Out of the Black- Chapter 4/9
Title: Out of the Black
Rating: PG
Chapter: 4/9
Characters in order of Appearance: Lee, Roslin, Adama, Kara, Jayne, Tyrol, Kaylee, Anders
Words this chapter: ~3310
Lee lay in bed, with his alarm clock blaring away for a good five minutes before he could be bothered to roll over and switch it off. Shoving the covers away, he pushed himself to his feet and shuffled over to the window. Drawing the curtains open, the apartment glowed gold with early morning sunlight, and the sounds of the small shuttles buzzing through the air flooded him.
He’d never lived on his own for more than a few weeks before. In his youth, he was home with his mother and his brother; from there he went into college where his boisterous roommates kept life energized and frantic. After college he joined the military; from basic training through flight school, his fellow soldiers constantly surrounded him; no, he’d never truly been alone in his life. Then here he was, on a planet he’d never known existed, in an apartment in a city, where no one knew of the Colonies of Kobol, the Cylon holocaust, all the billions of lives lost, or the struggles of the survivors. It was so strange to get up in the morning without hearing the voices of those near and dear to you.
Routine was good. It kept order, kept things in their place, and kept him from realizing just how lost he felt. He started every day with a round of pushups and sit-ups, and hit the shower. After a wash and a shave, he’d go to the small corner kitchen and heat up the coffee left over from whenever he had actually made it. By nine thirty-four on any weekday morning, he was in a clean, pressed suit and on his way to the large office building in the center of the city where he worked now as a law clerk.
For the first few months on Ariel, as he walked to work, he was positive he’d seen Brendan Costanza on the streets, just a glimpse of a face in the crowd; the man even had a child with him, about two years old. It only took a few encounters to realize it was someone who just looked like him. Not that he’d had any kind of strong connection to Costanza, just this small hope that out of this huge galaxy, he would have the pleasure of seeing a fellow former pilot. Or any other Colonials, really. On one occasion, he could have sworn he’d seen Romo Lampkin brush past him as he walked.
It wasn’t until he was actually at work that he finally caught sight of the calendar. He was surprised it had even slipped his mind, because there was today circled in bright red marker on his desk, and the evening was not coming soon enough. Every second became a minute, every minute an hour. He’d sort through his files, but wasn’t quite aware of just what the words on the pages were.
It would have been better if he had a meeting with a client, or with his boss, or if he got some sudden call that a prominent client had gotten him or herself arrested and were in immediate need of legal counsel. The firm rarely had cases like that. In some small way, he yearned for those five days, where every 33 minutes they had to jump for their lives. A time when the decisions made each second meant life or death; every moment alive meant something, was cherished.
Between now and the time the office closed, fourteen jumps would have been made.
At six o’clock, rather than taking his usual route back home, Lee Adama made his way towards the station to get a shuttle to the other side of Ariel City.
---
“It’s just not quite long enough to do anything with it,” Laura said with a frown as she smoothed her hair in several different directions, trying to force it to cooperate. Of course one can’t threaten to airlock one’s own hair to coerce it into compliance. She’d kept her hair long for years and just could not adjust to this transition.
It had been Dr. Tam that insisted upon Inara bringing the former president to Ariel. He could no longer provide medical services, but he knew of several brilliant doctors on the planet, and would not entrust her health care to anyone else. Months of grueling treatment finally paid off when her doctor finally announced her cancer to be in complete remission. Her hair was had grown back considerably, about a shade redder than it had been before.
Quietly, Bill withdrew his nose from his book and set it aside on the table beside his chair. He pulled himself out of the chair and crossed to where Laura stood in front of the mirror, angrily tousling her hair to and fro. “You look beautiful,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.
She eyed him with skeptical fondness, “You’re just saying that.”
He gave a full-bellied laugh and kissed her on the cheek.
