BSG fic announcement: Nine Lives 1/2
Title: Nine Lives
Author: Widget
Characters: Lee, OFC (it’s not what you think, really!)
Rating: G. OMG! This fic is so clean it squeaks! No, seriously, it actually does squeak! I’m not making that up.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be (otherwise Lee would be dressed in that towel permanently! Mmmm…towel). No money is being made.
Spoilers: Massive spoilers through the end of season 3.
Summary: It’s time to start another life. But no one said Lee had to go it alone.
Notes: Birthday fic for the oh so wonderful inlovewithnight. I tried for porn, but this story lodged in my brain. It’s you, darling, it really is. ;-) This story picks up at the end of S3 and takes it in a direction that has nothing to do with canon but which is actually kind of fun to contemplate. It's also borderline crack!fic. Shuddup! Thanks to the always awesome romanticalgirl for the beta.
The knock on the hatch wasn’t particularly loud, but it was unexpected enough to make Lee nearly drop the book he was reading. In the week since he’d begun berthing on Gideon, Lee had pretty much been keeping to himself. It wasn’t that the people here were openly hostile; they weren’t, which already made it a pleasant change from Galactica in those last days he’d spent aboard. But there was a certain…wariness, he supposed was the best way to describe it. Lee wasn’t sure how much of that stemmed from the part he’d played in Baltar’s trial and how much was because he was ex-military, but either way he knew he made people here uncomfortable. So Lee kept to himself, gave them - and him - some time to adjust to the situation.
He definitely wasn’t hiding, no matter how it might look.
Another knock and Lee heaved a sigh before setting aside his book. It only took two strides to reach the hatch, another second to open it before he was standing face to face with his visitor. Lee blinked. This day was just full of surprises.
“What are you doing here, Romo?” The words came out a little more sharply than he’d intended, but Lampkin didn’t seem fazed in the slightest.
“And a good day to you as well,” he replied, his voice tinged with thinly veiled amusement. “May I?” he asked with a tilt of his head towards Lee’s cabin.
For a moment Lee considered refusing and just closing the hatch in the man’s face, but even as he thought about it, he knew he wouldn’t follow through. It wasn’t Lampkin he was angry with. Well, not entirely. As much as he’d like to blame the other man for the disaster his life had become, Lee knew that it was his own choices that led him here. Lampkin, Baltar, his father, Roslin, Kara, Dualla, all of them played a part, but at the end of the day it was all on him. He was just going to have to learn to deal with it. First things first, however,
Lee stepped back and let Lampkin inside.
Lampkin made a show of studying Lee’s cabin. “Nice place you’ve got here. Quite homey.”
Lee tried not to grit his teeth. He was well aware of how cramped his current quarters were. His cabin - more a closet, truth be told - was barely big enough to accommodate the two of them. It might be a step down from his previous quarters, but it was better than the rack he’d occupied in those early months on Galactica and a damned sight more comfortable than the overcrowded Dogville. Lee shook his head. He really needed to loose the chip on his shoulder. Not every remark directed at him was intended as an affront. Of course, with Lampkin, you could never tell.
“It’s home,” Lee replied with a shrug.
Lampkin made a vague sound of acknowledgment. “You’re a hard man to track down, Mr. Adama.”
“You seem to have managed it just fine,” Lee replied dryly.
Another sly grin. “That I did. That I did.”
Lampkin rocked back on his heels, looking like the cat that got the canary. Lee waited, but the man just kept grinning at him until Lee finally gave an exasperated sigh.
“What do you want, Romo?”
“Me?” he asked with poorly feigned innocence. “Why, not a thing.”
Lampkin was a brilliant lawyer but Lee had forgotten how gods-damned irritating he could be when he was of a mind. “Let me rephrase that. Why are you here?”
Lampkin beamed at him, like a teacher who’d finally teased the correct answer from a dim-witted student. Lee contemplated violence and not for the first time.
“I brought you something. Consider it a house-warming gift if you like.”
Memories of tales involving people bearing gifts and the tragic consequences came to mind, but he dismissed them at once. Lampkin was many things, but malicious wasn’t one of them. He’d never actively sought to do Lee harm. He didn’t need to; Lee was more than capable of frakking up his own life without any outside assistance.
“What is it?” Lee asked, curious despite himself.
“Hold out your hands.”
Lee frowned at the cryptic response. “What?”
“Hold out your hands,” Lampkin repeated more amused than impatient. “Like this.”
He held his own hands in front of him, cupping them together palms up. “Go on,” he said when Lee continued to hesitate.
Recognizing that Lampkin wasn’t going to be dissuaded, Lee did as the other man asked.
Lampkin’s smile widened as he fished around in the pocket of his lumpy jacket. He made a triumphant sound then proceeded to deposit something in Lee’s outstretched hands. Something soft and warm.
Something soft and warm and alive.
“Mewr.”
Lee’s eyes went wide as he stared at the ginger colored ball of fluff that stared right back at him.
Lee looked at Lampkin, unable to hide his surprise.
“A kitten?”
“Very good, Mr. Adama. I’m pleased that you haven’t let that keen mind of yours go to seed since we parted company.”
“Romo…” Lee growled in frustration.
Perhaps Lampkin had decided he’d already derived enough entertainment at Lee’s expense because he actually explained himself. “My cat was unfaithful to me. I have no idea where or when she encountered her swain, but clearly she found companionship somewhere along the way if that litter she had is any indication. Or perhaps it’s a miracle from the gods?” he added.
Lee snorted. “I’m sure you can find good homes for them. I bet there are people who would be willing to trade almost anything for a kitten.”
The grin that Lampkin have him had a decidedly predatory edge to it. “That they are, Lee, my boy. Never thought I’d see the day that a little bit of fluff would be a valuable commodity, but then, life these days is full of surprises, isn’t it?”
Lee nodded, his eyes drawn irresistibly to the little bit of fluff once more. “Why give it to me, then? Surely someone would be happy to take it off your hands.”
“She.”
“What?”
“She’s a girl,” Lampkin said. “Runt of the litter, in fact.”
“So?”
Lampkin lifted his shoulders in a careless shrug, but there was something in his posture, in the cast of his features that belied the apparent nonchalance. Not for the first time Lee wished he could peer behind those sunglasses Lampkin wore to better read the man’s moods. “Since you seem to have an affinity for the underdog…”
At that moment the kitten made a sound, more squeak than meow, as if in protest.
