Exit Music for A Planet (The Sign Here Remix), for hobbit_kate
Title: Exit Music for A Planet (The Sign Here Remix)
Author: millari
Summary: Four times Felix Gaeta got President Baltar to sign something on New Caprica (and one time he didn't).
Characters: Gaeta, Baltar, Zarek
Pairing: Gaeta/Baltar
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: rimming, light BDSM
Title/Author of Original Story: Seeds I Plant Will Grow by hobbit_kate
Author Notes: Thanks to hobbit_kate for participating in this remix and giving me an excuse to explore more of her fic!
**
“... Mister President, we've got quite a full agenda this morning.”
Gaius Baltar, dressed impeccably in a black suit jacket, straightens his tie and greets his chief of staff with an efficient but friendly smile. “Good morning, Mister Gaeta,” he says, reminding Gaeta to go through the pleasantries before just getting down to business. “You're up early.”
Gaeta doesn't bother to state the obvious - that the President is up even earlier. He's always up earlier than everyone, claiming that first daylight is the perfect time to get the most odious tasks out of the way …
**
1. An Appeal to Patriotism
“She's just going to turn the children of this settlement against me, you know.”
Felix rolls his eyes with a grin. “Really, Gaius? That's your argument? You really think Laura Roslin wants to start a school to ruin your chances of future re-election?”
He's turning out to be a pretty good president, but Gaius has this weird bias against his former boss, Laura Roslin. Felix never has gotten the courage up to ask why, exactly.
“Well, perhaps not consciously,” Gaius admits after a moment.
Felix presses his advantage and pushes the document in front of him across the desk. Gaius sits slightly slumped in the plush leather chair of the President. It's the end of the day, and the light is fading fast through the small portholes of Colonial One. Felix notes how the shadows cast his lover's face into an light that makes him look weary, and reaches over to run a sympathetic, affectionate thumb against Gaius' jawline. Gaius smiles at him and raises his eyebrows suggestively. Felix merely chuckles.
Sometimes he can't believe that after all this time of pining after him, Gaius has turned out to love him back. Nor can he believe that this crazy dream he has followed down to New Caprica has all worked out far better than he could have hoped for.
You're on the job right now, he chides himself. Focus.
“You don't have to like her to sign this,” he insists with new resolve. “Just think of it as for the kids, not her, all right?” He carefully places Gaius' favorite pen at the base of the document, somehow hoping it will be an inducement. But Gaius only folds his arms in closed-off annoyance.
“Oh for frak's sake, why does everybody always pull that argument out - think of the children - as if it's a full colors hand?” He scowls. “That woman tried to steal an election. I thought you of all people would take my side on this.”
“I'm on the people's side,” Felix replies patiently. “Come on, Gaius. It's a school. A tent with whatever classroom materials we can scrounge up. Tom is in favor of this. I'm in favor of it.”
“I'm all in favor of a school, Felix. But surely we can find someone more suitable.”
“More suitable than the former minister of education?” He raises his eyebrows. Gaius says nothing.
“All we have left is the Pegasus' knowledge database and the minds of the remaining populace,” he presses, “who I might remind you, have declined in number each year.”
Gaius sighs and pulls out one of his little brown cigarettes from a box on his desk. On auto-pilot, Felix's hand flies into his jacket pocket and pulls out a lighter. He watches the man light the cigarette and take a slow, satisfied first drag, and he senses an opening.
“Just think about if you had never been born on Caprica, Gaius, with all the opportunities to be educated. Think about the valuable mind we would have lost, how we might not have survived the Cylon attacks. Now think about when you die? Who's going to be the next Gaius Baltar?”
Something that was well … Presidential in Gaius's face lights up at that.
“It's imperative that we start educating our children as quickly as possible,” he insists, “before we lose more precious, irretrievable information.”
Gaius scoffs quietly into his glass, and Felix fears for a moment that he has oversold it. “I'm not sure this school is all that, love,” he murmurs into the next drag.
But to Felix's relief, he blows out a long draught of smoke, then picks up the pen.
**
“... Don't forget that you have the People's Council meeting today at 1400 hours. They're expecting an update on the state of the apartment complex,” Gaeta begins, and President Baltar adds with a nod: “We've got the builder's union at 1100 as well, no? I hope you got around to those food estimates, by the way. I'll need them for the negotiations. We can't give awayall the rations to the union, now can we?”