Most of the neighbors knew them as the old married couple in 1142; they would go out on evenings and weekends to the museums and the theatre, or just to the park to watch the sunsets together; no one who saw them in passing would ever believe it if you told them she used to be President and he was the Admiral of a fleet of refugees. They never brought their secrets outside of the apartment. That was the reason Bill rarely left the apartment without her.
He was supposed to have retired three years ago; that’s what he’d thought when they first moved into their apartment in Ariel City. It was an excuse; others included how he had to take care of things around the apartment while Laura was going through treatment and that there just weren’t any jobs to be found. When Laura was finally on the mend, she took a job teaching at a local school, pulling in enough credits to support them both.
She relaxed against his touch, “Did you ever once think… dream… dread… that this is where we’d be?”
Before the conversation could go further, they were cut short by the electronic tone of someone ringing at the door. The medium-sized screen, which had been broadcasting Alliance-filtered news and commercials, switched over to show Lee Adama standing patiently in the doorway. Bill gave Laura another quick kiss on the cheek before going to answer the door.
“Hi, Dad,” Lee said. It wasn’t that Lee never visited them. Quite the contrary, he usually came a few times a month; they were family after all.
“Hello, Son.” Bill pulled him into an embrace before Lee entered 1142, and he closed the door behind him.
There was something about this day that made this surreal domestic life even more surreal.
“Good evening, Laura.” Madam President. Lee said, “You look lovely today.”
She tsked and adjusted the light silk jacket she wore. “You are quite the kiss up,” Captain Apollo, “Just like your father.”
“Something smells good,” he commented, setting his briefcase on the coffee table.
“Mmm.” Laura headed towards the kitchen, “Bill’s been cooking all day.”
Lee opened his briefcase and withdrew a bottle of dark red liquor. “I hope you don’t mind, I brought this. It’s…” he took a deep breath. “It’s four years old, not the most aged wine, but I thought it might be appropriate. Do you-” Bill had already brought out three wine glasses and set them out on the table. Lee smiled. “Apparently you do.”
“May I do the honors?” Bill asked as fetched an old-fashioned corkscrew from the kitchen. The bottle of wine opened with a soft pop as the cork released. He lifted the bottle filling each of the three glasses to three-quarters full before setting the bottle back down on the table. Lee and Laura each took a glass following his lead.
“Four years ago,” Lee began. “Four years ago we lost the colonies. Four years ago we began to find the way to Earth. Three years ago we settled on New Caprica, and two years ago we escaped. Exactly one year ago today we…” His voice trailed off.
“We left the one home we all knew hidden in a valley on a moon, and tried to start a new life,” Laura finished for him.
After a brief pause, Bill spoke, “To Galactica.”
“To Galactica,” they echoed, and they all drank.
Adama looked into his half-emptied glass, voice barely above a whisper. “So say we all.”
Lee considered the apartment as he sipped his wine. “Do you think we’ll ever stop hiding?” he asked. “One year… and I haven’t heard from anyone. Kara, Helo,” he paused, “Dee… Gods, I think at this point I’d be happy to hear from Gaius Baltar.” The thought prompted him to finish off the glass of wine.
“Perhaps, but now it’s still too soon.” Bill took up residence in his chair once again, missing the knowing look that Laura cast his way. “Especially for us, security is so tight on this planet, we’re lucky we were able to get here in the first place. I don’t want to know what would happen if the Alliance decided to round us all up. It’s the last thing any of us need.”
Lee picked up the bottle and poured himself another glass, examining it as though examining a crystal ball. “I know. I just… it’s like losing family.” He allowed himself another sip. “I wonder how the others are celebrating.”
---
Kara slammed the shot glass against the bar, feeling the burn of cheap alcohol tear down her throat. That was number five. Jayne beside her was only on shot number four. “Come on, lightweight!” she heckled.
From a table in the corner of the Maidenhead bar, Galen and Kaylee watched in something akin to horror, certain that this night was going to end in blood and tears. Or at least blood.