“My apologies, undercat,” he corrected, with a nod towards the affronted kitten “…I thought the two of you would get on quite well.”
Lee blinked, bemused. Whatever explanation he’d been expecting it was most assuredly not that. He could feel the weight of the other man’s gaze on him. There was something more going on, but Lee couldn’t begin to fathom it.
“Romo…I…” Lee started, but he had no idea of what he wanted to say.
Lampkin reached out and gently scratched the kitten between the ears, winning him a small, pleased noise in response. “Everyone needs someone, Mr. Adama, even a kitten.”
Lee frowned, his gaze drifting yet again to the kitten. It was a tiny thing, fitting easily into the cradle of his hands, just a scrap of ginger colored fur with white patches on its nose and chest. It stared up at him with what a more fanciful man might describe as a serious expression, blue eyes blinking slowly. So tiny. So helpless. It gave another squeaky meow.
Lee couldn’t help but smile a little. “You’re a pushy little thing, aren’t you?”
Another meow.
Lee gave a soft huff of laughter and shook his head. He stared down at it…her…and felt something in his chest loosen.
“Looks like I came to the right place.”
Lee looked up again to find Lampkin watching him with a faint smile tracing his lips. There was amusement there but surprisingly enough, Lee found not even a trace of mockery.
“I’ll be off then.”
“Romo…”
Lampkin shook his head, still wearing that soft smile that might almost be called indulgent if the man were prone to such bouts of idle emotion, which Lee was pretty sure he wasn’t. But perhaps he’d misjudged the man. It wouldn’t be the first time. Or, he suspected, the last.
“I’ll take good care of her,” Lee promised.
Lampkin tipped his glasses down the bridge of his nose and shot Lee a look of pure mischief. “Of that I never had any doubt. Good day to you, Mr. Adama.”
Lee watched as Lampkin exited the cabin, closing the hatch behind him.
Lee looked down at the kitten. The kitten looked back up at Lee.
“Mewr.”
That, Lee thought, pretty much said it all.
[][][]
Lee had never had a pet before, not a real one anyway. He tended not to count the blue shell turtle he’d had when he was eleven that had mysteriously escaped its terrarium, made its way outside the house and crossed into the street where it was perhaps predictably run over by a truck. Lee had never believed Zak’s repeated and vocal denials for a minute, but unable to prove otherwise had had no choice to let the matter drop. Of course, after that experience Lee’d been somewhat soured by the whole pet-ownership experience and decided not to repeat the incident, at least while Zak was around.
And then there’d been the academy and war college and postings to various battlestars, which left no opportunity to have a pet - not that Lee had even wanted one. Pets were like children in Lee’s mind: something better left to other people.
Except here he was with a small kitten and not the slightest clue how to care for her. He assumed she’d been weaned; Gods, he hoped so, otherwise they were both totally screwed. Water wouldn’t be a problem; surely a creature that small wouldn’t need much. Food, though…that would be a problem. Lee didn’t have the first notion of what cats ate, but then that really didn’t matter since the only thing available was processed algae. Lee didn’t know if she would eat it or if she could even digest it, but it would have to do. He wished he’d thought to ask all of this before Romo had left. Surely he would have the answers. Of course, Lee wouldn’t put it past the man to let Lee flounder around and figure it out himself. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d tossed Lee in the deep end of the pool expecting him to figure out how to swim or drown.
When Lee returned from the ship’s mess with his rations, he spooned a portion into the small bowl he’d managed to snag and set it on the floor in front of the kitten. She tottered over, sniffed daintily at the algae, looked up at Lee and squeaked.
“It’s food,” Lee explained, suddenly very grateful that he didn’t share quarters. She never would have let him live this down. Lee pushed that thought aside before the pain could settle in.
The kitten looked back at the food, then back at Lee and squeaked again in confusion. Lee knelt beside the dish and braced himself on his forearms until he was close to eye level with his new charge. “It’s food,” he explained again. “You eat it.”
“Mewr.”
That almost sounded like a question. Heaving a sigh, Lee leaned closer and mimicked eating from the dish. And now he was really glad that he lived alone. He flicked a glance at the kitten. She continued to sit on the other side of the dish, head tilted in curiosity, but made no effort to follow his example. Lee let out a frustrated breath and settled back to consider the problem. On impulse, he dipped his little finger into the algae pulp and held it out towards the kitten. She tilted her head to the other side then leaned in until her nose was pressed against his fingertip. She sniffed, once, twice, then began to lick the algae from his finger.
When his finger had been licked clean, she looked up at him again and meowed.
Lee grinned back. Dipping his finger into the algae again and again, he watched, enchanted, as the kitten lapped it up with delicate strokes of her tongue until the algae was gone.
He smiled at the kitten, feeling an odd sense of triumph. Perhaps this whole pet thing wasn’t so bad.
[][][]
It was the sound of mewling cries that woke him. Disoriented and fuzzy with sleep, it took Lee a minute to identify the source of the noise. He rolled onto his side and looked down to find the kitten sitting on the deck beside his rack wailing pitifully and looking up at him with pleading eyes.
“No,” he said firmly. “You have your own bed.” He pointed in the direction of the spare blanket that he’d folded up into a little nest in the corner.
The kitten mewled again, such an unhappy sound that Lee couldn’t help but flinch.
“There’s not enough room for both of us up here.” That was true enough. His rack - cot, he reminded himself, they didn’t have racks on civilian ships - was so narrow he barely fit on it himself. With a kitten, even a tiny one such as this, it would be uncomfortable.
The kitten mewled again.
“I’d roll over and squish you,” he explained, trying to be rational.
Another heartrending cry.
“I’m allergic to cats.”
That was an outright lie, of course. He knew it and he suspected even the kitten knew it since she hadn’t stopped her pitiful howling.
“Oh for the love of the Gods…” he muttered under his breath before scooping the kitten up off the floor and setting her on the cot beside him. Her wailing cut off abruptly. She gave a little snuffling sound and Lee thought that perhaps she’d just settle in next to him and that would be that.
He was wrong, of course.
With a suddenness that took him by surprise, the kitten jumped on to his stomach and proceeded to start kneading.
“Shit!” he hissed as tiny claws dug into his skin. He clenched his teeth and fought the temptation to pick her up by the scruff and set her back on the blanket folded in the corner, knowing that it would only set off another round of pitiful wailing. Nothing to do but grit his teeth and bear it.