“No, sir.” Gaeta suppresses a small smile, having just noticed that the President has a pencil stuck behind his ear. Felix finds it endearing. Really, he can't believe how much he is still seriously attracted to the man. He had thought seeing Gaius Baltar every single day talking about mundane politics would finally cure him of this one-sided crush, but it hasn't. Still, Felix knows the smart thing is to keep things in check, and never let on. The sexual tension it would introduce into their work relationship would be such a bad idea.
“Anything else?” Baltar asks, impatient to return to his report ...
**
2. The Hard Facts
“What am I even doing here?” Gaius whispers hoarsely through the biting cold, huddling closer into his long, formal trenchcoat. “How did I ever let you convince me to come all the way out here in the dead of night like this?”
What else, the promise of sex, Felix snarks inwardly. Frankly, he is pleasantly surprised that his ruse has even worked. He is pretty sure the last time that Gaius has gone outside of Colonial One was at the apartment groundbreaking ceremony four months ago.
“We've been together now for five months, and you have never once come to see where I live.” Felix sets his shoulders back with manufactured righteousness. In truth, Felix prefers sex with Gaius on Colonial One: it's a lot more comfortable, and when Gaius gets frustrating to deal with, Felix likes being able to get away and having his own tent to go to. But tonight, he has a plan.
“I'm putting my foot down,” he declares into the slight wind that has picked up during the night. “If you want sex tonight, we're doing it here.”
Gaius' murmured complaints snake their way through the winding path of endless, identical, olive drab tents. When they somehow reach Felix's, he holds the flap open for Gaius with ironic gallantry.
“This is how you live?” Gaius blinks with undisguised horror as Felix sparks the tylium lantern alight and the sparse accommodations appear before his eyes.
“It's how everybody lives, Gaius,” he says pointedly. “Everybody except you and Tom.”
Felix sees his mouth twist with surprise in the flickering light. Good, he thinks as he opens the ore stove and stokes the coals back into action, thawing his hands over the radiant heat. Maybe he's getting the picture. “Come,” he cajoles Gaius, who still stands near the tent's entrance, reluctant. “The stove's still giving off some warmth; it'll get better soon.”
Gaius shuffles across the dirt floor. “It's like a bloody icebox in here,” he hisses. “You truly expect me to take off my clothes under these conditions?”
Feeling emboldened on his home turf, Felix grabs him and pulled him into a proprietary kiss that makes clear what he thinks about the matter.
In the end, Gaius does take off his clothes, in a fevered, enthusiastic rush to possess Felix's body, even though Felix can feel small shivers that he is pretty sure aren't Gaius' arousal. Taken out of his own element, Gaius is just slightly thrown off - a little less confident, a little more open to moves Felix wants to try. And the conditions have the added benefit of Gaius curling up in his arms under the blankets afterward, trying to stay warm.
“All right, I'll admit,” Gaius says spontaneously after they have lain together a while enjoying the post-coital bliss. “The change of venue was a good idea, for one night anyway.” He kisses Felix's shoulder.
Felix nibbles at his ear. “Yes, well, you get to go back to Colonial One,” he says softly. “But for the thousands of people you brought here, this is their daily lives.”
Gaius harrumphs disagreeably and pulls away. Damn, Felix thinks. Too much. Now he's defensive.
“We have to get going on those apartment buildings,” he says quickly, trying to capitalize on what might be left of Gaius' good will. “It's going to get even colder soon.”
“Love,” Gaius objects, “I keep telling you: that one's not my fault. What am I supposed to do if the labor union hands me a bad faith contract to sign?”
“The only concession they're asking for is more food,” Felix retorts, realizing that they are going to have this argument now, like it or not, and there is nothing he can do about it. “They're going to be working twelve-hour shifts to get those buildings up. That requires strength. It's not exactly unreasonable to demand a little more food than the rest of the population while they do that.”
“It's extortion, is what it is,” Gaius grumbles, and Felix knows for sure he's lost him. “I won't give into it. We'll be depriving others.”
Felix can't help the angry, frustrated sigh. Winter is coming. “Yes, but only for a couple of months, and I guarantee you the people will think it's worth it if they have warm homes to sleep in this winter. Those apartments could still go up before the cold really settles in, if we start now.”
“We still have time,” Gaius assures him. “In fact, I'm glad you brought me here tonight, even though I know I resisted it at first.”
Felix stares at him through the flickering light. “You are?”