Serenity had docked on Beaumonde for a twofold purpose. One, Mal’s crew had a job that needed doing. Two, it gave Tyrol the chance to see Kara and Anders for the anniversary of the day they left Galactica. They met at the spaceport and Kara almost didn’t recognize him. Tyrol had trimmed down a bit, but had let his hair grow out considerably as well; to him, Kara and Anders looked exactly as they had when they parted after his announcement that he was staying aboard Serenity. He did notice, however, a look in Kara’s eyes. He wouldn’t call it a crazy look, but perhaps the look of someone cooped up just a bit too long.
Anders had an evening shift at the factory where he worked; it wasn’t as though it was an actual holiday that he could use as an excuse to get out. Nevertheless, Kara and Tyrol went out to share a round of drinks, accompanied by Kaylee, who seemed to be glued to him at the hip (amazing how not that long ago they’d been galaxies apart; it seemed since they found each other, they couldn’t stand to have too much distance between them), and Jayne, who was always up for a good round of drinks.
The trouble started during a drunken game of pool after the bartender had the cut the heavy drinkers off. Some guy thought it would be a brilliant idea to grab Kara’s ass, and the first fist to the jaw was not lesson enough. After a few more shots on the pool table, a technical malfunction caused the holographic balls to disappear from play, she slammed the pool cue against the table with an angry growl. That’s when Mr. Grabby decided to make his second attempt at copping a feel.
“You gorram motherfrakker!” she screamed, seizing the front of his shirt and sending him sailing through the air, on a direct collision course with an occupied table. The stunned drinkers were quick to retaliate, but it was Jayne who stepped in, jabbing at one with a pool cue.
The bloodbath portion of the evening had begun.
---
She refused to open her eyes; from the way everything ached, Kara knew that this hangover was going to be a particular bitch. She felt the dull ache of alcohol-drenched muscles, the churning of her stomach and a fantastic throbbing on the side of her head on top of the pounding booze-induced headache.
She felt her body shift as someone else sat down on the bed, and she felt the bittersweet relief of an icepack being pressed against the bruise that had taken up residence on her head. Rather than speak words at Sam, she simply made a grunting noise to indicate that she was awake.
“And good morning to you too,” he replied. Kara responded with some other incoherent noise. “Do you know how not fun it is to come home from work to an empty house, only to have your knocked-out wife carried in ten minutes later?”
Cracking her eyes open, she realized Sam had left the lights off- very thoughtful of him. “Is that what happened? It was a tossup between black out and concussion for a minute there,” she muttered quietly with a smirk resting on her lips.
“Dammit, Kara!” he said, voice clipped trying not to yell around her, but for emphasis he threw himself to his feet. “This isn’t funny! What the hell were you thinking?”
She somehow managed to get herself into a sitting position. “I don’t remember doing much thinking, actually. Just a lot of ducking and punching.”
Anders just shook his head. “I thought you said you were going to ease up on the drinking.”
Kara gave a shrug of her shoulders. “We were celebrating… mourning… whatever you want to call it. One year, remember?”
“Then what do you call last week? And the week before? Do you need me to count the number of bars you’ve gotten thrown out of? Oh, and don’t even get me started on how about how you can’t hold a steady job. You just spend all of your time-”
“Just stop.” It wasn’t a shout; it wasn’t even an angry sound of any kind. More like a quiet plea. “I don’t want to have this fight again. You know what it means to me.” She said, “I just… I’m not cut out for this kind of life. Sammy, I just… I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
With a sigh, he took a seat next to her on the bed. “I know… it’s hard. It’s hard for me, too. But things aren’t so bad. We’ve got a decent living… we’ve got each other.” He ran his fingers through her chin length hair and gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead. “And we have a game this afternoon.” He smiled. He got to his feet once more. “I’ve got some errands to run but the team’s meeting at the stadium at 4 for some pre-game practice.”
The promise of a little healthy competition helped her start to break through the hangover haze. “I think, with a little coffee, I’ll be as good as new.”
