(no subject)
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica (2004)
Characters: Kara "Starbuck" Thrace/Lee "Apollo" Adama
Prompt: #35 -- Sixth Sense
Word Count: 655
Rating: PG
Summary: Lee blames Kara for a few dead pilots. Kara blames Lee for other things.
Author's Notes: Some mentions of death, but nothing explicit.
Kara is standing with her forehead pressed against her closed locker, hands pulling at her tear ducts as if to rip them out entirely, when she knows he's there; that is to say, Apollo doesn't tend to take her by surprise... Kara can usually hear his loud footsteps long before her eyes reach his face. This time, she doesn't hear the footsteps. All Kara can feel is a faint warmth coming from his direction. She doesn't want to turn to him, she doesn't want him to see her broken. Instead of letting out the whimper she wants to release, she grunts once and composes herself.
"Captain," she says, without turning around. She raises a hand to her hairline in salute while facing her locker still. She hears him at last walk towards her. Kara turns just as he reaches her, and they both stare out with dead expressions on their faces.
"Never again," he whispers viciously. "Never again will you train any wannabe pilots. We should have learned from--" Lee stopped and Kara pretended to stare through him, though her inner monologue ran something along the lines of Frak you, Lee Adama.
"Anyway. The surviving students are officially taken off your duty. I'm sure we'll be able to find someone more fit for the job. Perhaps a janitor, or maybe even a small child could top you, for surely they'd have the brains to figure out that you don't frakking fly on a broken Viper!" Kara slowly steered her gaze to Lee's own. The two were inches apart, though in spirit they could have been on different planets for all Kara cared.
"Lieutenant," Lee continued, "what were you thinking?! I want the truth."
Kara did not respond. The truth would be too hard on Lee's fragile little ego for the bastard to cope with; no, he could never find out. A suicide mission lead by the Deputy C.A.G. would not be taken lightly.
"I thought," Kara growled, "that the Chief had cleared the Vipers--"
"The Chief does not recall ever clearing those Vipers, Kara. Don't frakking bullshit me," Lee hissed, slamming her hard against her locker with two open palms against her shoulders. Kara stared at him coldly.
"Don't touch me," she said in a dead tone.
"We have three dead pilots because of you, Starbuck," Lee accused. Kara could feel his breath on her lips; it clouded her judgement infinitesimally... but the pause was enough. Lee backed away and threw his hands in the air in exasperation.
"When you want to tell me why you killed Hotdog and Cat, I'll be in the C.I.C.--" he began, but Kara had frakking had enough.
"I didn't kill them," she vowed at last, walking towards him at a quick clip. Now she was the aggressor, she was the one pressing him against the locker door. Her hands rested against his chest, and he didn't stop her. That was a step in the right direction, wasn't it?
"I didn't ask them to come with me. I didn't want them with me on this particular mission. Don't let me forget to remind you that it was Captain Adama's decision to add more raiders to the hunting party. Don't let me forget to remind you that it was my idea to send out a sole Viper--"
"A sole Viper would have been vaporized out there in the Cylon's cloud of ships," Lee admonished. Kara let her hands slide away from him.
"I didn't want to come back," Kara whispered. "I wanted to be dead." She put it in the past tense, though she wasn't really sure if those thoughts were gone. "I wanted--"
She didn't continue, and he didn't ask her to. Lee left at a jog, and Kara went back to her place in front of her locker, forehead pressed against the cold green metal, wondering what the frak she was still doing alive.
Characters: Kara "Starbuck" Thrace/Lee "Apollo" Adama
Prompt: #35 -- Sixth Sense
Word Count: 655
Rating: PG
Summary: Lee blames Kara for a few dead pilots. Kara blames Lee for other things.
Author's Notes: Some mentions of death, but nothing explicit.
Kara is standing with her forehead pressed against her closed locker, hands pulling at her tear ducts as if to rip them out entirely, when she knows he's there; that is to say, Apollo doesn't tend to take her by surprise... Kara can usually hear his loud footsteps long before her eyes reach his face. This time, she doesn't hear the footsteps. All Kara can feel is a faint warmth coming from his direction. She doesn't want to turn to him, she doesn't want him to see her broken. Instead of letting out the whimper she wants to release, she grunts once and composes herself.
"Captain," she says, without turning around. She raises a hand to her hairline in salute while facing her locker still. She hears him at last walk towards her. Kara turns just as he reaches her, and they both stare out with dead expressions on their faces.
"Never again," he whispers viciously. "Never again will you train any wannabe pilots. We should have learned from--" Lee stopped and Kara pretended to stare through him, though her inner monologue ran something along the lines of Frak you, Lee Adama.
"Anyway. The surviving students are officially taken off your duty. I'm sure we'll be able to find someone more fit for the job. Perhaps a janitor, or maybe even a small child could top you, for surely they'd have the brains to figure out that you don't frakking fly on a broken Viper!" Kara slowly steered her gaze to Lee's own. The two were inches apart, though in spirit they could have been on different planets for all Kara cared.
"Lieutenant," Lee continued, "what were you thinking?! I want the truth."
Kara did not respond. The truth would be too hard on Lee's fragile little ego for the bastard to cope with; no, he could never find out. A suicide mission lead by the Deputy C.A.G. would not be taken lightly.
"I thought," Kara growled, "that the Chief had cleared the Vipers--"
"The Chief does not recall ever clearing those Vipers, Kara. Don't frakking bullshit me," Lee hissed, slamming her hard against her locker with two open palms against her shoulders. Kara stared at him coldly.
"Don't touch me," she said in a dead tone.
"We have three dead pilots because of you, Starbuck," Lee accused. Kara could feel his breath on her lips; it clouded her judgement infinitesimally... but the pause was enough. Lee backed away and threw his hands in the air in exasperation.
"When you want to tell me why you killed Hotdog and Cat, I'll be in the C.I.C.--" he began, but Kara had frakking had enough.
"I didn't kill them," she vowed at last, walking towards him at a quick clip. Now she was the aggressor, she was the one pressing him against the locker door. Her hands rested against his chest, and he didn't stop her. That was a step in the right direction, wasn't it?
"I didn't ask them to come with me. I didn't want them with me on this particular mission. Don't let me forget to remind you that it was Captain Adama's decision to add more raiders to the hunting party. Don't let me forget to remind you that it was my idea to send out a sole Viper--"
"A sole Viper would have been vaporized out there in the Cylon's cloud of ships," Lee admonished. Kara let her hands slide away from him.
"I didn't want to come back," Kara whispered. "I wanted to be dead." She put it in the past tense, though she wasn't really sure if those thoughts were gone. "I wanted--"
She didn't continue, and he didn't ask her to. Lee left at a jog, and Kara went back to her place in front of her locker, forehead pressed against the cold green metal, wondering what the frak she was still doing alive.