Well, he wanted nothing to do with the humans, either, but he wanted to live. And apparently, the two were interconnected.
Well, frak.
***
The One felt it when the Colony exploded; saw it through severed channels in his mind. It hurt, but he clenched his jaw and clung to the wall of Galactica. All of his brothers, dying in one intense second of agony, never to return.
But he was alive, and right now, that was all that mattered. That was all that could matter, any more, the lives each of them could make for themselves.
The Galactica had jumped, he could feel that. But he wasn't connected to anything. He didn't know where they were, what they were doing, what the ship was feeling. He felt oddly afloat, and he clung more fiercely to the wall. His knees threatened to give out and he was quite sure he was going to be sick. He closed his eyes and focused on his makeup, systematically shutting off responses until his equilibrium was restored. He slowly slid down the wall, sitting with his back against it and studying the other Cylons who had come on board.
A Four was retching. Weak. He looked away contemptuously. Another Four was looking anxious, staring at the Eight who was sitting beside a human. The Eight's eyes were closed and she was still breathing heavily, her hands resting over her slightly swollen abdomen. The human, whom he remembered well from New Caprica, was swallowing hard, his hands caressing the floor. A Five was helping one of his brothers, and a Four was bent over the traitor Eight, who appeared to be dead. And the One couldn't even grieve her loss.
A child was crying. The One turned his head, trying to focus his eyes. A little girl, snuffling wailing against Gaius Baltar. Well, if he had to be that close to Baltar, he'd be wailing, too. But then he realized it was Hera, and he stared at her blankly.
Was he supposed to feel something as he looked at her? Wasn't she the subject of prophecy? The shape of things to come? All he saw was a runny nose and a shrieking voice, and messy curls that would need untangling. He looked away.
"Where should we go?" one of the Fours asked.
Gaeta sighed, and scrubbed his face with his hands. "The infirmary," he said finally. "It's easier to get to than the CIC, and the Admiral will end up there."
"Besides," Baltar said indignantly, "this child needs a doctor."
"Is she hurt?" the One asked.
Baltar stared at him like he was the insane one. "She needs a doctor," he repeated.
And this was the brightest mind that the humans had to offer. The One rolled his eyes. Although, to his sour amusement, he saw Gaeta doing the same.
"Which way is the infirmary?" a Five asked, looking around him with an expression of distaste. The One couldn't blame him. The Galactica was inelegant, clunky and rusty. He thought of the Colony, or even better, a baseship, and the halls of Galactica sprang into smooth, ordered panels. He relaxed a little.
The layout was not at all complicated- he committed it to memory easily. And when they entered the infirmary, he stepped back against the wall, watching quietly.
There was a Four already in the room. He had a mask on, and was bowed intently over a human. The One searched the data as best he could, and realized that this was the Four that had been selected to work specifically with the prisoners. He made a note to ask some serious questions of this one later. The Admiral and Ellen Tigh approached, but they veered to the Eight and Gaeta.
A woman came over and eyed the Cylons all up. "All right," she said curtly, her face an attempt at blankness, but with condensation marked clearly across her features. "If you need medical help, over there. If you don’t, sit over there and out of the way." She pointed to a few beds and chairs arranged in a haphazard manner.
"If you need more help," a Four began, but the woman was moving away already.
The One shrugged and found a seat. Somehow, he suspected that they were in for a long wait.
***
The Cylons were assigned a room of their own. "Racks," the ensign who showed them where they were staying insisted. "The Admiral thinks that you'll be more comfortable here to start than on the basestar. It's not for long, anyway."
"Thank you," the Four who offered to help in the infirmary said. The ensign nodded.
"Racks," a Five said, looking around with a wrinkled nose. "It almost sounds vulgar."
"It's a derivation from barracks," another Five corrected him. He shrugged off his dirty, torn blazer and opened a locker. "Not quite what we're used to," he said, pulling out a threadbare pare of BDUs, "but they'll do."
"I'd rather take my chances with the rebels," the first Five muttered, looking at the drab green cloth.
"I'm sure we all would have rather gotten onto the other basestars," the One said, thinking of the Ones, Fours, and Fives that had evaded the nuclear detonation that had destroyed the Colony. He wondered how many of them were left, and if he'd ever see them again in his lifetime. He opened a locker himself and looked at the contents. The BDUs, tanks, a towel, a bag, a folded blanket, socks, boots… none of which he was convinced would fit.
Later, he found that they did.
***
The supposed Admiral Hoshi was a somewhat tall man with a serious face that looked far too young for his position. He stood in front of the Cylons easily, a Two at his side like a loyal pit bull, wearing a Colonial uniform. An unexpected rage rose in the One at that particular sight, and he had to look away.
"I'm glad you made the decision to join us," Admiral Hoshi was saying. "As I'm sure you have heard, the Galactica and the Fleet are now in orbit around a habitable planet. As the Fleet is effectively out of resources and a truce has been reached-"
"A truce?" a Five said. "I don't remember a truce."
Admiral Hoshi's gaze was surprisingly even. "You wouldn't," he said. "The truce was between the Twos, Sixes, and Eights and the humans. You could view yourselves as prisoners, or as refugees, or as Cylon citizens seeking asylum. Personally, I prefer the last one." The Five looked down, and Hoshi's gaze roamed over the table. "Are there any other questions on this subject?" Silence. "Very well. "
Hoshi cleared his throat and looked down at his notes. "One of the first orders of business is that names are required. I am sure that you can appreciate exactly why- you are entering our society and we need a way to distinguish among you. Surnames are preferred as well, even if it is the same surname across the model line." He glanced at the Two, who nodded.
"We are currently working to assess the planet, to determine where the best areas for settlements will be. In the meantime, we'll begin the process of dissembling the ships. One resource that the plant is lacking in is tylium, so our fuel supplies will be running low soon enough. Additionally, the Galactica simply cannot survive another jump."
Now that was an interesting and slightly unexpected piece of information. And it hurt, because they had been this close to their goal, and yet… the One shook his head. He noticed that the Two saw him, but he didn't comment.
Admiral Hoshi was still droning on about the decommissioning process. The One listened with a part of his capacity, but dedicated more of his attention to studying the Two. He had a posture that looked like subservience, and the pips on his collars indicated that his rank was lower than that of the Admiral. And yet, there was something about him that seemed honored. It made the One grit his teeth.
He held his tongue and waited until Hoshi finished his droning and dismissed them all. The others dutifully stood and left, but the One sat at the table. The Two seemed to know exactly what he was waiting for, and he stayed as well.
"Well?" the Two said.
The One raised an eyebrow. "Well, what?"
The Two sighed in exasperation. "You're obviously dying to express your disapproval, so just go ahead and do it. That way you can get it out of your system and I can get it over with and we can both get on with the lives we're here to build."
"You take all the fun out of it," the One complained.
The Two's mouth twitched up in a smirk. "That’s the idea."
"So," the One said, "should I salute?"
"Only if you plan on joining the military," the Two said. "And then you'll have to, as I'm fairly certain I'll outrank you."
"You think this is funny, don't you?"
"Not in the least. But a little humor always makes a deadly serious situation more survivable. You taught us that."
The One snorted. "So we did." He indicated for the Two to sit across from him. After a moment's deliberate hesitation, the Two obeyed.
"So," he said slowly, "Jesse Conoy, right?"
"That's right."
"And Colonel, on top of it. Second in command."
Jesse snorted. "What, did you think they'd really hand me the Admiral stars? Even the lieutenants' pips I was wearing were an honor. Colonel is a special circumstance."
"Amazing," the One mused, "you've actually reached the point where you consider being one of them an 'honor'."
Jesse held his gaze evenly. "I do. And, might I add, you'd do well to start thinking along those lines. You chose to accept the terms instead of dying on the Colony. But if it's a mistake, we can remedy it."
"You'd really shoot me?" The One asked, amused.
"I really would," Jesse answered, without a trace of that same amusement.
"Well, there's no need to," the One said, standing up. "Tell Admiral Hoshi I'll be taking the name Vince Johal."
Jesse did the anagram in his head. "Cute," he said with a little smirk.
The One- now Vince- smirked back. "Not the word I'd use for any of this." He saluted mockingly, and left Jesse at the table.
***
He had memories of the Galactica, although this copy had never set foot there. So it was easy to find his way around, navigate corridors and causeways. Easier, even, than it had been for his brother, because rather than the overcrowded refuge the Galactica had been then, it was a ghost ship now, becoming emptier every day.
Below them was a planet spinning, a planet of blue and green promise. The One- Vince- he firmly reminded himself- found himself near a window, staring down at it, as often as he could.
"Hey, Vinnie! A hand, here?"
He turned, trying not to look disgusted at the shortening of his name. The man who'd called him was heavyset and jowly, and not someone that any One had had a memory of. He was taking apart a large antiquated toolbench. Vince sighed and went over to help.