“That’s my girl.” He smiled. “Just so you know, Tyrol and Kaylee crashed on the couch last night, and Jayne is probably still sleeping off his hangover in the bathtub.” Kara grimaced, Anders smirked, and with that he was gone.
It was about a full hour later, before Kara finally dragged herself out of bed and changed out of her clothes, which still reeked of blood, sweat, and spilt alcohol from the night before. Pulling on a pair of cargo pants and a grey tank top, she made her way out into the living room where the dull noise of the morning news and the smell of fresh coffee from the kitchen wafted gently around her.
“Hope you don’t mind,” Tyrol said as she walked into the kitchen. He took a mug from the cabinet and poured her a cup.
“Mind?” she replied. “I could kiss you right now, but the way I feel I think Kaylee’d knock me out for trying, no problem.” She clutched the mug between her hands and drank deep the hot liquid.
“Not like you need another beatin’ upside the head after last night,” Kaylee said from her seat at the small kitchen table, where she munched contently on a strawberry she’d stolen from the fridge.
Kara shuffled towards the table and slumped into the chair across from her, “Yeah, what exactly happened? I’m sort of fuzzy on the details.”
“Five minutes into the bar fight, you took a pool cue to the head.” Tyrol stated flatly as he poured himself another cup of coffee.
“Only five minutes?” She grimaced. “I’ve lost my edge. It’s not like we have the dances anymore.”
“Dances?” Kaylee asked, her eyes alight clearly with thoughts of elegance and fluffy dresses.
Tyrol shook his head, as he joined the ladies at the table. “It was code for boxing matches. Rank didn’t matter; if you had a problem with someone, you’d call them out and kicked their frakking ass.”
“Nothing like a little physical therapy.” Kara took another sip from her mug, before the ghost of memory blazed through her mind and she broke into a grin. “Remember the time the Old Man told you to get your ‘fat, lazy ass,’ into the ring?”
“Beat him to a pulp,” Tyrol beamed in his mid-morning, caffeine-fueled haze.
Kara shook her head, “We should’ve known you were a Cylon right then and there.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair staring up at the ceilings. “Good times.” She gave a bemused frown as she heard her own words; the expression seemed to be contagious as it appeared on Chief’s face as well.
“Hey things ain’t so bad here, are they?” Kaylee asked, mainly to Tyrol who had no choice but to kiss her and assure that they were solid.
“You are the best part of this ‘verse,” he told her. “It’s just… four years ago, we were getting ready to see Galactica decommissioned, maybe take some time to spend with our families before taking on a new assignment. Planets, cities, people. All gone now. It’s hard.”
“Well ya’ll are here, and ya’ll are safe,” she said smiling. “That ought be the most impor’nt thing.”
“Oh,” Kara’s brain finally flicked on, “I forgot to tell you. Sam and I’ve been playing, well it’s not quite pyramid, it’s kinda… well it’s not important, but we made the city team a few months ago and we have a game this afternoon, and you guys… and Jayne, if he wakes up, are welcome to come.”
“Shiny!” Kaylee remarked.
“Tightpants gave us the week on planet, unless things go south. They should be done with… well with whatever they’re doing.” Tyrol said before turning to Kaylee, “Do you know what they’re doing?”
“Crime,” she replied nonchalantly. “So, I di’n’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you and Sam havin’ a fight ‘bout something this morning.”
With a gulp Kara downed the remainder of her coffee. “Actually, that was something I wanted to talk to you guys about. I have a little… project going. Sam isn’t really thrilled about it, but it’s just…” She pensively stroked the side of her nose with her thumb as she talked. “Something I really need. For myself. And maybe it’s selfish, I don’t actually care that much. But the thing is I need the help of a couple good mechanics. Then I thought the only mechanics I knew were you guys, and I thought I’d settle.” She said with a grin.
“Anythin’ you need doin’, Galen and I will take care of it for ya.” Kaylee beamed, turning to give Tyrol a high five. As their hands met their fingers laced.
Kara stared forlornly into her empty mug. Yup. The hangover was going to be a bitch.
