You Know Where To Find Me; Athena/Gaeta
Title: You Know Where To Find Me
Fandom: BSG
P/C: Athena/Gaeta, some Boomer/Gaeta
Setting: Between Rapture and Taking A Break From All Your Worries
Rating: PG13
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: For Rapture 3x11
A/N: This is for rap541 who requested Gaeta hurt/comfort (which I don't think I've ever really written) and this is what she got. Set in the same universe as Beyond Time
Sharon knew where to find him. He was tucked into a corner in Joe’s Bar, slowly drowning himself in Virgon beer. He couldn’t afford anything harder then that at the moment.
She was surprised to find him with only one half empty bottle. The cigarette between his lips wasn’t even lit. He was just sort of staring into space, unmoving, his position one of perpetually reaching for the unlit cig in his mouth. When she approached him, he gave her the slightest of acknowledgements, thinking, perhaps, that she would leave.
He couldn’t stand to be around her. Tigh had been flapping his lips in the CIC about how Athena had turned around on Boomer when “that turncoat Cylon bitch” had tried to come back onto the Galactica. Gaeta had not gotten up to leave; he had just shot Tigh about his millionth filthy look. And now, it felt like the Gods had sent Athena to just rub it in further that Boomer had been here. And then she was gone, again.
“Hey Felix. What’s up?”
“Frak yourself.” He didn’t look at her. He just continued to stare off into the distance. He was waiting for her to leave, she could tell. She didn’t leave. She just sat, waiting. “Felix…I couldn’t have let her-“
“Couldn’t have let her what? See the only family she’s ever had again? See me? Oh, wait, she’s evil now. I forgot. She was obviously going to try to kill us all.” He spat it at her in an accusatory tone. For a moment Athena lost her composure. “She tried to kill my child Gaeta!”
“Only after you threw her out of here like a used rag.” He looked down at his practically untouched beer bottle.
“So it’s perfectly fine for her to try and kill my daughter? Turnabouts fair play?”
Felix narrowed his eyes at her. “Frak you Sharon. You stole her whole life.”
“And I had to pay for her mistakes! I had to earn her frakking life back. So don’t you give me any of this “stealing” shit.”
They fell into silence, Athena glaring at him, still standing and Gaeta hunched over his nursed beer, cigarette between two fingers, propped up like some noir-ish figure in a cheap novel.
Gaeta finally broke eye contact with her and whispered, “Please leave.”
“Felix, I -“
“Please. Just go.”
He stared down at the stainless steel surface of the table trying to will her away. She opened her mouth again, to say something more. “I can smell her on you.” He practically whispered it. He stood up from the table, pushing past her to leave. She caught him by the wrist.
“Athena.” He looked at her coldly. She drew her hand away. He stalked off, trying to make an exit, but stumbling on the step between the bar and the deck.
Athena…
The way he’d said her name was almost as if he was pointing it out. That’s who she was. Not-Sharon.
****
She cornered him again, in the causeway near the officer’s bunk. “Gaeta.”
He tried to walk away from her. She grabbed his arm, He tried to shove her off, knocking himself into the wall. Athena took this opportunity to grab him by both arms and hold him still. He kept struggling, trying to knock her away. But she continued to hold him.
She put a hand to the side of his face and he felt the cold metal of her wedding band against his cheek. “Frak off,” he hissed. He tried to shake her off again, not wanting to feel that metal on his face, the metal that symbolized, to him anyway, the difference between Sharon and this cheap copy.
Athena leaned in, putting both hands on either side of his face. Her lips just brushed his. And against his better judgment, he jerked forward, trying to catch them again. They kissed roughly, sloppily. He’d wanted to do this before, but he never had. He was on good terms with Helo. And now, it seemed, he was about to frak his wife.
She wasn’t Boomer. He could feel the difference, taste it. But he didn’t care. She had been so close and he hadn’t even seen her. He had wanted to ask if she thought of him, if she could still remember leaving him for the Chief, if she missed him like she used to. Or at least, the way she said she did.
And now, he and Athena were doing an awfully good impression of Lee Adama and Kara Thrace. nothernothernothernothernothernothernothernother screeched through his head in some high strung litany.
“Please,” she whispered into his mouth. They pulled away from each other for a minute. Athena looked him in the face, pleadingly. “Call me ‘Sharon’.”
And that was when he knew he couldn’t do this. It was too…
He just thought of the Cylons and all the lies they told, of the smirking Three on the Galactica with her entourage and Gaius and the Six and Tyrol and Boomer and he couldn’t take it. He pushed her away from him, as hard as he could. She smacked into the wall on the other side of the corridor. She stared at him, shocked.
He straightened out his dress blues and turned down the hall, walking away, his shoes clicking precisely.