"If you want a jumpsuit, there's a bunch over there," the man said, nodding his head towards a pile of orange cloth. "One of them should fit you."
Vince hesitated, and then looked down at the BDUs he was wearing and sighed capitulation. The jumpsuits were practical, he could admit that. Especially when there were no Centurions around. He found one that looked like it would fit and struggled into it.
"So, what are you doing?" he asked the man.
"Well, we've got to get this sucker down to Earth," the man said. "But it will sure as hell go down more easily in pieces than intact."
"All right." There was a bucket of old tools that the man was using. Vince leaned down and picked up a screwdriver.
"I'm Figurski," the man said as he began undoing a particularly stubborn nut. "Anthony, but everyone calls me Tony."
"Vince Johal."
"Yeah, I know. You been down to Earth yet?"
"No," Vince said sourly. "Have you?"
"One run," Figurski said, although he said it without much bitterness. "Sure looks like one hell of a place."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I'm from Aerelon originally, and there were lots of farms there. But I've never seen open space like this. It's pretty amazing."
"Open space is amazing," Vince said dryly.
Figurski cocked his head. "What would you have? If you could design the world, that is?"
The Ones had always taken pride in their mechanical nature. Vince thought of the data ports and the smooth black interiors of the basestars. He knew the other models projected frequently, but the Ones rarely did. The basestar was perfect as it was.
And without the other Cylons, the basestar would never be something he saw again.
"What is so appealing about open space?" Vince asked, rather than answering the question.
Figurski thought about it as he focused on the bench. "Well, there's a beauty to it," he said, "seeing the world as it was created. And then there's the possibility of it. When the world is open, you can do anything."
Something clicked, like a piece of a puzzle. "Is that what humans saw on New Caprica?"
Figurski stopped in his work and looked Vince straight in the eye. "Lots of us did, yeah."
For the first time, Vince felt guilty about New Caprica- just a little. But there wasn’t anything to be said. So he nodded and went back to the bench, and he and Figurski worked in silence.
***
Vince knew how to shut down the eating subroutine, but that also required a different sort of energy source. Even machines couldn't change the laws of thermodynamics, and expending energy still required an input. So he made his way to the mess hall.
The mess hall was largely empty; the Galactica's crew was small these days. But even so, the volume of conversation dropped when he entered.
He picked up his food, studying it dispassionately. Jesse and Figurski had both told him that the Fleet had been living on algae until the discovery of Earth. However, Earth had been discovered, and there was meat, vegetables, and fruit to choose from. He made his selections, and then looked around for an empty seat.
None of the other Cylons were eating now, and he didn't recognize most of the other humans. The only one he did know was Admiral Hoshi, who was eating with Gaeta. He made his way over and sat down.
"Vince." The Admiral was nothing but gracious. But Gaeta pulled back, eyes wide with sudden terror.
"I think I'm done," Gaeta muttered. He pushed his plate aside and struggled to his feet.
"Felix-" the Admiral began in a low voice, but Gaeta just shook his head.
"I need to get to the CIC anyway. Do what you need to do." Without a backwards glance, he left.
Vince had been cut like that before, by humans on New Caprica. It had never bothered him. They were humans, after all. But here on Galactica, the most that had ever happened was that the atmosphere turned chilly when he entered a room, especially from the officers. He raised his eyebrows.
Admiral Hoshi was still watching where Gaeta had disappeared, a worried frown between his eyes. He turned back to Vince. "Are you settling in all right?" he asked, with a little too much concern.
Vince glanced back at Gaeta. "This is what it's going to be like?" he asked Hoshi. "This is what I saved my own ass for?"
The sympathy leeched from Hoshi's face. "A One- at least one One- tortured him for a month on the Colony," he said angrily.
"It wasn't me," Vince said. "Not this copy."
"Yeah, well, forgive me for saying it, but you all look alike. You can hardly blame him."
"I'm not going to apologize."
Hoshi's face hardened further. "I didn't ask you to. But you might want to keep the frak away from him. Maybe you didn't do it, but on a gut level, it's hard for him not to think that you're the same one." Hoshi stabbed a piece of meat. "And while we're at it, I'd stay away from Brooks and Sarah, too. And Ellen."
"Anyone else whose delicate sensibilities need to be protected?" Hoshi's gaze was even, but angry. Vince realized he had overstepped. "I see."
"Do you?" Hoshi asked. He drained his drink. "If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to."
Vince watched him go, brows furrowed. He'd taken the Admiral as a wishy-washy sort, gentle and easily pushed over. He was beginning to think that that impression was very, very wrong.
He was still sitting and eating when Figurski joined him, plopping his tray down without so much as an inquiry. "You're on my crew this afternoon," Figurski informed him. "We've got to start dismantling part of the starboard landing bay down on Deck B. Should be fun."
"Fun?"
"Sure. That's where we had the last pyramid tournament, when Sam was trying to remember everything. Maybe we can get a few more games going."
"While we're dismantling the bay?"
Figurski shrugged. "Why not? We'll get it all done."
It baffled Vince, but after his gaffe with Hoshi, he held his tongue and nodded.
"I should go," Vince said after the silence stretched a little too long. "I have things to do."
"All right," Figurski said companionably. "See you in a half hour."
***
He found a Four- the one who had taken the name Todd- in the daycare, coloring with Hera Agathon. "Have you got a minute?" he asked.
Todd looked surprised, but gestured to the table. "Have a seat. Vince, right?"
"Right."
"How are you settling in?"
"Not nearly as well as you, it would seem," Vince said. "Wouldn't have expected it."
"Me, either," Todd said, wrapping his arm around Hera, who had started whimpering.. "But it's easier than I thought."
"What makes it easy? What even makes you want to do it?"
"Her." Todd smoothed Hera's curls. "At least, she's part of it."
"The shape of things to come," Vince said dryly.
Todd shook his head. "She's a little girl," he corrected. "And she's going to be my daughter."
"Really?" Vince hadn't heard that one.
"Really."
"Surprised the humans are letting her go with a Cylon."
"A Cylon and a human." Hera was nearly burrowing into Todd's side. "Was there something specific you wanted, Vince?"
How do you do it? Why do you do it? Are we really becoming human, giving up that perfection we could know as machines? How do you balance that, in a world that doesn't want us to be what we are?
"You're scaring her," Todd finally said. "She thinks you're John Cavil."
"Apparently, she's not the only one," Vince said. He stood up from the table. "Sorry to have bothered you."
Todd watched him go, his eyes clearly showing concern. "Vince… if you need to discuss it, we can do it at a different time, when Hera's with Jim."
"Discuss? What would I need to discuss? I just wanted to be sure you were settling in all right."
But as he left, he knew Todd didn't believe him. He couldn't blame him. He didn't believe himself.
***
John Cavil. That name, that face, that reputation was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. He'd turned his back on his brothers, betrayed them and run for cover, and yet no one could see that. All they could see was the One.
All he'd ever been was a One.
But what do you do? How do you find redemption among a people that don't want to give it, especially if you aren't even sure that you want it? Vince wasn't looking to become human- he was just looking to live.
***
He watched the pyramid game that eventually evolved on the landing bay. Sat and watched as humans ran back and forth, up and down the bay, sweating, laughing, shouting, arguing…
"It's fantastic, isn't it?" Figuski said, plopping down next to Vince. "After everything, they're still here, and they're still living. We're still living. Good to see hope on their faces again, though."
"Hope," Vince said dryly.
"Sure. All that open space down there. That's what it is, after all. Hope." Figurski smiled at him.
"You said it was the possibilities. That you can do anything."
"That's what gives people hope."
Open space. Possibilities. Hope. Somehow, those were all interconnected, all laced together with who Vince Johal was going to be, and yet, he couldn't see how the pieces fit. He couldn't figure out what made them click, what was missing, what the common element was. It was immensely frustrating.
"Can I ask you something?" he said.
"Sure," Figurski said with a shrug.
"Jesse Conoy. The Colonel. Would you say he has a place on Galactica?"
Figurski's eyes were still fixed on the game, but he nodded. "I'd say he's made one for himself. Helps that he and the Admiral are so close."
There was something there- something that made two of the pieces click together. Todd had Hera and Jim. Jesse had Hoshi. Sharon Agathon had had her husband, and Sarah had taken the last name of Gaeta. Caprica had Baltar. And Boomer… Boomer had loved them all.
Love.
The Cylons that had found their place amongst humanity all had love. Not that romantic crap, no flowers and singing birds, but love. Friendship and trust, a connection to a human that opened them up and made them see… see something that made them want to be a part of this world.
Vince had come here to survive. He hadn't thought about assimilating, or allying, or whatever the frak they were calling it. He hadn't wanted to make those connections, but maybe he needed to.
"You still there, Vinnie?"