Rating: PG
Chapter: 4/9
Characters in order of Appearance: Lee, Roslin, Adama, Kara, Jayne, Tyrol, Kaylee, Anders
Words this chapter: ~3310
Lee lay in bed, with his alarm clock blaring away for a good five minutes before he could be bothered to roll over and switch it off. Shoving the covers away, he pushed himself to his feet and shuffled over to the window. Drawing the curtains open, the apartment glowed gold with early morning sunlight, and the sounds of the small shuttles buzzing through the air flooded him.
He’d never lived on his own for more than a few weeks before. In his youth, he was home with his mother and his brother; from there he went into college where his boisterous roommates kept life energized and frantic. After college he joined the military; from basic training through flight school, his fellow soldiers constantly surrounded him; no, he’d never truly been alone in his life. Then here he was, on a planet he’d never known existed, in an apartment in a city, where no one knew of the Colonies of Kobol, the Cylon holocaust, all the billions of lives lost, or the struggles of the survivors. It was so strange to get up in the morning without hearing the voices of those near and dear to you.
Routine was good. It kept order, kept things in their place, and kept him from realizing just how lost he felt. He started every day with a round of pushups and sit-ups, and hit the shower. After a wash and a shave, he’d go to the small corner kitchen and heat up the coffee left over from whenever he had actually made it. By nine thirty-four on any weekday morning, he was in a clean, pressed suit and on his way to the large office building in the center of the city where he worked now as a law clerk.
For the first few months on Ariel, as he walked to work, he was positive he’d seen Brendan Costanza on the streets, just a glimpse of a face in the crowd; the man even had a child with him, about two years old. It only took a few encounters to realize it was someone who just looked like him. Not that he’d had any kind of strong connection to Costanza, just this small hope that out of this huge galaxy, he would have the pleasure of seeing a fellow former pilot. Or any other Colonials, really. On one occasion, he could have sworn he’d seen Romo Lampkin brush past him as he walked.
It wasn’t until he was actually at work that he finally caught sight of the calendar. He was surprised it had even slipped his mind, because there was today circled in bright red marker on his desk, and the evening was not coming soon enough. Every second became a minute, every minute an hour. He’d sort through his files, but wasn’t quite aware of just what the words on the pages were.
It would have been better if he had a meeting with a client, or with his boss, or if he got some sudden call that a prominent client had gotten him or herself arrested and were in immediate need of legal counsel. The firm rarely had cases like that. In some small way, he yearned for those five days, where every 33 minutes they had to jump for their lives. A time when the decisions made each second meant life or death; every moment alive meant something, was cherished.
Between now and the time the office closed, fourteen jumps would have been made.
At six o’clock, rather than taking his usual route back home, Lee Adama made his way towards the station to get a shuttle to the other side of Ariel City.
---
“It’s just not quite long enough to do anything with it,” Laura said with a frown as she smoothed her hair in several different directions, trying to force it to cooperate. Of course one can’t threaten to airlock one’s own hair to coerce it into compliance. She’d kept her hair long for years and just could not adjust to this transition.
It had been Dr. Tam that insisted upon Inara bringing the former president to Ariel. He could no longer provide medical services, but he knew of several brilliant doctors on the planet, and would not entrust her health care to anyone else. Months of grueling treatment finally paid off when her doctor finally announced her cancer to be in complete remission. Her hair was had grown back considerably, about a shade redder than it had been before.
Quietly, Bill withdrew his nose from his book and set it aside on the table beside his chair. He pulled himself out of the chair and crossed to where Laura stood in front of the mirror, angrily tousling her hair to and fro. “You look beautiful,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.
She eyed him with skeptical fondness, “You’re just saying that.”
He gave a full-bellied laugh and kissed her on the cheek.
Most of the neighbors knew them as the old married couple in 1142; they would go out on evenings and weekends to the museums and the theatre, or just to the park to watch the sunsets together; no one who saw them in passing would ever believe it if you told them she used to be President and he was the Admiral of a fleet of refugees. They never brought their secrets outside of the apartment. That was the reason Bill rarely left the apartment without her.