Happily, she stopped after a minute, curling up into a tiny little ball to sleep. He could feel a soft vibration against his skin and realized that she was purring, content and quiescent once more. Lee shook his head, smiling in spite of himself and watched her sleep until he drifted off as well.
Lee woke a second time to a sense of pressure on his chest and something cold tickling his nose. He opened his eyes to find the kitten sitting on his chest with her little pink nose pressed to his. She blinked her eyes slowly, and continued to watch him, her gaze oddly appraising. Lee rubbed the grit from his eyes and glanced over at the clock beside his head, eyes widening when he read the time. He rubbed his eyes again, but it was no mistake. He’d had eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. He hadn’t slept the night through like that since…well, he couldn’t even recall. He looked up at the kitten who continued to regard him calmly.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Mewr.”
Lee smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He cradled her carefully to his chest as he sat up, legs swinging over the side. He half expected a fuss, but she seemed perfectly content to snuggle against him and truth be told, he didn’t mind it in the slightest. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest and she was soft and warm in his hand. Without thinking, he leaned down and rubbed his unshaven cheek against the top of her head, feeling the softness of her fur against his skin. She endured it without the slightest complaint and Lee smiled, really smiled, in a way that he hadn’t in a long, long time.
[][][]
Cohabitation was always a challenge. Lee had learned that lesson early on from sharing a bedroom with Zak, something they’d had to do on more than a few occasions growing in cramped military housing. Over the years that followed, there’d been roommates and rackmates and his wife…soon to be ex-wife…of course. The key to living with someone, he’d discovered, was patience, tolerance and above all respect. Everyone had their quirks, their own personal idiosyncrasies and the only way to live together was to recognize them and learn to accept them. And above all, give them their own space.
Dee had actually been easy to live with for the most part. She’d been happy to give him space, respecting his boundaries and his need for solitude, content to be with him but not needing his constant attention. It wasn’t until after she returned that Dee became clingy and needy, forcing Lee to flee his own home - their home - to find respite. The trial might have been the final wedge between them, but the marriage had been falling apart for a long time. If you can’t live with someone, how can you stay married? The answer, of course, was that you couldn’t, which was how he came to be here in the first place. When it came right down to it, though, she’d been a far better roommate than a wife.
And now, here he was, sharing quarters with another female and one who, it would appear, had no concept of personal space whatsoever. It was strange; Lee had always heard that cats were independent, aloof. Standoffish. Apparently his kitten hadn’t gotten the memo. She wanted to be near him almost constantly. She categorically refused to sleep in the bed he’d made for her on the deck. Lee had given up on that after the second night, which had been a repeat of the first, complete with pitiful mewling cries and pleading kitten eyes. She might only be seven weeks old, but she’d mastered the art of the guilt trip with the ease of an old hand. The problem, of course, was that you can’t reason with a kitten. She wants what she wants and that’s that and all the logic in the worlds won’t sway her course. And apparently what she wanted was to be around Lee. Constantly. It was frustrating but also kind of flattering. At least someone wanted him, even if it was only a kitten.
So, the kitten slept with him every night, sprawled across his belly, or curled up against his side, purring softly. He grew accustomed to the almost negligible weight of her, learned to tolerate the sharp edged claws digging into his skin as she kneaded him like her own personal pin cushion. It was becoming familiar, soothing almost, even though she squeaked in protest whenever he jostled her or tried to roll over. He still hand fed her, holding her cradled to his chest while she licked algae pulp from his fingers. He’d have to wean her from that eventually. But not yet.
Of course, some of her habits were less endearing. Like her insistence upon sitting on any stray piece of paper, especially of it was one Lee was reading/needed at that particular moment. No sooner would he set a sheet of paper or a folder aside than she was there sitting right on top of it. He’d pick her up and set her somewhere else, earning him an indignant squawk, but the second his attention wandered, she was back. Lee was half convinced that she’d made it her personal mission to insure that every piece of paper in his quarters was at least partially wrinkled. She was quite thorough.
Lee had to remind himself that she was a just kitten, a baby really, and that she liked to play. So he tried not to get frustrated when she started batting at his pen (he’d learned to be very careful about where he set it down; while it might be fun for her to whack it around, it wasn’t nearly as entertaining for him to fish it out from beneath his cot afterwards). At times, he would wad up a used sheet of paper and toss it on the deck and watch, amused, as she launched herself after it, batting at it and pouncing on her poor unsuspecting prey with manic glee, the mighty huntress on the prowl.
Then there was her favorite trick, which involved climbing up Lee’s pant’s leg. Too small to jump any significant height as yet she had to rely on climbing and had chosen Lee as her personal ladder. And, OK, he had to admit it was kind of cute, with the exception of the whole ‘razor sharp claws digging into his legs’ part, of course. It was strangely fascinating to watch her climb up his leg with all the fierce determination of a marine sergeant leading an assault, her little face scrunched up in concentration. When she finally reached his lap - her usual destination - she’d give him a look that he could only describe as smug. Mission accomplished.
She was an utterly fearless creature, he soon came to realize. She would, on occasion, tumble to the deck or crash into a bulkhead in the course of one of her frenzied games, but apart from a startled squeak, she simply picked herself up and dove back into whatever she’d been doing with renewed enthusiasm. Lee couldn’t help but admire that about her, and envy her for it. Of course, it helped to have nine lives stretching out before you (how many lives had he himself already used up? Too many, far too many). And the ability to always land on one’s feet was one he didn’t been gifted with, as his current situation made painfully clear.
But the best times were the quiet ones. She liked to sit in his lap while he poured over his grandfather’s law books. Sometimes she’d lean forward and rest her paws on the open book, looking for all the world like she was reading along with him (and given how clever she was, Lee wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t), but more often, she’d just curl up and sleep, her soft, rumbly purr vibrating against his leg. Lee would stroke her fur absently while he read, her purrs growing even louder in approval.
Lee was deep into one of his grandfather’s law books when there was a knock on the hatch. Lee’s hand stilled and the kitten raised her head, reacting either to the sound or to the cessation of petting and looked up at Lee, head tilted as if in query.
“Looks like we’ve got company,” he told her as he set aside his book and lifted her off his lap. She mad a disapproving noise as he deposited her on the bed, but settled down without further fuss as Lee went to answer the hatch.