Vince nodded. "Yeah. Hey- if there's another round, think I could play?"
"If you think you can keep up with us." Figuski tossed him the ball, and Vince grinned.
"I think I can, Tony. Let's go."
Title: Pictures of You (aka: Geeks and Tattoos)
Summary: For kappamaki33, who wanted the story behind the picture of Hoshi hugging Gaeta that appears in my fics any time I can put it there.
"No. I don't believe it."
Felix took a deep drink from the bottle they were passing between them. "I'm serious," he told Dee, leaning over and tying his shoe. "He has a tattoo. Three of them, actually."
"Hoshi. We are talking about the same Hoshi, right?"
"Communications officer, bridge bunny, really bad haircut," Felix confirmed. "Yup."
"You're joking," Dee insisted.
"Trust me. I've seen the man naked," Felix said smugly.
"What are his tattoos of?" Dee asked.
"There's a religious symbol on his bicep," Felix answered, "and a Pegasus on his shoulder. And he's got a dragon."
"Geeks with tattoos," Dee mused. "If that's true, you two are absolutely made for each other."
"And he's got freckles," Felix added glibly.
Dee took the bottle from Felix right as he was about to take another drink. "If you're going to start waxing poetic about freckles, you've had more than enough."
"But he does!" Felix insisted. "And they're kind of adorable."
"You've definitely had enough," Dee said. She drank from the bottle herself. "Frak, Felix, you're such a lightweight."
"Doesn't change the facts," Felix said.
Dee made a decision. "I don't believe you," she said. "I really need to see this for myself."
Felix got to his feet, wobbling as he did so. "All right," he said. "I think he said he'd be headed to the rec room after his shift. Can I tear you away from waiting for your husband long enough to find him?"
Dee was much steadier on her feet. "Let's go," she said.
***
They found Hoshi in the rec room, playing Triad with a few of the Pegasus guys, laughing uproariously over some joke.
"So then," Narcho said, waving his hands demonstratively, "I come in to find the two of them half-naked, using a towel as a tent, and with a chair, and a diagram attached to a clipboard. So, I picked up the clipboard, and she ordered me to start taking notes!"
Stinger was laughing so hard that he had tears running down his face, and Hoshi was doubled over. Dee and Felix exchanged confused glances and then shrugged. Timmins finally noticed the two of them standing there and thudded Hoshi on the arm. He looked up, wiping his face.
"Oh, hey," he said, his eyes softening as he took in Felix. He glanced at Dee and smiled. "Hey, Dee," he said. "What's going on?"
"Felix says you have tattoos," Dee said bluntly. "I don't believe him."
"Felix says, huh?" Stinger demanded. He turned his attention to Felix. "And how would you know, Gaeta?"
Felix looked a lot more controlled around other people. Dee was impressed that he could fake any level of sobriety at the moment. "X-ray vision," he said sarcastically. "How do you think I know?"
Hoshi reached out and wrapped an arm around Felix's waist, pulling him down into his lap. "Do I even want to know what you two were talking about that the subject of tattoos came up?" he asked Felix.
"Ah! No! Virgin ears!" Narcho shouted, clapping his hands over his ears.
"After the story you just told?" Stinger laughed. His own eyes fixed on Dee speculatively, and Dee half-blushed, half thrust her breasts forward a little, inviting him to look. Not that she'd ever cheat on Lee, but damn it, Lee could stand to be reminded that she was an attractive woman every now and then.
"You guys want to join us?" Timmins asked. He glanced at Narcho. "Unless Narcho here is going to be overwhelmed by bridge bunny cooties."
"Four of you at the table at once is pushing it," Narcho admitted. "It's gonna cost you." Dee extended the bottle she and Felix had been sharing. "All right," Narcho sighed, taking it. "You are worthy."
"Oh, thanks," Dee said sarcastically. Felix was still snuggled on Hoshi's lap, proof that he was already smashed if he was being that affectionate in front of people. Not that Hoshi was any better, running his hand up Felix's neck and into his curls, tracing his ears.
"Enough," Stinger said, looking as repulsed as Dee felt. "If you guys are going to play, play. Don't just crawl all over each other."
"We aren't," Felix said primly, although he removed himself from Hoshi's lap and sat in a chair. "We're being models of decorum and discretion."
"Well, yeah," Narcho said, "for the Galactica."
Dee whacked him. "We are perfectly capable of copporting- capporting-"
"Cavorting," Timmins supplied.
"Consorting ourselves with decorum," Dee said indignantly, and then hiccuped.
"Which is why you're talking about Hoshi naked," Narcho pointed out.
"Precisely," Dee said, and hiccuped again. "At least Felix wasn't showing me pictures."
"Only because I don't have any," Felix said mournfully.
Timmins looked at Hoshi and shuddered. "I, for one, find that rather comforting," he said. "No offense, but if there are naked pictures of you going around, I really don't want to see them." He looked at Dee. "However, if you've got any, hand them over now, please."
"So say we all," Stinger agreed, clinking his glass against Timmins's.
"I've only got them if Narcho's got them," Dee said.
"Oh, for frak's sake, are we going to play or not?" Narcho asked, turning surprising--ly red and busying himself by shuffling the cards. "I'll deal."
Timmins groaned. "No more Triad," he begged. "Please. That's all we do anymore."
"Game's not Triad," Narcho informed them. "It's Dirty Cheatin' Hearts."
"Yes," Stinger hissed gleefully.
"Dirty Cheatin' Hearts?" Dee asked. "I've heard of Hearts, but not-"
"It's like Hearts," Hoshi explained. "You'll catch on real quick." He fanned his hand out and smirked, and then pushed forward his cubits. "Let's go."
Hearts wasn't a complicated game, even with a double deck where the cards could cancel out. Dee was feeling like she was on firm enough ground, but that was until Narcho tossed a heart out way too early.
"Hey, wait!" she protested. "Hearts haven't been broken yet!"
"That's what makes it dirty," Narcho said.
"Really?" Felix asked, disappointed. "That's all?"
Hoshi laughed, draping an arm over his shoulders. "That's all, baby," he said, nuzzling Felix. Dee was about to puke when she noticed his eyes were open, and that Hoshi was looking into Felix's hand.
"Wait a minute…" she began, but Stinger kicked her under the table and held a finger up to his lips, and then winked. And Dee began to catch on to the "cheatin'" part as well.
It wasn't that the Pegasus guys cheated, Dee realized after a hand. It was that they cheated so blatantly. There were code words and bad puns to get people to cancel each other out, alliances were formed and destroyed in a matter of turns, but the real clincher was when Stinger got up to use the head and Hoshi, Narcho, and Timmins immediately confiscated his cards.
"What do you think you’re doing?" Felix demanded, shocked.
"Doctoring his hand," Hoshi explained, like it was the most natural and obvious thing in the world.
"Give him all reds!" Narcho crowed. "Make it impossible for him to cancel!"
Timmins was laughing as everyone donated their worst cards. "But he'll know," Dee pointed out.
"I'll know what?" Stinger asked as Timmins slammed the hand back on the table and pretended innocence. He stared at it, and then groaned. "I left my cards here, didn't I? Frak." He picked them up and looked at his new hand. "You frakkers…" he growled, even as everyone laughed. "I'm not betting cubits on this."
"You can't fold," Narcho said. "Not in Hearts."
"No, but I can change the rules. Article of clothing."
"Now we're talking!" Hoshi said gleefully, but Dee's eyes narrowed.
"An article of clothing?" she asked suspiciously.
"I've only got so many frakking cubits left," Stinger said. "If you lot think I'm blowing them on this hand…"
"Well," Dee said, her eyes roaming over Stinger's admittedly very nice chest, "can't say I'm gonna complain."
And so it went, with Stinger taking almost every trick. The hilarity was almost reaching new levels when Felix, consummate card-counter, finally caught on.
"Oh, frak, no," he said. "Someone take a trick."
"What? Why?" Hoshi asked, and then his eyes widened as well. His lips moved as he did some fast calculations. "Oh, frak…"
Stinger's grin became far more smug. "Just keep playing, boys," he said.
"What?" Narcho asked. "I don't get it."
Dee groaned. She might not count cards, but she wasn't a bridge bunny for nothing. "He's gonna shoot the moon."
"In a double deck game?" Narcho said. "No way."
"He is," Hoshi sighed. "We did a little too good a job."
The rest of the hand played out in the inevitable manner, with Stinger's grin widening and everyone else groaning as the tricks with points went to him. In the end, he'd managed to collect all the points.
"All right," he said, sitting back and crossing his arms. "Let's see the clothing start falling."
Dee sighed and shrugged off her BDU jacket, and Timmins did the same. Felix and Hoshi exchanged glances and took off their duty blues jackets, confirming that he indeed did have a tattoo on the bicep. Narcho, never a fan of conformity, stood up and removed his pants.