He was supposed to have retired three years ago; that’s what he’d thought when they first moved into their apartment in Ariel City. It was an excuse; others included how he had to take care of things around the apartment while Laura was going through treatment and that there just weren’t any jobs to be found. When Laura was finally on the mend, she took a job teaching at a local school, pulling in enough credits to support them both.
She relaxed against his touch, “Did you ever once think… dream… dread… that this is where we’d be?”
Before the conversation could go further, they were cut short by the electronic tone of someone ringing at the door. The medium-sized screen, which had been broadcasting Alliance-filtered news and commercials, switched over to show Lee Adama standing patiently in the doorway. Bill gave Laura another quick kiss on the cheek before going to answer the door.
“Hi, Dad,” Lee said. It wasn’t that Lee never visited them. Quite the contrary, he usually came a few times a month; they were family after all.
“Hello, Son.” Bill pulled him into an embrace before Lee entered 1142, and he closed the door behind him.
There was something about this day that made this surreal domestic life even more surreal.
“Good evening, Laura.” Madam President. Lee said, “You look lovely today.”
She tsked and adjusted the light silk jacket she wore. “You are quite the kiss up,” Captain Apollo, “Just like your father.”
“Something smells good,” he commented, setting his briefcase on the coffee table.
“Mmm.” Laura headed towards the kitchen, “Bill’s been cooking all day.”
Lee opened his briefcase and withdrew a bottle of dark red liquor. “I hope you don’t mind, I brought this. It’s…” he took a deep breath. “It’s four years old, not the most aged wine, but I thought it might be appropriate. Do you-” Bill had already brought out three wine glasses and set them out on the table. Lee smiled. “Apparently you do.”
“May I do the honors?” Bill asked as fetched an old-fashioned corkscrew from the kitchen. The bottle of wine opened with a soft pop as the cork released. He lifted the bottle filling each of the three glasses to three-quarters full before setting the bottle back down on the table. Lee and Laura each took a glass following his lead.
“Four years ago,” Lee began. “Four years ago we lost the colonies. Four years ago we began to find the way to Earth. Three years ago we settled on New Caprica, and two years ago we escaped. Exactly one year ago today we…” His voice trailed off.
“We left the one home we all knew hidden in a valley on a moon, and tried to start a new life,” Laura finished for him.
After a brief pause, Bill spoke, “To Galactica.”
“To Galactica,” they echoed, and they all drank.
Adama looked into his half-emptied glass, voice barely above a whisper. “So say we all.”
Lee considered the apartment as he sipped his wine. “Do you think we’ll ever stop hiding?” he asked. “One year… and I haven’t heard from anyone. Kara, Helo,” he paused, “Dee… Gods, I think at this point I’d be happy to hear from Gaius Baltar.” The thought prompted him to finish off the glass of wine.
“Perhaps, but now it’s still too soon.” Bill took up residence in his chair once again, missing the knowing look that Laura cast his way. “Especially for us, security is so tight on this planet, we’re lucky we were able to get here in the first place. I don’t want to know what would happen if the Alliance decided to round us all up. It’s the last thing any of us need.”
Lee picked up the bottle and poured himself another glass, examining it as though examining a crystal ball. “I know. I just… it’s like losing family.” He allowed himself another sip. “I wonder how the others are celebrating.”
---
Kara slammed the shot glass against the bar, feeling the burn of cheap alcohol tear down her throat. That was number five. Jayne beside her was only on shot number four. “Come on, lightweight!” she heckled.
From a table in the corner of the Maidenhead bar, Galen and Kaylee watched in something akin to horror, certain that this night was going to end in blood and tears. Or at least blood.