“Yes, I am. I'll admit that I've been rather cut off from the populace as of late. But this ...” He casts his glance around to indicate the tent. “... this is valuable ammunition in our battle with Tyrol's union.”
“Our ...? Felix echoes in astonishment. “I've been telling you to give them the concessions all along ...”
Gaius plants an enthusiastic, almost manic kiss square on Felix's lips. “Don't you see?” he says with something akin to glee in his voice. “Now that I know what it's like here, I can see how the builders can't afford to wait.”
“We can't afford to wait,” comes Felix's crisp correction, but it's almost immediately immured within Gaius' oblivious rambling.
“The builders live here too,” he continues on, “so they know all too well the deadline they're facing before winter comes. They must know they can't obstruct negotiations much longer. Don't you see? Their capitulation is inevitable!”
Felix's expression turns hostile. “This is insane.” He rises up to a sitting position, sloughing Gaius off his body. “You have to sign that contract. People are going to start dying soon.”
“You do have a flair for the melodramatic sometimes,” he smiles as if Felix hasn't said anything worth listening to. “And you worry too much. We just have to hold our ground a bit longer. The union won't have any choice but to give up their demands.” He bolts up out of the bed and makes a search for his trousers. “Tell me,” he says as he does them up, “exactly where is the head around here?”
Wordless with anger, Felix points in the general direction of the outdoor latrine. “There's a solar night light at the top,” he finally manages. “You can't miss it.”
And then he is gone, and Felix is left still processing what just happened, all his best plans mislaid. Furious with Gaius, with himself, he bangs his head in self-castigation against the post of his cot. What the frak was he going to do now? Gaius would be more stubbornly resolute than ever. And what if Tyrol was counting on the same capitulation in Gaius and they both ended up waiting for each other to cave - until winter came and people started dying?
He lies back down in the shivering cold, the blanket thrown off his naked body like a subconscious penance. Why can't he make any of them see reason?
He hears the rustle of the tent flap all too soon.
“Felix!” Gaius' urgent whisper filters through his consciousness, but Felix doesn't bother to open his eyes.
“Yeah, what do you want?”
There is a barely perceptible pause before he answers. “Where's the real head?” he hisses.
“What?” he murmurs. “What are you talking about?”
“All I could find was the temporary one, you know the kind you find on a construction site. Where's the real one?”
Felix's eyes flash open. “The real one? That is the real one. There's only one.”
He can almost feel the weight of dismay in Gaius' voice in the dark. “Surely you can't be serious.”
“Of course I'm serious.”
“But it's a hole in the ground.”
“It's a field latrine, Gaius. What did you expect?”
A moment of silence passes. “Well …” he hesitates. “... I can't use it.”
Felix snorts in annoyance. “Well, it's your only choice.”
“But it's a hole in the ground!”
“Haven't you ever taken a piss behind a building before? What's the big deal?”
Another bout of silence. “That's not the business I need to take care of,” he says pointedly.
“Oh.” The issue finally registers for him. Felix doesn't know whether to laugh or be annoyed. “Well, what do you expect me to do about it?”
“Well, what do you do in this situation?”
Felix rolls his eyes in the darkness. “I use the latrine.”
“This is really the only choice?” Gaius asks in obvious disbelief. “Squatting over a hole in the ground in the middle of the night?”
Felix exhales with a weary sigh. “Yeah, well, welcome to life in New Caprica City, Gaius.”
Gaius grunts. “Well, this is intolerable. I'm off to Colonial One and a real head.” He draws on his trenchcoat and buttons it up all the way to the collar. He turns back and glances at Felix, still lying on the cot. “Come back with me,” he suggests. “It's inhumane here. There's no reason for you to live like this. I'm sure we can find you a room in Colonial One.”
Felix closes his eyes again. Definitely annoyed, he decides. “To be honest, Gaius, I'd really rather not.”
A final bit of silence. “Oh.” The word drops before them like an anvil. “I see.” But Felix has no sympathy for Gaius right now; he just wants him to leave. He folds his arms across his chest and says nothing until he hears the soft thud of the tent flap falling closed.
He lies there in the darkness for a good couple of hours, his mind racing with worry about the union negotiations, about whether they have managed to grow enough food to last them until spring, about winter kicking in, and about if he's made a huge mistake getting involved with Gaius Baltar.
This last worry in particular nags at him in the morning light as he trudges through the familiar muddy pathways towards Colonial One.