Not her…
It echoed in his head. He didn’t look back.
Fandom: BSG
P/C: Athena/Gaeta, some Boomer/Gaeta
Setting: Between Rapture and Taking A Break From All Your Worries
Rating: PG13
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: For Rapture 3x11
A/N: This is for rap541 who requested Gaeta hurt/comfort (which I don't think I've ever really written) and this is what she got. Set in the same universe as Beyond Time
Sharon knew where to find him. He was tucked into a corner in Joe’s Bar, slowly drowning himself in Virgon beer. He couldn’t afford anything harder then that at the moment.
She was surprised to find him with only one half empty bottle. The cigarette between his lips wasn’t even lit. He was just sort of staring into space, unmoving, his position one of perpetually reaching for the unlit cig in his mouth. When she approached him, he gave her the slightest of acknowledgements, thinking, perhaps, that she would leave.
He couldn’t stand to be around her. Tigh had been flapping his lips in the CIC about how Athena had turned around on Boomer when “that turncoat Cylon bitch” had tried to come back onto the Galactica. Gaeta had not gotten up to leave; he had just shot Tigh about his millionth filthy look. And now, it felt like the Gods had sent Athena to just rub it in further that Boomer had been here. And then she was gone, again.
“Hey Felix. What’s up?”
“Frak yourself.” He didn’t look at her. He just continued to stare off into the distance. He was waiting for her to leave, she could tell. She didn’t leave. She just sat, waiting. “Felix…I couldn’t have let her-“
“Couldn’t have let her what? See the only family she’s ever had again? See me? Oh, wait, she’s evil now. I forgot. She was obviously going to try to kill us all.” He spat it at her in an accusatory tone. For a moment Athena lost her composure. “She tried to kill my child Gaeta!”
“Only after you threw her out of here like a used rag.” He looked down at his practically untouched beer bottle.
“So it’s perfectly fine for her to try and kill my daughter? Turnabouts fair play?”
Felix narrowed his eyes at her. “Frak you Sharon. You stole her whole life.”
“And I had to pay for her mistakes! I had to earn her frakking life back. So don’t you give me any of this “stealing” shit.”
They fell into silence, Athena glaring at him, still standing and Gaeta hunched over his nursed beer, cigarette between two fingers, propped up like some noir-ish figure in a cheap novel.
Gaeta finally broke eye contact with her and whispered, “Please leave.”
“Felix, I -“
“Please. Just go.”
He stared down at the stainless steel surface of the table trying to will her away. She opened her mouth again, to say something more. “I can smell her on you.” He practically whispered it. He stood up from the table, pushing past her to leave. She caught him by the wrist.
“Athena.” He looked at her coldly. She drew her hand away. He stalked off, trying to make an exit, but stumbling on the step between the bar and the deck.
Athena…
The way he’d said her name was almost as if he was pointing it out. That’s who she was. Not-Sharon.
****
She cornered him again, in the causeway near the officer’s bunk. “Gaeta.”
He tried to walk away from her. She grabbed his arm, He tried to shove her off, knocking himself into the wall. Athena took this opportunity to grab him by both arms and hold him still. He kept struggling, trying to knock her away. But she continued to hold him.
She put a hand to the side of his face and he felt the cold metal of her wedding band against his cheek. “Frak off,” he hissed. He tried to shake her off again, not wanting to feel that metal on his face, the metal that symbolized, to him anyway, the difference between Sharon and this cheap copy.
Athena leaned in, putting both hands on either side of his face. Her lips just brushed his. And against his better judgment, he jerked forward, trying to catch them again. They kissed roughly, sloppily. He’d wanted to do this before, but he never had. He was on good terms with Helo. And now, it seemed, he was about to frak his wife.
She wasn’t Boomer. He could feel the difference, taste it. But he didn’t care. She had been so close and he hadn’t even seen her. He had wanted to ask if she thought of him, if she could still remember leaving him for the Chief, if she missed him like she used to. Or at least, the way she said she did.
And now, he and Athena were doing an awfully good impression of Lee Adama and Kara Thrace. nothernothernothernothernothernothernothernother screeched through his head in some high strung litany.
“Please,” she whispered into his mouth. They pulled away from each other for a minute. Athena looked him in the face, pleadingly. “Call me ‘Sharon’.”
And that was when he knew he couldn’t do this. It was too…
He just thought of the Cylons and all the lies they told, of the smirking Three on the Galactica with her entourage and Gaius and the Six and Tyrol and Boomer and he couldn’t take it. He pushed her away from him, as hard as he could. She smacked into the wall on the other side of the corridor. She stared at him, shocked.
He straightened out his dress blues and turned down the hall, walking away, his shoes clicking precisely.
Not her…
It echoed in his head. He didn’t look back.