Serenity had docked on Beaumonde for a twofold purpose. One, Mal’s crew had a job that needed doing. Two, it gave Tyrol the chance to see Kara and Anders for the anniversary of the day they left Galactica. They met at the spaceport and Kara almost didn’t recognize him. Tyrol had trimmed down a bit, but had let his hair grow out considerably as well; to him, Kara and Anders looked exactly as they had when they parted after his announcement that he was staying aboard Serenity. He did notice, however, a look in Kara’s eyes. He wouldn’t call it a crazy look, but perhaps the look of someone cooped up just a bit too long.
Anders had an evening shift at the factory where he worked; it wasn’t as though it was an actual holiday that he could use as an excuse to get out. Nevertheless, Kara and Tyrol went out to share a round of drinks, accompanied by Kaylee, who seemed to be glued to him at the hip (amazing how not that long ago they’d been galaxies apart; it seemed since they found each other, they couldn’t stand to have too much distance between them), and Jayne, who was always up for a good round of drinks.
The trouble started during a drunken game of pool after the bartender had the cut the heavy drinkers off. Some guy thought it would be a brilliant idea to grab Kara’s ass, and the first fist to the jaw was not lesson enough. After a few more shots on the pool table, a technical malfunction caused the holographic balls to disappear from play, she slammed the pool cue against the table with an angry growl. That’s when Mr. Grabby decided to make his second attempt at copping a feel.
“You gorram motherfrakker!” she screamed, seizing the front of his shirt and sending him sailing through the air, on a direct collision course with an occupied table. The stunned drinkers were quick to retaliate, but it was Jayne who stepped in, jabbing at one with a pool cue.
The bloodbath portion of the evening had begun.
---
She refused to open her eyes; from the way everything ached, Kara knew that this hangover was going to be a particular bitch. She felt the dull ache of alcohol-drenched muscles, the churning of her stomach and a fantastic throbbing on the side of her head on top of the pounding booze-induced headache.
She felt her body shift as someone else sat down on the bed, and she felt the bittersweet relief of an icepack being pressed against the bruise that had taken up residence on her head. Rather than speak words at Sam, she simply made a grunting noise to indicate that she was awake.
“And good morning to you too,” he replied. Kara responded with some other incoherent noise. “Do you know how not fun it is to come home from work to an empty house, only to have your knocked-out wife carried in ten minutes later?”
Cracking her eyes open, she realized Sam had left the lights off- very thoughtful of him. “Is that what happened? It was a tossup between black out and concussion for a minute there,” she muttered quietly with a smirk resting on her lips.
“Dammit, Kara!” he said, voice clipped trying not to yell around her, but for emphasis he threw himself to his feet. “This isn’t funny! What the hell were you thinking?”
She somehow managed to get herself into a sitting position. “I don’t remember doing much thinking, actually. Just a lot of ducking and punching.”
Anders just shook his head. “I thought you said you were going to ease up on the drinking.”
Kara gave a shrug of her shoulders. “We were celebrating… mourning… whatever you want to call it. One year, remember?”
“Then what do you call last week? And the week before? Do you need me to count the number of bars you’ve gotten thrown out of? Oh, and don’t even get me started on how about how you can’t hold a steady job. You just spend all of your time-”
“Just stop.” It wasn’t a shout; it wasn’t even an angry sound of any kind. More like a quiet plea. “I don’t want to have this fight again. You know what it means to me.” She said, “I just… I’m not cut out for this kind of life. Sammy, I just… I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
With a sigh, he took a seat next to her on the bed. “I know… it’s hard. It’s hard for me, too. But things aren’t so bad. We’ve got a decent living… we’ve got each other.” He ran his fingers through her chin length hair and gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead. “And we have a game this afternoon.” He smiled. He got to his feet once more. “I’ve got some errands to run but the team’s meeting at the stadium at 4 for some pre-game practice.”
The promise of a little healthy competition helped her start to break through the hangover haze. “I think, with a little coffee, I’ll be as good as new.”