He couldn’t imagine who it might be. It wasn’t like he had many friends. Or any for that matter. The ship’s inhabitants had started to warm up to him for the most part; he’d even begun to have conversations with his fellow passengers on occasion. Nothing of consequence, just small talk, but it was a good start he decided. And any conversation that didn’t involve either Baltar or his father was fine by him.
Thinking perhaps it was Romo, he opened the hatch only to be shocked speechless by the sight of his soon-to-be ex-wife.
Wonderful.
“Dee,” he greeted courteously, trying to ignore the sour look on her face.
“Can I come in?”
No. That was his first thought. He didn’t want her here and he certainly didn’t want to have the conversation he knew was coming. Of course, what he wanted and what he actually got had rarely been the same thing. Besides, if she was here for the reason he thought, this was one conversation better held behind closed doors.
“Of course,” he replied, stepping aside to allow her entrance, eyes following the stiff line of her back. He closed the hatch and opened his mouth to speak but he never got the chance as Dee’s eyes fell on his kitten.
Her expression changed from disapproval to childlike delight in the space of a heartbeat. “Oh my Gods, Lee! It’s a kitten!” She smiled, moving closer. “Oooooh, look at you! Aren’t you the sweetest little thing? Yes, you are! What’s her name?”
Lee was trying so hard not to cringe at the sudden shift into baby-talk that he almost missed the question Dee had directed at him. The question he couldn’t answer because he’d never actually gotten around to giving her a name. She’d just been “her” or “his kitten.” He’d never even thought to give her a name until now. Before he could make that embarrassing confession, however, Dee, still cooing softly, reached out presumably to pet the kitten. Except it didn’t turn out that way.
The moment Dee’s hand approached, the kitten did the most startling thing. She reared back, ears flat against her head and hissed. Loudly. Dee froze momentarily, clearly shocked, then it was her turn to rear back as the kitten swiped at her, claws extended.
Lee’s eyes darted back and forth between the kitten still hissing and spitting and Dee who had sucked her finger into her mouth to staunch the bleeding.
Dee glared at Lee. “She scratched me!” Dee said, her voice thick with accusation. Torn between embarrassment and concern, he scooped up the kitten and cradled her against his chest. She was clearly agitated; he could feel her heart pounding in her chest. He petted her gently with his free hand to calm her down.
“Sorry,” he said confounded. “She’s never done that before. I guess she doesn’t like strangers.”
Dee’s face darkened, but Lee ignored her. It occurred to him in that moment he actually felt a greater affinity to the kitten currently snuggled against his chest than he did this woman with whom he’d shared his bed and his life for so many months. That was frakked up, he supposed, but it didn’t make it any less true. He placed a light kiss on the top of the kitten’s head then turned his attention back to his wife.
“What can I do for you, Dee?”
Drawing an enveloped from her uniform jacket, she scowled at him. “What the hell are these?”
Lee resisted the urge to sigh. “I would have thought that was obvious. It’s a request for a legal separation.”
“I can’t believe you started divorce proceedings without even consulting me!”
Lee felt a flare of anger, but tamped down on it at once. He was tired of fighting. “I thought you’d made your wishes quite clear when you left me.”
She flushed from guilt or embarrassment, maybe both, but she wasn’t willing to back down. “That didn’t mean I wanted to throw our whole marriage away!” she snapped. “You left Galactica without a word to me or your father, after throwing your career away and defending that…that monster!”
Lee shook his head. “I told you why I did that and you were quite adamant in your disapproval. If you’re looking for an apology, then I’m sorry. I don’t regret anything I did. Not then and not now.”
“What about our marriage?”
“What marriage?” he shot back, some of his anger, his sense of betrayal bleeding through. “Marriage is for better or for worse. When everyone else turned their backs on me, I thought at least you’d stand beside me. I was wrong.”
Lips thinned in a disapproving line, Dee shook her head in denial. “I don’t know who you are anymore, Lee.”
This time he did sigh. “And that’s the problem. I was always this man, Dee, you just never noticed.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “I can’t change who I am. I don’t need or want your approval. All I ask for is your understanding.”
He took a step closer then paused as the kitten made a low growling noise. “I can’t be the man you want me to be. Apollo, the CAG, the Commander, that was always a façade. This is the real me, Dee. This is who I am. I’m done pretending otherwise. Is that enough for you? Am I enough for you?”
He stood there waiting for her response. She didn’t say a word; she didn’t need to. The answer was written across her face. Lee watched as Dee pulled out the papers and signed her name at the bottom, putting an end to their marriage. Lee knew he should probably feel more broken up about it, but he just felt relief that it was over.
“You’re a wonderful woman, Dee. I hope you find someone who loves you like you deserve to be loved. I want you to be happy.”
Dee nodded. She raised her chin, standing proud and composed, but Lee could see the faint tremble to her lips and the sheen of tears in her eyes that she wouldn’t allow to fall in his presence. “Goodbye, Lee.”
“Goodbye, Dee.”
Lee watched as his wife - ex-wife now - walked out of his cabin and his life for good. It would probably be a long time before he saw her again. Maybe by then she’ll have moved on and found someone to make her happy. He truly hoped so.
“Mewr.”
Lee looked down at the soft, almost querying sound. The kitten gazed up at him with uncomplicated affection. He smiled down at her and scratched the space between her ears. She purred contentedly.
“Thanks for standing up for me,” he said softly. He was being ridiculous, he knew, attributing emotions and motives to an animal like this. But it had felt nice having someone take his side, even if it was only a kitten. It was a sad commentary on his life when a kitten seemed to have more faith in him than his own wife and father.
“You’re quite the fierce little warrior.”
She meowed in response.
“You know, I never even gave you a name. That was a terrible oversight on my part, wasn’t it?” He scratched her ears again before holding her up so he could look right at her. “I think I’ll call you Artemis. She was always looking out for Apollo, too, you know. Would you like that?”
Another soft meow. He cradled her against him again and sat down on the bed, shifting until his back was pressed against the bulkhead and his legs were stretched out in front of him. He set her in his lap to allow her some freedom. She walked in a circle once, twice, then dropped to sprawl across his thighs. He stroked his hand down the length of her spine, his touch slow and gentle, making her go completely boneless.
“Of course, I’m not Apollo anymore,” he told her, not that she could understand. He tipped his head back and stared at the bulkhead above. “Truth is, I never was. It was always just a joke. And not a very good one. But I kind of like the idea of Artemis watching over me. Even a small, furry version”
Her only reply was a loud purr.
part 2
Author: Widget
Characters: Lee, OFC (it’s not what you think, really!)