"What?" he asked. "For one, I'm sitting. My legs are under a table. And for two…" he leered, "I've got nothing to be ashamed of. I'll bet I'm bigger than-"
"Oh no," Dee interrupted. "No dick measuring contents." She looked around at the five of them. "I don't even want to know who would win."
"Louis," Felix suggested. Hoshi turned red, but the smugness was undeniable as well.
"I think I might be with Dee here," Stinger said as he dealt. "I'm really not sure I want any more details."
Felix shrugged. "Let's just say I haven't been up close and personal with anyone larger." Dee thought Hoshi's head might explode from the amount of blood that rushed to it.
"Wait a minute," Narcho said interestedly. "Does this mean that Hoshi's hung better than Baltar?"
Felix rearranged his cards. "I haven't seen you all in the showers," he said, "but I'm willing to venture you're all hung better than our esteemed former President."
"No way," Timmins said, although Dee was fairly certain the shock was coming from Felix actually confirming he had slept with Baltar, not the idea of Baltar not being overly endowed. Gods knew she was shocked enough herself. "You're frakking kidding me."
"Starbuck," Felix shouted above the general rabble, not looking up from his cards. "Who's got the smallest dick you've ever seen?"
"That would be you, Gaeta," Starbuck shouted back.
Felix made a rude gesture in her direction over his head. "You are so not my type," he informed her. "Come on. Who's the smallest?"
Starbuck snorted. "Gaius Baltar."
"See?" Felix said. "Starbuck and I actually agree on something. I rest my case."
"All right," Timmins said, "you win."
"Actually," Stinger said, playing his last card, "I think you're about to lose. Count em up, people."
Two hands later, Dee, Timmins, and Hoshi had lost their tanks, Narcho had surrendered his underwear but still wore his duty blues jacket, Felix was wearing tanks and boxers, and Stinger was sitting fully clothed.
"This is so wrong." Starbuck had wandered over now that Gaeta had attracted her attention.
"What's wrong?" Hoshi asked.
"You guys are bridge bunnies," Starbuck said with derision, picking up their bottle and taking a deep drink. "Don't you frakkers count cards like anything? And a Viper jock is beating you?"
"Actually," Hoshi said, rearranging his cards, "we're just exhibitionists." He reached up and took the cigarette she was smoking from her mouth, took a deep drag, and then put it back between her lips. Starbuck looked down at him in shock. "Stick around and you'll get a real show."
"Maybe I'm underestimating bridge bunnies," she said. "Maybe I should have a seat." She settled on Hoshi's lap.
Hoshi put a hand on her hip and pushed her back up. "I can grab you a chair, if you want," he said. He leaned over, grabbed one, and as he pulled it in, stopped to kiss Felix, open mouthed and messy.
Starbuck burst into laughter.
"Oh frak me," she said between gasps. "You're with Gaeta here? Yeah, you're most definitely not my type. I like someone with a little life in the sack." She sat in the chair that Hoshi had pulled over. "Bridge bunnies losing a strip poker," she said again. "Really, someone should get a camera. This is an occasion that needs to be documented."
"It's not strip poker," Noel said, still unconcerned about the fact he was naked below the waist. "It's strip Dirty Cheatin' Hearts."
"Dirty Cheatin' Hearts?" Starbuck asked confusedly, and six evil grins were her response.
***
By the time someone got a camera, Dee had managed to confirm that all of the Pegasus guys had the same Pegasus tattoos on their shoulders. And the fact that the tiger tattoo that she had on her hip matched the one Felix had on his chest was cause for interested speculation, and a few derogatory remarks from Starbuck that Dee turned off extremely quickly with a single mention of Lee. However, the dragon tattoo on Hoshi never appeared, which either meant Felix was lying, or the tattoo was somewhere under the boxers he'd managed to keep on- or under his left sock. Dee decided she'd just believe Felix rather than looking for validation.
She managed to get her tanks back on right as Slipshot was dragged in. Narcho, however, was leaning back in his chair, fully naked except for his socks. Starbuck had only lost her jacket, which wasn't a surprise, and Stinger was only barefoot.
"I was told there would be more naked men," Slipshot complained. But she snapped a picture of Narcho anyway. Narcho gave her two thumbs- and one other portion of his anatomy- up. "That oughta sell well on the black market," she said.
"I can sign them," Narcho offered. "Even give it the lipstick kiss."
"She wants to make money off them, Narcho," Starbuck laughed. She handed Slipshot the bottle. "Here. You're gonna need this."
"You're damn right," Slipshot said, looking at the offerings before her. She took a deep swig. "They're drunk, right?" she said, pointing to Hoshi and Felix, who were sitting in their underwear and laughing at something, Hoshi's hand constantly landing on Felix's bare knee.
"Off their asses," Dee confirmed.
"Good." Slipshot snapped another picture. "Blackmail's good for something."
The camera kind of fell flat, Dee thought. To be honest, it really wasn't that funny out of context- or she suspected it wouldn't be when she sobered up. But Slipshot looked like she'd needed the break anyway, and she hung around, talking and laughing with the other pilots.
Dee never remembered the rest of that evening. She'd had far too much to drink, and the adrenaline drained from her sometime around then, leaving her loopy and tired. Eventually, she wound down and made her way back to her quarters.
When she left, she saw Felix and Hoshi, fully dressed, sitting on the floor off in a corner. Felix was sitting between Hoshi's legs, Hoshi's arms wrapped around him as he kissed his cheek. As Dee left, she thought she saw a flash go off.
***
The picture hung on the wall, and he touched gently. They looked so young… so ridiculously young and happy. It was one of his favorite pictures, and in a way it hurt to look at it now, now that Felix was dead.
There was a noise, and someone came up behind him. "It's funny, isn't it?" he asked the intruder. "It's such a good picture, and I… I never even knew how it was taken."
"With a camera," his father said. "That's the usual method."
"That’s not what I meant. I asked Felix once, but… he didn't remember. He claimed Louis didn't, either. It's just… there's this picture, and it's the two of them, and now there's no one alive to remember what that moment was."
"You know what that moment was- it's right there on their faces. It's love."
Gabriel sighed. "I know." Jesse came around to his side to look at the picture with him. "I'm going to miss him so much," he told his father.
"I know," Jesse said. His hair was white now, even his beard. Gabriel wondered if it had been that way for long, or if it was only these past few months. "But we knew that once Louis went, Felix wouldn't be far behind. He was only hanging on to see his namesake." He smiled at the little bundle that Gabriel was holding and touched the baby's head.
"That's the solace I've got," Gabriel said. "They're together, and he met little Felix." He kissed his son's head gently.
"There's more solace than that," Jesse said. "They had a long life together- thirty two years. They had you and your sister, they had friends, they had their jobs, they had the blessings of your other children, they had this home. They were happy, Gabriel. Happier than they once thought they'd ever have a chance of being. And you'll see them again some day, on the other side."
"Yeah. How's Mom doing?"
A little of the light and peace dimmed from his father's face. "It's hard on her," he admitted. "I think she'll be the next to go. And God willing, I'll follow her shortly." He noticed Gabriel's shudder. "It's all right, son. It's God's plan that life happens this way."
"I know," Gabriel said. "It's just… there are some people you wish could live forever."
"I know." Jesse's hand was on his back. "Come on," he said. "The funeral is about to start. It's time to say goodbye."
Gabriel nodded. But as he turned, something caught his eye. "I'll be right there, Dad," he said. Jesse nodded and left.
Gabriel knew this cabin, it was a second home to him. He knew every nook and cranny, he sometimes felt like he'd known every facet of his godfathers' lives. But he'd never seen the woman that emerged from the corner, coming to look at the picture. She was young, with smooth dark skin and black hair, and beautiful green eyes.
"Are you real?" he asked her.
She smiled at him. "Very." She stood next to Gabriel, and he suddenly realized exactly what she was.
"You're an angel."
"A simplification," she said, but she didn't deny it.
"What… why are you here?" he asked.
She didn’t answer at first, she just studied his face. Then her eyes dropped to the baby. "May I?" His wife would kill him if she knew, but Gabriel handed little Felix over. The angel turned back the blanket and studied his little face. "He's beautiful," she said.
"Thank you."
She bent and kissed Felix's forehead, whispering something too softly for Gabriel to hear. Then she handed the baby back. "I was there, you know."
"What?"
"The night that picture was taken. I was there."
"I imagine you were."
She laughed. "Not like that." She glanced at the clock. "Come on. We have a few minutes yet. Sit down, and I'll tell you the story."
Title: But That Was When I Ruled the World
Summary: For grey_sw, who wanted Vinnie the One's life on Galatica at the end of The Space Between Us.
The Colony wasn't right.
The One had felt that from the beginning, but had kept his silence because his feelings were not logical. Logic dictated that the Colony was right, with resources, Centurions, and laboratory equipment, damaged as it may be, that could help rebuild resurrection. And yet, it wasn't right, and he couldn't put the words to it.