“That’s my girl.” He smiled. “Just so you know, Tyrol and Kaylee crashed on the couch last night, and Jayne is probably still sleeping off his hangover in the bathtub.” Kara grimaced, Anders smirked, and with that he was gone.
It was about a full hour later, before Kara finally dragged herself out of bed and changed out of her clothes, which still reeked of blood, sweat, and spilt alcohol from the night before. Pulling on a pair of cargo pants and a grey tank top, she made her way out into the living room where the dull noise of the morning news and the smell of fresh coffee from the kitchen wafted gently around her.
“Hope you don’t mind,” Tyrol said as she walked into the kitchen. He took a mug from the cabinet and poured her a cup.
“Mind?” she replied. “I could kiss you right now, but the way I feel I think Kaylee’d knock me out for trying, no problem.” She clutched the mug between her hands and drank deep the hot liquid.
“Not like you need another beatin’ upside the head after last night,” Kaylee said from her seat at the small kitchen table, where she munched contently on a strawberry she’d stolen from the fridge.
Kara shuffled towards the table and slumped into the chair across from her, “Yeah, what exactly happened? I’m sort of fuzzy on the details.”
“Five minutes into the bar fight, you took a pool cue to the head.” Tyrol stated flatly as he poured himself another cup of coffee.
“Only five minutes?” She grimaced. “I’ve lost my edge. It’s not like we have the dances anymore.”
“Dances?” Kaylee asked, her eyes alight clearly with thoughts of elegance and fluffy dresses.
Tyrol shook his head, as he joined the ladies at the table. “It was code for boxing matches. Rank didn’t matter; if you had a problem with someone, you’d call them out and kicked their frakking ass.”
“Nothing like a little physical therapy.” Kara took another sip from her mug, before the ghost of memory blazed through her mind and she broke into a grin. “Remember the time the Old Man told you to get your ‘fat, lazy ass,’ into the ring?”
“Beat him to a pulp,” Tyrol beamed in his mid-morning, caffeine-fueled haze.
Kara shook her head, “We should’ve known you were a Cylon right then and there.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair staring up at the ceilings. “Good times.” She gave a bemused frown as she heard her own words; the expression seemed to be contagious as it appeared on Chief’s face as well.
“Hey things ain’t so bad here, are they?” Kaylee asked, mainly to Tyrol who had no choice but to kiss her and assure that they were solid.
“You are the best part of this ‘verse,” he told her. “It’s just… four years ago, we were getting ready to see Galactica decommissioned, maybe take some time to spend with our families before taking on a new assignment. Planets, cities, people. All gone now. It’s hard.”
“Well ya’ll are here, and ya’ll are safe,” she said smiling. “That ought be the most impor’nt thing.”
“Oh,” Kara’s brain finally flicked on, “I forgot to tell you. Sam and I’ve been playing, well it’s not quite pyramid, it’s kinda… well it’s not important, but we made the city team a few months ago and we have a game this afternoon, and you guys… and Jayne, if he wakes up, are welcome to come.”
“Shiny!” Kaylee remarked.
“Tightpants gave us the week on planet, unless things go south. They should be done with… well with whatever they’re doing.” Tyrol said before turning to Kaylee, “Do you know what they’re doing?”
“Crime,” she replied nonchalantly. “So, I di’n’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you and Sam havin’ a fight ‘bout something this morning.”
With a gulp Kara downed the remainder of her coffee. “Actually, that was something I wanted to talk to you guys about. I have a little… project going. Sam isn’t really thrilled about it, but it’s just…” She pensively stroked the side of her nose with her thumb as she talked. “Something I really need. For myself. And maybe it’s selfish, I don’t actually care that much. But the thing is I need the help of a couple good mechanics. Then I thought the only mechanics I knew were you guys, and I thought I’d settle.” She said with a grin.
“Anythin’ you need doin’, Galen and I will take care of it for ya.” Kaylee beamed, turning to give Tyrol a high five. As their hands met their fingers laced.
Kara stared forlornly into her empty mug. Yup. The hangover was going to be a bitch.