Rating: G. OMG! This fic is so clean it squeaks! No, seriously, it actually does squeak! I’m not making that up.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be (otherwise Lee would be dressed in that towel permanently! Mmmm…towel). No money is being made.
Spoilers: Massive spoilers through the end of season 3.
Summary: It’s time to start another life. But no one said Lee had to go it alone.
Notes: Birthday fic for the oh so wonderful inlovewithnight. I tried for porn, but this story lodged in my brain. It’s you, darling, it really is. ;-) This story picks up at the end of S3 and takes it in a direction that has nothing to do with canon but which is actually kind of fun to contemplate. It's also borderline crack!fic. Shuddup! Thanks to the always awesome romanticalgirl for the beta.
The knock on the hatch wasn’t particularly loud, but it was unexpected enough to make Lee nearly drop the book he was reading. In the week since he’d begun berthing on Gideon, Lee had pretty much been keeping to himself. It wasn’t that the people here were openly hostile; they weren’t, which already made it a pleasant change from Galactica in those last days he’d spent aboard. But there was a certain…wariness, he supposed was the best way to describe it. Lee wasn’t sure how much of that stemmed from the part he’d played in Baltar’s trial and how much was because he was ex-military, but either way he knew he made people here uncomfortable. So Lee kept to himself, gave them - and him - some time to adjust to the situation.
He definitely wasn’t hiding, no matter how it might look.
Another knock and Lee heaved a sigh before setting aside his book. It only took two strides to reach the hatch, another second to open it before he was standing face to face with his visitor. Lee blinked. This day was just full of surprises.
“What are you doing here, Romo?” The words came out a little more sharply than he’d intended, but Lampkin didn’t seem fazed in the slightest.
“And a good day to you as well,” he replied, his voice tinged with thinly veiled amusement. “May I?” he asked with a tilt of his head towards Lee’s cabin.
For a moment Lee considered refusing and just closing the hatch in the man’s face, but even as he thought about it, he knew he wouldn’t follow through. It wasn’t Lampkin he was angry with. Well, not entirely. As much as he’d like to blame the other man for the disaster his life had become, Lee knew that it was his own choices that led him here. Lampkin, Baltar, his father, Roslin, Kara, Dualla, all of them played a part, but at the end of the day it was all on him. He was just going to have to learn to deal with it. First things first, however,
Lee stepped back and let Lampkin inside.
Lampkin made a show of studying Lee’s cabin. “Nice place you’ve got here. Quite homey.”
Lee tried not to grit his teeth. He was well aware of how cramped his current quarters were. His cabin - more a closet, truth be told - was barely big enough to accommodate the two of them. It might be a step down from his previous quarters, but it was better than the rack he’d occupied in those early months on Galactica and a damned sight more comfortable than the overcrowded Dogville. Lee shook his head. He really needed to loose the chip on his shoulder. Not every remark directed at him was intended as an affront. Of course, with Lampkin, you could never tell.
“It’s home,” Lee replied with a shrug.
Lampkin made a vague sound of acknowledgment. “You’re a hard man to track down, Mr. Adama.”
“You seem to have managed it just fine,” Lee replied dryly.
Another sly grin. “That I did. That I did.”
Lampkin rocked back on his heels, looking like the cat that got the canary. Lee waited, but the man just kept grinning at him until Lee finally gave an exasperated sigh.
“What do you want, Romo?”
“Me?” he asked with poorly feigned innocence. “Why, not a thing.”
Lampkin was a brilliant lawyer but Lee had forgotten how gods-damned irritating he could be when he was of a mind. “Let me rephrase that. Why are you here?”
Lampkin beamed at him, like a teacher who’d finally teased the correct answer from a dim-witted student. Lee contemplated violence and not for the first time.
“I brought you something. Consider it a house-warming gift if you like.”
Memories of tales involving people bearing gifts and the tragic consequences came to mind, but he dismissed them at once. Lampkin was many things, but malicious wasn’t one of them. He’d never actively sought to do Lee harm. He didn’t need to; Lee was more than capable of frakking up his own life without any outside assistance.
“What is it?” Lee asked, curious despite himself.
“Hold out your hands.”
Lee frowned at the cryptic response. “What?”
“Hold out your hands,” Lampkin repeated more amused than impatient. “Like this.”
He held his own hands in front of him, cupping them together palms up. “Go on,” he said when Lee continued to hesitate.
Recognizing that Lampkin wasn’t going to be dissuaded, Lee did as the other man asked.
Lampkin’s smile widened as he fished around in the pocket of his lumpy jacket. He made a triumphant sound then proceeded to deposit something in Lee’s outstretched hands. Something soft and warm.
Something soft and warm and alive.
“Mewr.”
Lee’s eyes went wide as he stared at the ginger colored ball of fluff that stared right back at him.
Lee looked at Lampkin, unable to hide his surprise.
“A kitten?”
“Very good, Mr. Adama. I’m pleased that you haven’t let that keen mind of yours go to seed since we parted company.”
“Romo…” Lee growled in frustration.
Perhaps Lampkin had decided he’d already derived enough entertainment at Lee’s expense because he actually explained himself. “My cat was unfaithful to me. I have no idea where or when she encountered her swain, but clearly she found companionship somewhere along the way if that litter she had is any indication. Or perhaps it’s a miracle from the gods?” he added.
Lee snorted. “I’m sure you can find good homes for them. I bet there are people who would be willing to trade almost anything for a kitten.”
The grin that Lampkin have him had a decidedly predatory edge to it. “That they are, Lee, my boy. Never thought I’d see the day that a little bit of fluff would be a valuable commodity, but then, life these days is full of surprises, isn’t it?”
Lee nodded, his eyes drawn irresistibly to the little bit of fluff once more. “Why give it to me, then? Surely someone would be happy to take it off your hands.”
“She.”
“What?”
“She’s a girl,” Lampkin said. “Runt of the litter, in fact.”
“So?”
Lampkin lifted his shoulders in a careless shrug, but there was something in his posture, in the cast of his features that belied the apparent nonchalance. Not for the first time Lee wished he could peer behind those sunglasses Lampkin wore to better read the man’s moods. “Since you seem to have an affinity for the underdog…”
At that moment the kitten made a sound, more squeak than meow, as if in protest.