But right or wrong didn't matter, not right now. He ran through the corridors of the Colony, heading towards the Galactica, a gun in his hand. There were a few other Fours and Fives doing the same thing, but none of his brothers. They wanted nothing to do with the humans.
Well, he wanted nothing to do with the humans, either, but he wanted to live. And apparently, the two were interconnected.
Well, frak.
***
The One felt it when the Colony exploded; saw it through severed channels in his mind. It hurt, but he clenched his jaw and clung to the wall of Galactica. All of his brothers, dying in one intense second of agony, never to return.
But he was alive, and right now, that was all that mattered. That was all that could matter, any more, the lives each of them could make for themselves.
The Galactica had jumped, he could feel that. But he wasn't connected to anything. He didn't know where they were, what they were doing, what the ship was feeling. He felt oddly afloat, and he clung more fiercely to the wall. His knees threatened to give out and he was quite sure he was going to be sick. He closed his eyes and focused on his makeup, systematically shutting off responses until his equilibrium was restored. He slowly slid down the wall, sitting with his back against it and studying the other Cylons who had come on board.
A Four was retching. Weak. He looked away contemptuously. Another Four was looking anxious, staring at the Eight who was sitting beside a human. The Eight's eyes were closed and she was still breathing heavily, her hands resting over her slightly swollen abdomen. The human, whom he remembered well from New Caprica, was swallowing hard, his hands caressing the floor. A Five was helping one of his brothers, and a Four was bent over the traitor Eight, who appeared to be dead. And the One couldn't even grieve her loss.
A child was crying. The One turned his head, trying to focus his eyes. A little girl, snuffling wailing against Gaius Baltar. Well, if he had to be that close to Baltar, he'd be wailing, too. But then he realized it was Hera, and he stared at her blankly.
Was he supposed to feel something as he looked at her? Wasn't she the subject of prophecy? The shape of things to come? All he saw was a runny nose and a shrieking voice, and messy curls that would need untangling. He looked away.
"Where should we go?" one of the Fours asked.
Gaeta sighed, and scrubbed his face with his hands. "The infirmary," he said finally. "It's easier to get to than the CIC, and the Admiral will end up there."
"Besides," Baltar said indignantly, "this child needs a doctor."
"Is she hurt?" the One asked.
Baltar stared at him like he was the insane one. "She needs a doctor," he repeated.
And this was the brightest mind that the humans had to offer. The One rolled his eyes. Although, to his sour amusement, he saw Gaeta doing the same.
"Which way is the infirmary?" a Five asked, looking around him with an expression of distaste. The One couldn't blame him. The Galactica was inelegant, clunky and rusty. He thought of the Colony, or even better, a baseship, and the halls of Galactica sprang into smooth, ordered panels. He relaxed a little.
The layout was not at all complicated- he committed it to memory easily. And when they entered the infirmary, he stepped back against the wall, watching quietly.
There was a Four already in the room. He had a mask on, and was bowed intently over a human. The One searched the data as best he could, and realized that this was the Four that had been selected to work specifically with the prisoners. He made a note to ask some serious questions of this one later. The Admiral and Ellen Tigh approached, but they veered to the Eight and Gaeta.
A woman came over and eyed the Cylons all up. "All right," she said curtly, her face an attempt at blankness, but with condensation marked clearly across her features. "If you need medical help, over there. If you don’t, sit over there and out of the way." She pointed to a few beds and chairs arranged in a haphazard manner.
"If you need more help," a Four began, but the woman was moving away already.
The One shrugged and found a seat. Somehow, he suspected that they were in for a long wait.
***
The Cylons were assigned a room of their own. "Racks," the ensign who showed them where they were staying insisted. "The Admiral thinks that you'll be more comfortable here to start than on the basestar. It's not for long, anyway."
"Thank you," the Four who offered to help in the infirmary said. The ensign nodded.
"Racks," a Five said, looking around with a wrinkled nose. "It almost sounds vulgar."
"It's a derivation from barracks," another Five corrected him. He shrugged off his dirty, torn blazer and opened a locker. "Not quite what we're used to," he said, pulling out a threadbare pare of BDUs, "but they'll do."
"I'd rather take my chances with the rebels," the first Five muttered, looking at the drab green cloth.
"I'm sure we all would have rather gotten onto the other basestars," the One said, thinking of the Ones, Fours, and Fives that had evaded the nuclear detonation that had destroyed the Colony. He wondered how many of them were left, and if he'd ever see them again in his lifetime. He opened a locker himself and looked at the contents. The BDUs, tanks, a towel, a bag, a folded blanket, socks, boots… none of which he was convinced would fit.
Later, he found that they did.
***
The supposed Admiral Hoshi was a somewhat tall man with a serious face that looked far too young for his position. He stood in front of the Cylons easily, a Two at his side like a loyal pit bull, wearing a Colonial uniform. An unexpected rage rose in the One at that particular sight, and he had to look away.
"I'm glad you made the decision to join us," Admiral Hoshi was saying. "As I'm sure you have heard, the Galactica and the Fleet are now in orbit around a habitable planet. As the Fleet is effectively out of resources and a truce has been reached-"
"A truce?" a Five said. "I don't remember a truce."
Admiral Hoshi's gaze was surprisingly even. "You wouldn't," he said. "The truce was between the Twos, Sixes, and Eights and the humans. You could view yourselves as prisoners, or as refugees, or as Cylon citizens seeking asylum. Personally, I prefer the last one." The Five looked down, and Hoshi's gaze roamed over the table. "Are there any other questions on this subject?" Silence. "Very well. "
Hoshi cleared his throat and looked down at his notes. "One of the first orders of business is that names are required. I am sure that you can appreciate exactly why- you are entering our society and we need a way to distinguish among you. Surnames are preferred as well, even if it is the same surname across the model line." He glanced at the Two, who nodded.
"We are currently working to assess the planet, to determine where the best areas for settlements will be. In the meantime, we'll begin the process of dissembling the ships. One resource that the plant is lacking in is tylium, so our fuel supplies will be running low soon enough. Additionally, the Galactica simply cannot survive another jump."
Now that was an interesting and slightly unexpected piece of information. And it hurt, because they had been this close to their goal, and yet… the One shook his head. He noticed that the Two saw him, but he didn't comment.
Admiral Hoshi was still droning on about the decommissioning process. The One listened with a part of his capacity, but dedicated more of his attention to studying the Two. He had a posture that looked like subservience, and the pips on his collars indicated that his rank was lower than that of the Admiral. And yet, there was something about him that seemed honored. It made the One grit his teeth.
He held his tongue and waited until Hoshi finished his droning and dismissed them all. The others dutifully stood and left, but the One sat at the table. The Two seemed to know exactly what he was waiting for, and he stayed as well.
"Well?" the Two said.
The One raised an eyebrow. "Well, what?"
The Two sighed in exasperation. "You're obviously dying to express your disapproval, so just go ahead and do it. That way you can get it out of your system and I can get it over with and we can both get on with the lives we're here to build."
"You take all the fun out of it," the One complained.
The Two's mouth twitched up in a smirk. "That’s the idea."
"So," the One said, "should I salute?"
"Only if you plan on joining the military," the Two said. "And then you'll have to, as I'm fairly certain I'll outrank you."
"You think this is funny, don't you?"
"Not in the least. But a little humor always makes a deadly serious situation more survivable. You taught us that."
The One snorted. "So we did." He indicated for the Two to sit across from him. After a moment's deliberate hesitation, the Two obeyed.
"So," he said slowly, "Jesse Conoy, right?"
"That's right."
"And Colonel, on top of it. Second in command."
Jesse snorted. "What, did you think they'd really hand me the Admiral stars? Even the lieutenants' pips I was wearing were an honor. Colonel is a special circumstance."
"Amazing," the One mused, "you've actually reached the point where you consider being one of them an 'honor'."
Jesse held his gaze evenly. "I do. And, might I add, you'd do well to start thinking along those lines. You chose to accept the terms instead of dying on the Colony. But if it's a mistake, we can remedy it."
"You'd really shoot me?" The One asked, amused.
"I really would," Jesse answered, without a trace of that same amusement.
"Well, there's no need to," the One said, standing up. "Tell Admiral Hoshi I'll be taking the name Vince Johal."
Jesse did the anagram in his head. "Cute," he said with a little smirk.
The One- now Vince- smirked back. "Not the word I'd use for any of this." He saluted mockingly, and left Jesse at the table.
***
He had memories of the Galactica, although this copy had never set foot there. So it was easy to find his way around, navigate corridors and causeways. Easier, even, than it had been for his brother, because rather than the overcrowded refuge the Galactica had been then, it was a ghost ship now, becoming emptier every day.