They never talk about the two-page document Felix finds waiting for him on his desk, signed with Gaius' usual imperious flourish. Felix just makes sure to get the rations to Tyrol's men before Gaius changes his mind.
In retrospect, Felix could see how it was the beginning of the end.
**
“ ...Well, there is a small supply issue.” Gaeta checks off another item on his clipboard. “It's not a problem yet, but it will be soon.”
“Well, let's hear it. You know my policy: Bad news first.”
“Well, sir, I know you don't like to have to bother Admiral Adama when we can manage well enough on our own, but I think you're going to want to see this.” He turns the clipboard upside down and hands it over to the President ...
**
3. Sex
Gaius can't believe Felix has never suggested this before, in all the eight months that they've been together now. It's amazing - the feel of his lover's soft, wet tongue circling round the rim of his anus, Felix's strong, warm hands spreading his cheeks open - it's utterly intoxicating. They haven't had sex like this in months.
Some days he wishes he had never seen this planet - the tedious politics, the endless demands on his time and attention, the constant anger directed at him no matter what he did. Some days he wishes he had never listened to Tom's proposal that he run for President.
But not today.
He whimpers with desperate need as Felix removes his tongue. A finger, slick with cold lube, pushes inside him, slow and inexorable, hesitating at the entrance. “Anything I want?” Felix confirms.
Gaius groans at the very idea that he might withdraw now.
“Yes, yes!” he cries. “Oh God, yes. Just please, don't stop!”
“You beg far more prettily than I would have guessed.” There's something cold in that praise that Gaius can't quite place, but right now he doesn't care to explore it. Right now, his chief of staff has him tied to his own bed, spread-eagled and kneeling on the sheets, blindfolded and utterly helpless. For once, he feels utterly devoid of power and responsibility, and it is oddly glorious.
This was the deal they made, half-jokingly at first, until Gaius kept pushing to make it serious, until Felix got over his initial haughtiness about it, and was able to see how it was a win-win situation for the both of them. Gaius doesn't even remember what Felix might want from him, but it doesn't really matter, because the way Felix is stroking into him now, pushing his finger in ever deeper and twisting, he supposes he would have agreed to almost anything.
Another finger is added, the thrusts both swift and sure and constant, and Gaius thinks he might come then and there, but just as he's truly close, Felix's fingers stop and scissor open with unexpected strength, spreading him even more open, so that Gaius can feel the hint of a cold draft against his sphincter. His muscles contract and he cries out again, pushing back into Felix's hand, desperate to come, silently pleading for release.
“Anything I want?” Felix repeats, and Gaius can hear him kneeling down. A second later, his tongue is there again, warm and wet, taking miniscule strokes over exposed spots that are so sensitive, Gaius can't even think straight, doesn't want to think straight.
“For frak's sake,” he growls in impatience. “Make me come already, will you?”
Felix doesn't say anything more, which suits Gaius just fine. It's less to concentrate on as Felix starts up again, his fingers pushing up inside him with rough determination now. The combination of the velvet warmth of the lube and the merciless thrusts is so perfect, Gaius knows he will give Felix any sexual favor he wants in return, even if it doesn't do anything for him at all.
He comes in the total darkness of the blindfold, his climax heralded by an almost inhuman, high-pitched whine from the back of his throat. He is a shuddering, exploding mess, and his body slams several times against all four ropes until he collapses into them in total, exhausted submission.
“Remember, you promised.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” he pants. “Whatever you want.” He feels the blindfold ripped off him, and his wrists quickly untied, and to his shock, a paper on a clipboard is placed carefully in front of him.
“Oh you must be joking,” he half-laughs, half-complains as he sees the letter to Adama begging for more medical supplies. “I told you I wouldn't sign that.”
“Anything I wanted, you said,” Felix reminds him, his expression closed off and efficient. In a flash of shock and chagrin, Gaius finally understands how things are between them now.
His breaths coming out hoarse and shallow, he signs, eager to get it over with.
**
“... Well, if we've got to ask him, we've got to ask him,” the President says, after looking over Felix's briefing. “We can't put my pride ahead of the people's safety.”
“Of course not, Mister President. ...”
**
4. Nostalgia
Felix closes the curtain behind him.
“Not what you expected, is he?”
He startles at the sight of Tom Zarek unexpectedly before him, leaning against the bulkhead like the cat who ate the canary, a smug witness to Felix's humiliation.