“My apologies, undercat,” he corrected, with a nod towards the affronted kitten “…I thought the two of you would get on quite well.”
Lee blinked, bemused. Whatever explanation he’d been expecting it was most assuredly not that. He could feel the weight of the other man’s gaze on him. There was something more going on, but Lee couldn’t begin to fathom it.
“Romo…I…” Lee started, but he had no idea of what he wanted to say.
Lampkin reached out and gently scratched the kitten between the ears, winning him a small, pleased noise in response. “Everyone needs someone, Mr. Adama, even a kitten.”
Lee frowned, his gaze drifting yet again to the kitten. It was a tiny thing, fitting easily into the cradle of his hands, just a scrap of ginger colored fur with white patches on its nose and chest. It stared up at him with what a more fanciful man might describe as a serious expression, blue eyes blinking slowly. So tiny. So helpless. It gave another squeaky meow.
Lee couldn’t help but smile a little. “You’re a pushy little thing, aren’t you?”
Another meow.
Lee gave a soft huff of laughter and shook his head. He stared down at it…her…and felt something in his chest loosen.
“Looks like I came to the right place.”
Lee looked up again to find Lampkin watching him with a faint smile tracing his lips. There was amusement there but surprisingly enough, Lee found not even a trace of mockery.
“I’ll be off then.”
“Romo…”
Lampkin shook his head, still wearing that soft smile that might almost be called indulgent if the man were prone to such bouts of idle emotion, which Lee was pretty sure he wasn’t. But perhaps he’d misjudged the man. It wouldn’t be the first time. Or, he suspected, the last.
“I’ll take good care of her,” Lee promised.
Lampkin tipped his glasses down the bridge of his nose and shot Lee a look of pure mischief. “Of that I never had any doubt. Good day to you, Mr. Adama.”
Lee watched as Lampkin exited the cabin, closing the hatch behind him.
Lee looked down at the kitten. The kitten looked back up at Lee.
“Mewr.”
That, Lee thought, pretty much said it all.
[][][]
Lee had never had a pet before, not a real one anyway. He tended not to count the blue shell turtle he’d had when he was eleven that had mysteriously escaped its terrarium, made its way outside the house and crossed into the street where it was perhaps predictably run over by a truck. Lee had never believed Zak’s repeated and vocal denials for a minute, but unable to prove otherwise had had no choice to let the matter drop. Of course, after that experience Lee’d been somewhat soured by the whole pet-ownership experience and decided not to repeat the incident, at least while Zak was around.
And then there’d been the academy and war college and postings to various battlestars, which left no opportunity to have a pet - not that Lee had even wanted one. Pets were like children in Lee’s mind: something better left to other people.
Except here he was with a small kitten and not the slightest clue how to care for her. He assumed she’d been weaned; Gods, he hoped so, otherwise they were both totally screwed. Water wouldn’t be a problem; surely a creature that small wouldn’t need much. Food, though…that would be a problem. Lee didn’t have the first notion of what cats ate, but then that really didn’t matter since the only thing available was processed algae. Lee didn’t know if she would eat it or if she could even digest it, but it would have to do. He wished he’d thought to ask all of this before Romo had left. Surely he would have the answers. Of course, Lee wouldn’t put it past the man to let Lee flounder around and figure it out himself. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d tossed Lee in the deep end of the pool expecting him to figure out how to swim or drown.
When Lee returned from the ship’s mess with his rations, he spooned a portion into the small bowl he’d managed to snag and set it on the floor in front of the kitten. She tottered over, sniffed daintily at the algae, looked up at Lee and squeaked.
“It’s food,” Lee explained, suddenly very grateful that he didn’t share quarters. She never would have let him live this down. Lee pushed that thought aside before the pain could settle in.
The kitten looked back at the food, then back at Lee and squeaked again in confusion. Lee knelt beside the dish and braced himself on his forearms until he was close to eye level with his new charge. “It’s food,” he explained again. “You eat it.”
“Mewr.”
That almost sounded like a question. Heaving a sigh, Lee leaned closer and mimicked eating from the dish. And now he was really glad that he lived alone. He flicked a glance at the kitten. She continued to sit on the other side of the dish, head tilted in curiosity, but made no effort to follow his example. Lee let out a frustrated breath and settled back to consider the problem. On impulse, he dipped his little finger into the algae pulp and held it out towards the kitten. She tilted her head to the other side then leaned in until her nose was pressed against his fingertip. She sniffed, once, twice, then began to lick the algae from his finger.
When his finger had been licked clean, she looked up at him again and meowed.
Lee grinned back. Dipping his finger into the algae again and again, he watched, enchanted, as the kitten lapped it up with delicate strokes of her tongue until the algae was gone.
He smiled at the kitten, feeling an odd sense of triumph. Perhaps this whole pet thing wasn’t so bad.
[][][]
It was the sound of mewling cries that woke him. Disoriented and fuzzy with sleep, it took Lee a minute to identify the source of the noise. He rolled onto his side and looked down to find the kitten sitting on the deck beside his rack wailing pitifully and looking up at him with pleading eyes.
“No,” he said firmly. “You have your own bed.” He pointed in the direction of the spare blanket that he’d folded up into a little nest in the corner.
The kitten mewled again, such an unhappy sound that Lee couldn’t help but flinch.
“There’s not enough room for both of us up here.” That was true enough. His rack - cot, he reminded himself, they didn’t have racks on civilian ships - was so narrow he barely fit on it himself. With a kitten, even a tiny one such as this, it would be uncomfortable.
The kitten mewled again.
“I’d roll over and squish you,” he explained, trying to be rational.
Another heartrending cry.
“I’m allergic to cats.”
That was an outright lie, of course. He knew it and he suspected even the kitten knew it since she hadn’t stopped her pitiful howling.
“Oh for the love of the Gods…” he muttered under his breath before scooping the kitten up off the floor and setting her on the cot beside him. Her wailing cut off abruptly. She gave a little snuffling sound and Lee thought that perhaps she’d just settle in next to him and that would be that.
He was wrong, of course.
With a suddenness that took him by surprise, the kitten jumped on to his stomach and proceeded to start kneading.
“Shit!” he hissed as tiny claws dug into his skin. He clenched his teeth and fought the temptation to pick her up by the scruff and set her back on the blanket folded in the corner, knowing that it would only set off another round of pitiful wailing. Nothing to do but grit his teeth and bear it.