Below them was a planet spinning, a planet of blue and green promise. The One- Vince- he firmly reminded himself- found himself near a window, staring down at it, as often as he could.
"Hey, Vinnie! A hand, here?"
He turned, trying not to look disgusted at the shortening of his name. The man who'd called him was heavyset and jowly, and not someone that any One had had a memory of. He was taking apart a large antiquated toolbench. Vince sighed and went over to help.
"If you want a jumpsuit, there's a bunch over there," the man said, nodding his head towards a pile of orange cloth. "One of them should fit you."
Vince hesitated, and then looked down at the BDUs he was wearing and sighed capitulation. The jumpsuits were practical, he could admit that. Especially when there were no Centurions around. He found one that looked like it would fit and struggled into it.
"So, what are you doing?" he asked the man.
"Well, we've got to get this sucker down to Earth," the man said. "But it will sure as hell go down more easily in pieces than intact."
"All right." There was a bucket of old tools that the man was using. Vince leaned down and picked up a screwdriver.
"I'm Figurski," the man said as he began undoing a particularly stubborn nut. "Anthony, but everyone calls me Tony."
"Vince Johal."
"Yeah, I know. You been down to Earth yet?"
"No," Vince said sourly. "Have you?"
"One run," Figurski said, although he said it without much bitterness. "Sure looks like one hell of a place."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I'm from Aerelon originally, and there were lots of farms there. But I've never seen open space like this. It's pretty amazing."
"Open space is amazing," Vince said dryly.
Figurski cocked his head. "What would you have? If you could design the world, that is?"
The Ones had always taken pride in their mechanical nature. Vince thought of the data ports and the smooth black interiors of the basestars. He knew the other models projected frequently, but the Ones rarely did. The basestar was perfect as it was.
And without the other Cylons, the basestar would never be something he saw again.
"What is so appealing about open space?" Vince asked, rather than answering the question.
Figurski thought about it as he focused on the bench. "Well, there's a beauty to it," he said, "seeing the world as it was created. And then there's the possibility of it. When the world is open, you can do anything."
Something clicked, like a piece of a puzzle. "Is that what humans saw on New Caprica?"
Figurski stopped in his work and looked Vince straight in the eye. "Lots of us did, yeah."
For the first time, Vince felt guilty about New Caprica- just a little. But there wasn’t anything to be said. So he nodded and went back to the bench, and he and Figurski worked in silence.
***
Vince knew how to shut down the eating subroutine, but that also required a different sort of energy source. Even machines couldn't change the laws of thermodynamics, and expending energy still required an input. So he made his way to the mess hall.
The mess hall was largely empty; the Galactica's crew was small these days. But even so, the volume of conversation dropped when he entered.
He picked up his food, studying it dispassionately. Jesse and Figurski had both told him that the Fleet had been living on algae until the discovery of Earth. However, Earth had been discovered, and there was meat, vegetables, and fruit to choose from. He made his selections, and then looked around for an empty seat.
None of the other Cylons were eating now, and he didn't recognize most of the other humans. The only one he did know was Admiral Hoshi, who was eating with Gaeta. He made his way over and sat down.
"Vince." The Admiral was nothing but gracious. But Gaeta pulled back, eyes wide with sudden terror.
"I think I'm done," Gaeta muttered. He pushed his plate aside and struggled to his feet.
"Felix-" the Admiral began in a low voice, but Gaeta just shook his head.
"I need to get to the CIC anyway. Do what you need to do." Without a backwards glance, he left.
Vince had been cut like that before, by humans on New Caprica. It had never bothered him. They were humans, after all. But here on Galactica, the most that had ever happened was that the atmosphere turned chilly when he entered a room, especially from the officers. He raised his eyebrows.
Admiral Hoshi was still watching where Gaeta had disappeared, a worried frown between his eyes. He turned back to Vince. "Are you settling in all right?" he asked, with a little too much concern.
Vince glanced back at Gaeta. "This is what it's going to be like?" he asked Hoshi. "This is what I saved my own ass for?"
The sympathy leeched from Hoshi's face. "A One- at least one One- tortured him for a month on the Colony," he said angrily.
"It wasn't me," Vince said. "Not this copy."
"Yeah, well, forgive me for saying it, but you all look alike. You can hardly blame him."
"I'm not going to apologize."
Hoshi's face hardened further. "I didn't ask you to. But you might want to keep the frak away from him. Maybe you didn't do it, but on a gut level, it's hard for him not to think that you're the same one." Hoshi stabbed a piece of meat. "And while we're at it, I'd stay away from Brooks and Sarah, too. And Ellen."
"Anyone else whose delicate sensibilities need to be protected?" Hoshi's gaze was even, but angry. Vince realized he had overstepped. "I see."
"Do you?" Hoshi asked. He drained his drink. "If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to."
Vince watched him go, brows furrowed. He'd taken the Admiral as a wishy-washy sort, gentle and easily pushed over. He was beginning to think that that impression was very, very wrong.
He was still sitting and eating when Figurski joined him, plopping his tray down without so much as an inquiry. "You're on my crew this afternoon," Figurski informed him. "We've got to start dismantling part of the starboard landing bay down on Deck B. Should be fun."
"Fun?"
"Sure. That's where we had the last pyramid tournament, when Sam was trying to remember everything. Maybe we can get a few more games going."
"While we're dismantling the bay?"
Figurski shrugged. "Why not? We'll get it all done."
It baffled Vince, but after his gaffe with Hoshi, he held his tongue and nodded.
"I should go," Vince said after the silence stretched a little too long. "I have things to do."
"All right," Figurski said companionably. "See you in a half hour."
***
He found a Four- the one who had taken the name Todd- in the daycare, coloring with Hera Agathon. "Have you got a minute?" he asked.
Todd looked surprised, but gestured to the table. "Have a seat. Vince, right?"
"Right."
"How are you settling in?"
"Not nearly as well as you, it would seem," Vince said. "Wouldn't have expected it."
"Me, either," Todd said, wrapping his arm around Hera, who had started whimpering.. "But it's easier than I thought."
"What makes it easy? What even makes you want to do it?"
"Her." Todd smoothed Hera's curls. "At least, she's part of it."
"The shape of things to come," Vince said dryly.
Todd shook his head. "She's a little girl," he corrected. "And she's going to be my daughter."
"Really?" Vince hadn't heard that one.
"Really."
"Surprised the humans are letting her go with a Cylon."
"A Cylon and a human." Hera was nearly burrowing into Todd's side. "Was there something specific you wanted, Vince?"
How do you do it? Why do you do it? Are we really becoming human, giving up that perfection we could know as machines? How do you balance that, in a world that doesn't want us to be what we are?
"You're scaring her," Todd finally said. "She thinks you're John Cavil."
"Apparently, she's not the only one," Vince said. He stood up from the table. "Sorry to have bothered you."
Todd watched him go, his eyes clearly showing concern. "Vince… if you need to discuss it, we can do it at a different time, when Hera's with Jim."
"Discuss? What would I need to discuss? I just wanted to be sure you were settling in all right."
But as he left, he knew Todd didn't believe him. He couldn't blame him. He didn't believe himself.
***
John Cavil. That name, that face, that reputation was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. He'd turned his back on his brothers, betrayed them and run for cover, and yet no one could see that. All they could see was the One.
All he'd ever been was a One.
But what do you do? How do you find redemption among a people that don't want to give it, especially if you aren't even sure that you want it? Vince wasn't looking to become human- he was just looking to live.
***
He watched the pyramid game that eventually evolved on the landing bay. Sat and watched as humans ran back and forth, up and down the bay, sweating, laughing, shouting, arguing…
"It's fantastic, isn't it?" Figuski said, plopping down next to Vince. "After everything, they're still here, and they're still living. We're still living. Good to see hope on their faces again, though."
"Hope," Vince said dryly.
"Sure. All that open space down there. That's what it is, after all. Hope." Figurski smiled at him.
"You said it was the possibilities. That you can do anything."
"That's what gives people hope."
Open space. Possibilities. Hope. Somehow, those were all interconnected, all laced together with who Vince Johal was going to be, and yet, he couldn't see how the pieces fit. He couldn't figure out what made them click, what was missing, what the common element was. It was immensely frustrating.
"Can I ask you something?" he said.
"Sure," Figurski said with a shrug.
"Jesse Conoy. The Colonel. Would you say he has a place on Galactica?"
Figurski's eyes were still fixed on the game, but he nodded. "I'd say he's made one for himself. Helps that he and the Admiral are so close."
There was something there- something that made two of the pieces click together. Todd had Hera and Jim. Jesse had Hoshi. Sharon Agathon had had her husband, and Sarah had taken the last name of Gaeta. Caprica had Baltar. And Boomer… Boomer had loved them all.
Love.
The Cylons that had found their place amongst humanity all had love. Not that romantic crap, no flowers and singing birds, but love. Friendship and trust, a connection to a human that opened them up and made them see… see something that made them want to be a part of this world.
Vince had come here to survive. He hadn't thought about assimilating, or allying, or whatever the frak they were calling it. He hadn't wanted to make those connections, but maybe he needed to.
"You still there, Vinnie?"
Vince nodded. "Yeah. Hey- if there's another round, think I could play?"
"If you think you can keep up with us." Figuski tossed him the ball, and Vince grinned.
"I think I can, Tony. Let's go."
Title: Pictures of You (aka: Geeks and Tattoos)
Summary: For kappamaki33, who wanted the story behind the picture of Hoshi hugging Gaeta that appears in my fics any time I can put it there.
"No. I don't believe it."
Felix took a deep drink from the bottle they were passing between them. "I'm serious," he told Dee, leaning over and tying his shoe. "He has a tattoo. Three of them, actually."
"Hoshi. We are talking about the same Hoshi, right?"
"Communications officer, bridge bunny, really bad haircut," Felix confirmed. "Yup."
"You're joking," Dee insisted.
"Trust me. I've seen the man naked," Felix said smugly.
"What are his tattoos of?" Dee asked.
"There's a religious symbol on his bicep," Felix answered, "and a Pegasus on his shoulder. And he's got a dragon."
"Geeks with tattoos," Dee mused. "If that's true, you two are absolutely made for each other."
"And he's got freckles," Felix added glibly.
Dee took the bottle from Felix right as he was about to take another drink. "If you're going to start waxing poetic about freckles, you've had more than enough."
"But he does!" Felix insisted. "And they're kind of adorable."
"You've definitely had enough," Dee said. She drank from the bottle herself. "Frak, Felix, you're such a lightweight."
"Doesn't change the facts," Felix said.
Dee made a decision. "I don't believe you," she said. "I really need to see this for myself."
Felix got to his feet, wobbling as he did so. "All right," he said. "I think he said he'd be headed to the rec room after his shift. Can I tear you away from waiting for your husband long enough to find him?"
Dee was much steadier on her feet. "Let's go," she said.
***
They found Hoshi in the rec room, playing Triad with a few of the Pegasus guys, laughing uproariously over some joke.
"So then," Narcho said, waving his hands demonstratively, "I come in to find the two of them half-naked, using a towel as a tent, and with a chair, and a diagram attached to a clipboard. So, I picked up the clipboard, and she ordered me to start taking notes!"
Stinger was laughing so hard that he had tears running down his face, and Hoshi was doubled over. Dee and Felix exchanged confused glances and then shrugged. Timmins finally noticed the two of them standing there and thudded Hoshi on the arm. He looked up, wiping his face.
"Oh, hey," he said, his eyes softening as he took in Felix. He glanced at Dee and smiled. "Hey, Dee," he said. "What's going on?"
"Felix says you have tattoos," Dee said bluntly. "I don't believe him."
"Felix says, huh?" Stinger demanded. He turned his attention to Felix. "And how would you know, Gaeta?"
Felix looked a lot more controlled around other people. Dee was impressed that he could fake any level of sobriety at the moment. "X-ray vision," he said sarcastically. "How do you think I know?"
Hoshi reached out and wrapped an arm around Felix's waist, pulling him down into his lap. "Do I even want to know what you two were talking about that the subject of tattoos came up?" he asked Felix.
"Ah! No! Virgin ears!" Narcho shouted, clapping his hands over his ears.
"After the story you just told?" Stinger laughed. His own eyes fixed on Dee speculatively, and Dee half-blushed, half thrust her breasts forward a little, inviting him to look. Not that she'd ever cheat on Lee, but damn it, Lee could stand to be reminded that she was an attractive woman every now and then.
"You guys want to join us?" Timmins asked. He glanced at Narcho. "Unless Narcho here is going to be overwhelmed by bridge bunny cooties."
"Four of you at the table at once is pushing it," Narcho admitted. "It's gonna cost you." Dee extended the bottle she and Felix had been sharing. "All right," Narcho sighed, taking it. "You are worthy."
"Oh, thanks," Dee said sarcastically. Felix was still snuggled on Hoshi's lap, proof that he was already smashed if he was being that affectionate in front of people. Not that Hoshi was any better, running his hand up Felix's neck and into his curls, tracing his ears.
"Enough," Stinger said, looking as repulsed as Dee felt. "If you guys are going to play, play. Don't just crawl all over each other."
"We aren't," Felix said primly, although he removed himself from Hoshi's lap and sat in a chair. "We're being models of decorum and discretion."
"Well, yeah," Narcho said, "for the Galactica."
Dee whacked him. "We are perfectly capable of copporting- capporting-"
"Cavorting," Timmins supplied.
"Consorting ourselves with decorum," Dee said indignantly, and then hiccuped.
"Which is why you're talking about Hoshi naked," Narcho pointed out.
"Precisely," Dee said, and hiccuped again. "At least Felix wasn't showing me pictures."
"Only because I don't have any," Felix said mournfully.
Timmins looked at Hoshi and shuddered. "I, for one, find that rather comforting," he said. "No offense, but if there are naked pictures of you going around, I really don't want to see them." He looked at Dee. "However, if you've got any, hand them over now, please."
"So say we all," Stinger agreed, clinking his glass against Timmins's.
"I've only got them if Narcho's got them," Dee said.
"Oh, for frak's sake, are we going to play or not?" Narcho asked, turning surprising--ly red and busying himself by shuffling the cards. "I'll deal."
Timmins groaned. "No more Triad," he begged. "Please. That's all we do anymore."
"Game's not Triad," Narcho informed them. "It's Dirty Cheatin' Hearts."
"Yes," Stinger hissed gleefully.
"Dirty Cheatin' Hearts?" Dee asked. "I've heard of Hearts, but not-"
"It's like Hearts," Hoshi explained. "You'll catch on real quick." He fanned his hand out and smirked, and then pushed forward his cubits. "Let's go."
Hearts wasn't a complicated game, even with a double deck where the cards could cancel out. Dee was feeling like she was on firm enough ground, but that was until Narcho tossed a heart out way too early.
"Hey, wait!" she protested. "Hearts haven't been broken yet!"
"That's what makes it dirty," Narcho said.
"Really?" Felix asked, disappointed. "That's all?"
Hoshi laughed, draping an arm over his shoulders. "That's all, baby," he said, nuzzling Felix. Dee was about to puke when she noticed his eyes were open, and that Hoshi was looking into Felix's hand.
"Wait a minute…" she began, but Stinger kicked her under the table and held a finger up to his lips, and then winked. And Dee began to catch on to the "cheatin'" part as well.
It wasn't that the Pegasus guys cheated, Dee realized after a hand. It was that they cheated so blatantly. There were code words and bad puns to get people to cancel each other out, alliances were formed and destroyed in a matter of turns, but the real clincher was when Stinger got up to use the head and Hoshi, Narcho, and Timmins immediately confiscated his cards.
"What do you think you’re doing?" Felix demanded, shocked.
"Doctoring his hand," Hoshi explained, like it was the most natural and obvious thing in the world.
"Give him all reds!" Narcho crowed. "Make it impossible for him to cancel!"
Timmins was laughing as everyone donated their worst cards. "But he'll know," Dee pointed out.
"I'll know what?" Stinger asked as Timmins slammed the hand back on the table and pretended innocence. He stared at it, and then groaned. "I left my cards here, didn't I? Frak." He picked them up and looked at his new hand. "You frakkers…" he growled, even as everyone laughed. "I'm not betting cubits on this."
"You can't fold," Narcho said. "Not in Hearts."
"No, but I can change the rules. Article of clothing."
"Now we're talking!" Hoshi said gleefully, but Dee's eyes narrowed.
"An article of clothing?" she asked suspiciously.
"I've only got so many frakking cubits left," Stinger said. "If you lot think I'm blowing them on this hand…"
"Well," Dee said, her eyes roaming over Stinger's admittedly very nice chest, "can't say I'm gonna complain."
And so it went, with Stinger taking almost every trick. The hilarity was almost reaching new levels when Felix, consummate card-counter, finally caught on.
"Oh, frak, no," he said. "Someone take a trick."
"What? Why?" Hoshi asked, and then his eyes widened as well. His lips moved as he did some fast calculations. "Oh, frak…"
Stinger's grin became far more smug. "Just keep playing, boys," he said.
"What?" Narcho asked. "I don't get it."
Dee groaned. She might not count cards, but she wasn't a bridge bunny for nothing. "He's gonna shoot the moon."
"In a double deck game?" Narcho said. "No way."
"He is," Hoshi sighed. "We did a little too good a job."
The rest of the hand played out in the inevitable manner, with Stinger's grin widening and everyone else groaning as the tricks with points went to him. In the end, he'd managed to collect all the points.