Happily, she stopped after a minute, curling up into a tiny little ball to sleep. He could feel a soft vibration against his skin and realized that she was purring, content and quiescent once more. Lee shook his head, smiling in spite of himself and watched her sleep until he drifted off as well.
Lee woke a second time to a sense of pressure on his chest and something cold tickling his nose. He opened his eyes to find the kitten sitting on his chest with her little pink nose pressed to his. She blinked her eyes slowly, and continued to watch him, her gaze oddly appraising. Lee rubbed the grit from his eyes and glanced over at the clock beside his head, eyes widening when he read the time. He rubbed his eyes again, but it was no mistake. He’d had eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. He hadn’t slept the night through like that since…well, he couldn’t even recall. He looked up at the kitten who continued to regard him calmly.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Mewr.”
Lee smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He cradled her carefully to his chest as he sat up, legs swinging over the side. He half expected a fuss, but she seemed perfectly content to snuggle against him and truth be told, he didn’t mind it in the slightest. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest and she was soft and warm in his hand. Without thinking, he leaned down and rubbed his unshaven cheek against the top of her head, feeling the softness of her fur against his skin. She endured it without the slightest complaint and Lee smiled, really smiled, in a way that he hadn’t in a long, long time.
[][][]
Cohabitation was always a challenge. Lee had learned that lesson early on from sharing a bedroom with Zak, something they’d had to do on more than a few occasions growing in cramped military housing. Over the years that followed, there’d been roommates and rackmates and his wife…soon to be ex-wife…of course. The key to living with someone, he’d discovered, was patience, tolerance and above all respect. Everyone had their quirks, their own personal idiosyncrasies and the only way to live together was to recognize them and learn to accept them. And above all, give them their own space.
Dee had actually been easy to live with for the most part. She’d been happy to give him space, respecting his boundaries and his need for solitude, content to be with him but not needing his constant attention. It wasn’t until after she returned that Dee became clingy and needy, forcing Lee to flee his own home - their home - to find respite. The trial might have been the final wedge between them, but the marriage had been falling apart for a long time. If you can’t live with someone, how can you stay married? The answer, of course, was that you couldn’t, which was how he came to be here in the first place. When it came right down to it, though, she’d been a far better roommate than a wife.
And now, here he was, sharing quarters with another female and one who, it would appear, had no concept of personal space whatsoever. It was strange; Lee had always heard that cats were independent, aloof. Standoffish. Apparently his kitten hadn’t gotten the memo. She wanted to be near him almost constantly. She categorically refused to sleep in the bed he’d made for her on the deck. Lee had given up on that after the second night, which had been a repeat of the first, complete with pitiful mewling cries and pleading kitten eyes. She might only be seven weeks old, but she’d mastered the art of the guilt trip with the ease of an old hand. The problem, of course, was that you can’t reason with a kitten. She wants what she wants and that’s that and all the logic in the worlds won’t sway her course. And apparently what she wanted was to be around Lee. Constantly. It was frustrating but also kind of flattering. At least someone wanted him, even if it was only a kitten.
So, the kitten slept with him every night, sprawled across his belly, or curled up against his side, purring softly. He grew accustomed to the almost negligible weight of her, learned to tolerate the sharp edged claws digging into his skin as she kneaded him like her own personal pin cushion. It was becoming familiar, soothing almost, even though she squeaked in protest whenever he jostled her or tried to roll over. He still hand fed her, holding her cradled to his chest while she licked algae pulp from his fingers. He’d have to wean her from that eventually. But not yet.
Of course, some of her habits were less endearing. Like her insistence upon sitting on any stray piece of paper, especially of it was one Lee was reading/needed at that particular moment. No sooner would he set a sheet of paper or a folder aside than she was there sitting right on top of it. He’d pick her up and set her somewhere else, earning him an indignant squawk, but the second his attention wandered, she was back. Lee was half convinced that she’d made it her personal mission to insure that every piece of paper in his quarters was at least partially wrinkled. She was quite thorough.
Lee had to remind himself that she was a just kitten, a baby really, and that she liked to play. So he tried not to get frustrated when she started batting at his pen (he’d learned to be very careful about where he set it down; while it might be fun for her to whack it around, it wasn’t nearly as entertaining for him to fish it out from beneath his cot afterwards). At times, he would wad up a used sheet of paper and toss it on the deck and watch, amused, as she launched herself after it, batting at it and pouncing on her poor unsuspecting prey with manic glee, the mighty huntress on the prowl.
Then there was her favorite trick, which involved climbing up Lee’s pant’s leg. Too small to jump any significant height as yet she had to rely on climbing and had chosen Lee as her personal ladder. And, OK, he had to admit it was kind of cute, with the exception of the whole ‘razor sharp claws digging into his legs’ part, of course. It was strangely fascinating to watch her climb up his leg with all the fierce determination of a marine sergeant leading an assault, her little face scrunched up in concentration. When she finally reached his lap - her usual destination - she’d give him a look that he could only describe as smug. Mission accomplished.
She was an utterly fearless creature, he soon came to realize. She would, on occasion, tumble to the deck or crash into a bulkhead in the course of one of her frenzied games, but apart from a startled squeak, she simply picked herself up and dove back into whatever she’d been doing with renewed enthusiasm. Lee couldn’t help but admire that about her, and envy her for it. Of course, it helped to have nine lives stretching out before you (how many lives had he himself already used up? Too many, far too many). And the ability to always land on one’s feet was one he didn’t been gifted with, as his current situation made painfully clear.
But the best times were the quiet ones. She liked to sit in his lap while he poured over his grandfather’s law books. Sometimes she’d lean forward and rest her paws on the open book, looking for all the world like she was reading along with him (and given how clever she was, Lee wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t), but more often, she’d just curl up and sleep, her soft, rumbly purr vibrating against his leg. Lee would stroke her fur absently while he read, her purrs growing even louder in approval.
Lee was deep into one of his grandfather’s law books when there was a knock on the hatch. Lee’s hand stilled and the kitten raised her head, reacting either to the sound or to the cessation of petting and looked up at Lee, head tilted as if in query.
“Looks like we’ve got company,” he told her as he set aside his book and lifted her off his lap. She mad a disapproving noise as he deposited her on the bed, but settled down without further fuss as Lee went to answer the hatch.