"All right," he said, sitting back and crossing his arms. "Let's see the clothing start falling."
Dee sighed and shrugged off her BDU jacket, and Timmins did the same. Felix and Hoshi exchanged glances and took off their duty blues jackets, confirming that he indeed did have a tattoo on the bicep. Narcho, never a fan of conformity, stood up and removed his pants.
"What?" he asked. "For one, I'm sitting. My legs are under a table. And for two…" he leered, "I've got nothing to be ashamed of. I'll bet I'm bigger than-"
"Oh no," Dee interrupted. "No dick measuring contents." She looked around at the five of them. "I don't even want to know who would win."
"Louis," Felix suggested. Hoshi turned red, but the smugness was undeniable as well.
"I think I might be with Dee here," Stinger said as he dealt. "I'm really not sure I want any more details."
Felix shrugged. "Let's just say I haven't been up close and personal with anyone larger." Dee thought Hoshi's head might explode from the amount of blood that rushed to it.
"Wait a minute," Narcho said interestedly. "Does this mean that Hoshi's hung better than Baltar?"
Felix rearranged his cards. "I haven't seen you all in the showers," he said, "but I'm willing to venture you're all hung better than our esteemed former President."
"No way," Timmins said, although Dee was fairly certain the shock was coming from Felix actually confirming he had slept with Baltar, not the idea of Baltar not being overly endowed. Gods knew she was shocked enough herself. "You're frakking kidding me."
"Starbuck," Felix shouted above the general rabble, not looking up from his cards. "Who's got the smallest dick you've ever seen?"
"That would be you, Gaeta," Starbuck shouted back.
Felix made a rude gesture in her direction over his head. "You are so not my type," he informed her. "Come on. Who's the smallest?"
Starbuck snorted. "Gaius Baltar."
"See?" Felix said. "Starbuck and I actually agree on something. I rest my case."
"All right," Timmins said, "you win."
"Actually," Stinger said, playing his last card, "I think you're about to lose. Count em up, people."
Two hands later, Dee, Timmins, and Hoshi had lost their tanks, Narcho had surrendered his underwear but still wore his duty blues jacket, Felix was wearing tanks and boxers, and Stinger was sitting fully clothed.
"This is so wrong." Starbuck had wandered over now that Gaeta had attracted her attention.
"What's wrong?" Hoshi asked.
"You guys are bridge bunnies," Starbuck said with derision, picking up their bottle and taking a deep drink. "Don't you frakkers count cards like anything? And a Viper jock is beating you?"
"Actually," Hoshi said, rearranging his cards, "we're just exhibitionists." He reached up and took the cigarette she was smoking from her mouth, took a deep drag, and then put it back between her lips. Starbuck looked down at him in shock. "Stick around and you'll get a real show."
"Maybe I'm underestimating bridge bunnies," she said. "Maybe I should have a seat." She settled on Hoshi's lap.
Hoshi put a hand on her hip and pushed her back up. "I can grab you a chair, if you want," he said. He leaned over, grabbed one, and as he pulled it in, stopped to kiss Felix, open mouthed and messy.
Starbuck burst into laughter.
"Oh frak me," she said between gasps. "You're with Gaeta here? Yeah, you're most definitely not my type. I like someone with a little life in the sack." She sat in the chair that Hoshi had pulled over. "Bridge bunnies losing a strip poker," she said again. "Really, someone should get a camera. This is an occasion that needs to be documented."
"It's not strip poker," Noel said, still unconcerned about the fact he was naked below the waist. "It's strip Dirty Cheatin' Hearts."
"Dirty Cheatin' Hearts?" Starbuck asked confusedly, and six evil grins were her response.
***
By the time someone got a camera, Dee had managed to confirm that all of the Pegasus guys had the same Pegasus tattoos on their shoulders. And the fact that the tiger tattoo that she had on her hip matched the one Felix had on his chest was cause for interested speculation, and a few derogatory remarks from Starbuck that Dee turned off extremely quickly with a single mention of Lee. However, the dragon tattoo on Hoshi never appeared, which either meant Felix was lying, or the tattoo was somewhere under the boxers he'd managed to keep on- or under his left sock. Dee decided she'd just believe Felix rather than looking for validation.
She managed to get her tanks back on right as Slipshot was dragged in. Narcho, however, was leaning back in his chair, fully naked except for his socks. Starbuck had only lost her jacket, which wasn't a surprise, and Stinger was only barefoot.
"I was told there would be more naked men," Slipshot complained. But she snapped a picture of Narcho anyway. Narcho gave her two thumbs- and one other portion of his anatomy- up. "That oughta sell well on the black market," she said.
"I can sign them," Narcho offered. "Even give it the lipstick kiss."
"She wants to make money off them, Narcho," Starbuck laughed. She handed Slipshot the bottle. "Here. You're gonna need this."
"You're damn right," Slipshot said, looking at the offerings before her. She took a deep swig. "They're drunk, right?" she said, pointing to Hoshi and Felix, who were sitting in their underwear and laughing at something, Hoshi's hand constantly landing on Felix's bare knee.
"Off their asses," Dee confirmed.
"Good." Slipshot snapped another picture. "Blackmail's good for something."
The camera kind of fell flat, Dee thought. To be honest, it really wasn't that funny out of context- or she suspected it wouldn't be when she sobered up. But Slipshot looked like she'd needed the break anyway, and she hung around, talking and laughing with the other pilots.
Dee never remembered the rest of that evening. She'd had far too much to drink, and the adrenaline drained from her sometime around then, leaving her loopy and tired. Eventually, she wound down and made her way back to her quarters.
When she left, she saw Felix and Hoshi, fully dressed, sitting on the floor off in a corner. Felix was sitting between Hoshi's legs, Hoshi's arms wrapped around him as he kissed his cheek. As Dee left, she thought she saw a flash go off.
***
The picture hung on the wall, and he touched gently. They looked so young… so ridiculously young and happy. It was one of his favorite pictures, and in a way it hurt to look at it now, now that Felix was dead.
There was a noise, and someone came up behind him. "It's funny, isn't it?" he asked the intruder. "It's such a good picture, and I… I never even knew how it was taken."
"With a camera," his father said. "That's the usual method."
"That’s not what I meant. I asked Felix once, but… he didn't remember. He claimed Louis didn't, either. It's just… there's this picture, and it's the two of them, and now there's no one alive to remember what that moment was."
"You know what that moment was- it's right there on their faces. It's love."
Gabriel sighed. "I know." Jesse came around to his side to look at the picture with him. "I'm going to miss him so much," he told his father.
"I know," Jesse said. His hair was white now, even his beard. Gabriel wondered if it had been that way for long, or if it was only these past few months. "But we knew that once Louis went, Felix wouldn't be far behind. He was only hanging on to see his namesake." He smiled at the little bundle that Gabriel was holding and touched the baby's head.
"That's the solace I've got," Gabriel said. "They're together, and he met little Felix." He kissed his son's head gently.
"There's more solace than that," Jesse said. "They had a long life together- thirty two years. They had you and your sister, they had friends, they had their jobs, they had the blessings of your other children, they had this home. They were happy, Gabriel. Happier than they once thought they'd ever have a chance of being. And you'll see them again some day, on the other side."
"Yeah. How's Mom doing?"
A little of the light and peace dimmed from his father's face. "It's hard on her," he admitted. "I think she'll be the next to go. And God willing, I'll follow her shortly." He noticed Gabriel's shudder. "It's all right, son. It's God's plan that life happens this way."
"I know," Gabriel said. "It's just… there are some people you wish could live forever."
"I know." Jesse's hand was on his back. "Come on," he said. "The funeral is about to start. It's time to say goodbye."
Gabriel nodded. But as he turned, something caught his eye. "I'll be right there, Dad," he said. Jesse nodded and left.
Gabriel knew this cabin, it was a second home to him. He knew every nook and cranny, he sometimes felt like he'd known every facet of his godfathers' lives. But he'd never seen the woman that emerged from the corner, coming to look at the picture. She was young, with smooth dark skin and black hair, and beautiful green eyes.
"Are you real?" he asked her.
She smiled at him. "Very." She stood next to Gabriel, and he suddenly realized exactly what she was.
"You're an angel."
"A simplification," she said, but she didn't deny it.
"What… why are you here?" he asked.
She didn’t answer at first, she just studied his face. Then her eyes dropped to the baby. "May I?" His wife would kill him if she knew, but Gabriel handed little Felix over. The angel turned back the blanket and studied his little face. "He's beautiful," she said.
"Thank you."
She bent and kissed Felix's forehead, whispering something too softly for Gabriel to hear. Then she handed the baby back. "I was there, you know."
"What?"
"The night that picture was taken. I was there."
"I imagine you were."
She laughed. "Not like that." She glanced at the clock. "Come on. We have a few minutes yet. Sit down, and I'll tell you the story."