He couldn’t imagine who it might be. It wasn’t like he had many friends. Or any for that matter. The ship’s inhabitants had started to warm up to him for the most part; he’d even begun to have conversations with his fellow passengers on occasion. Nothing of consequence, just small talk, but it was a good start he decided. And any conversation that didn’t involve either Baltar or his father was fine by him.
Thinking perhaps it was Romo, he opened the hatch only to be shocked speechless by the sight of his soon-to-be ex-wife.
Wonderful.
“Dee,” he greeted courteously, trying to ignore the sour look on her face.
“Can I come in?”
No. That was his first thought. He didn’t want her here and he certainly didn’t want to have the conversation he knew was coming. Of course, what he wanted and what he actually got had rarely been the same thing. Besides, if she was here for the reason he thought, this was one conversation better held behind closed doors.
“Of course,” he replied, stepping aside to allow her entrance, eyes following the stiff line of her back. He closed the hatch and opened his mouth to speak but he never got the chance as Dee’s eyes fell on his kitten.
Her expression changed from disapproval to childlike delight in the space of a heartbeat. “Oh my Gods, Lee! It’s a kitten!” She smiled, moving closer. “Oooooh, look at you! Aren’t you the sweetest little thing? Yes, you are! What’s her name?”
Lee was trying so hard not to cringe at the sudden shift into baby-talk that he almost missed the question Dee had directed at him. The question he couldn’t answer because he’d never actually gotten around to giving her a name. She’d just been “her” or “his kitten.” He’d never even thought to give her a name until now. Before he could make that embarrassing confession, however, Dee, still cooing softly, reached out presumably to pet the kitten. Except it didn’t turn out that way.
The moment Dee’s hand approached, the kitten did the most startling thing. She reared back, ears flat against her head and hissed. Loudly. Dee froze momentarily, clearly shocked, then it was her turn to rear back as the kitten swiped at her, claws extended.
Lee’s eyes darted back and forth between the kitten still hissing and spitting and Dee who had sucked her finger into her mouth to staunch the bleeding.
Dee glared at Lee. “She scratched me!” Dee said, her voice thick with accusation. Torn between embarrassment and concern, he scooped up the kitten and cradled her against his chest. She was clearly agitated; he could feel her heart pounding in her chest. He petted her gently with his free hand to calm her down.
“Sorry,” he said confounded. “She’s never done that before. I guess she doesn’t like strangers.”
Dee’s face darkened, but Lee ignored her. It occurred to him in that moment he actually felt a greater affinity to the kitten currently snuggled against his chest than he did this woman with whom he’d shared his bed and his life for so many months. That was frakked up, he supposed, but it didn’t make it any less true. He placed a light kiss on the top of the kitten’s head then turned his attention back to his wife.
“What can I do for you, Dee?”
Drawing an enveloped from her uniform jacket, she scowled at him. “What the hell are these?”
Lee resisted the urge to sigh. “I would have thought that was obvious. It’s a request for a legal separation.”
“I can’t believe you started divorce proceedings without even consulting me!”
Lee felt a flare of anger, but tamped down on it at once. He was tired of fighting. “I thought you’d made your wishes quite clear when you left me.”
She flushed from guilt or embarrassment, maybe both, but she wasn’t willing to back down. “That didn’t mean I wanted to throw our whole marriage away!” she snapped. “You left Galactica without a word to me or your father, after throwing your career away and defending that…that monster!”
Lee shook his head. “I told you why I did that and you were quite adamant in your disapproval. If you’re looking for an apology, then I’m sorry. I don’t regret anything I did. Not then and not now.”
“What about our marriage?”
“What marriage?” he shot back, some of his anger, his sense of betrayal bleeding through. “Marriage is for better or for worse. When everyone else turned their backs on me, I thought at least you’d stand beside me. I was wrong.”
Lips thinned in a disapproving line, Dee shook her head in denial. “I don’t know who you are anymore, Lee.”
This time he did sigh. “And that’s the problem. I was always this man, Dee, you just never noticed.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “I can’t change who I am. I don’t need or want your approval. All I ask for is your understanding.”
He took a step closer then paused as the kitten made a low growling noise. “I can’t be the man you want me to be. Apollo, the CAG, the Commander, that was always a façade. This is the real me, Dee. This is who I am. I’m done pretending otherwise. Is that enough for you? Am I enough for you?”
He stood there waiting for her response. She didn’t say a word; she didn’t need to. The answer was written across her face. Lee watched as Dee pulled out the papers and signed her name at the bottom, putting an end to their marriage. Lee knew he should probably feel more broken up about it, but he just felt relief that it was over.
“You’re a wonderful woman, Dee. I hope you find someone who loves you like you deserve to be loved. I want you to be happy.”
Dee nodded. She raised her chin, standing proud and composed, but Lee could see the faint tremble to her lips and the sheen of tears in her eyes that she wouldn’t allow to fall in his presence. “Goodbye, Lee.”
“Goodbye, Dee.”
Lee watched as his wife - ex-wife now - walked out of his cabin and his life for good. It would probably be a long time before he saw her again. Maybe by then she’ll have moved on and found someone to make her happy. He truly hoped so.
“Mewr.”
Lee looked down at the soft, almost querying sound. The kitten gazed up at him with uncomplicated affection. He smiled down at her and scratched the space between her ears. She purred contentedly.
“Thanks for standing up for me,” he said softly. He was being ridiculous, he knew, attributing emotions and motives to an animal like this. But it had felt nice having someone take his side, even if it was only a kitten. It was a sad commentary on his life when a kitten seemed to have more faith in him than his own wife and father.
“You’re quite the fierce little warrior.”
She meowed in response.
“You know, I never even gave you a name. That was a terrible oversight on my part, wasn’t it?” He scratched her ears again before holding her up so he could look right at her. “I think I’ll call you Artemis. She was always looking out for Apollo, too, you know. Would you like that?”
Another soft meow. He cradled her against him again and sat down on the bed, shifting until his back was pressed against the bulkhead and his legs were stretched out in front of him. He set her in his lap to allow her some freedom. She walked in a circle once, twice, then dropped to sprawl across his thighs. He stroked his hand down the length of her spine, his touch slow and gentle, making her go completely boneless.
“Of course, I’m not Apollo anymore,” he told her, not that she could understand. He tipped his head back and stared at the bulkhead above. “Truth is, I never was. It was always just a joke. And not a very good one. But I kind of like the idea of Artemis watching over me. Even a small, furry version”
Her only reply was a loud purr.
part 2