“Mr. Vice-President,” he greets with as much cold disdain as he can muster in his surprise. Zarek had made it extremely clear months ago what he thought of Felix for sleeping with Gaius. The two men haven't shared more than a few sentences that weren't absolutely necessary ever since.
“We both know procuring whores for Baltar isn't what you signed up for, Felix.” Zarek's voice is confident yet jaded, and Felix realizes how much it reminds him of his own. It didn't use to be that way. New Caprica has ground a weariness into both men.
“You're the one who procured her,” he snaps, embarrassed. “I'm just the … butler.” He doesn't want to be having this conversation at all. “What do you want?”
“He needs to sign that order, allow people back on the ships,” Zarek says calmly. He's bound and determined to press this point forever, Felix thinks, as if he doesn't really understand that there's no way that Gaius will agree to it. A dozen shouting matches between the three of them haven't changed anything, so he doesn't know why Zarek thinks that plotting with Felix behind Gaius' back will either.
“What makes you think I can convince him?” By which they both know he means: We don't frak anymore. I might as well be invisible unless he wants booze or pills or women.
“I know you can't,” Zarek says, imperturbable, all business. “But you could let him sign it later tonight, when he's more … receptive.” He glances towards the curtain, and Felix wonders if this had been Zarek's plan all along.
For a moment, they let the idea sit between them.
“Are you crazy?” Felix finally hisses. “That's a coup!”
Zarek sighs, with an inevitable air, as if he's waiting for Felix to grow up.
“I'll be here when you change your mind.”
Felix's expression conveys exactly what he knows it should at the proposition - outrage, disbelief. But he knows that for a moment, a dangerous moment, he did consider it.
His moral resolve comes through gritted teeth. “I won't.There are some things I won't do.”
“Haven't you already?” Zarek shrugs and begins walking towards the exit. They both know Gaius will be too occupied the rest of the night to need either of them for anything. He pauses at the doorway, a warning thrown over his shoulder. “You know we can't go on like this much longer, Gaeta.”
Felix falls into one of the room's sofas, trying to decide whether the rare opportunity for uninterrupted work time is worth having to overhear the sounds of Gaius and that woman frakking. He closes his eyes with a sigh. “Good night, Mr. Vice-President.”
Zarek shuts the door to Colonial One behind him without a word.
“You've got to be kidding!” Felix hears a sharp female voice rising from the bedroom. “I just got here!”
Before Felix can extricate himself from the sofa, Gaius is there in the room, hustling the honey-blonde out by the arm, his voice rasped from drink and cigarettes. He seems to be refusing to look at her, and his words are strangely choked, as if holding back some strong emotion.
“It's a very nice offer, I'm sure,” he manages, continuing to push her towards the exit. “But I'm afraid I'll have to decline.”
By the time they reach the doorway, the woman shakes him off in disgust, straightens up, and pushes back her shoulder-length, slightly waved ringlets, and Felix gets a good look at her: She is fairly pretty - tall, long-legged, a narrow, angular face like a fashion model's. She even looks vaguely familiar, although Felix can't quite put his finger on where he might have seen her before. At any rate, he's surprised: she should have been a no-questions conquest for Gaius. Felix has certainly seen less-attractive women pass successfully through that curtain.
Her gaze falls upon him sitting on the sofa. “What are you looking at?” she spits, an obvious attempt to regain her dignity. Her angrily clicking heels are the only sound in the room as she takes her leave.
He looks back at Gaius, who startles as if embarrassed to have Felix witness this. “Mister Gaeta,” he mutters the name without any real intention behind it, and goes back to the credenza for the bottle of ambrosia.
Felix watches him pour and feels the anger rising within him. He can't resist the bitter jab:
“Well, that was quick,” he mocks. “So what was wrong with her? Not young enough? Not blonde enough?”
“Too blonde, actually,” Gaius cuts him off between sips. Felix doesn't know what to make of an actual reply, and is startled into silence. “Bad associations,” Gaius elaborates, but it doesn't really explain much.
He gulps down the whole glass of straight ambrosia with a pained expression as it goes down. “Where the frak did Tom find her, anyway? She was so thin she looked like she would break if I touched her - like a frakking prisoner of war.”
“That's because she was hungry,” Felix says, unable not to go there, even though he knows it will do no good. “Everybody's hungry nowadays, and it's only going to get worse. We need to accept that this planet is a failed experiment and make preparations to return to the Fleet ...”
“New Caprica is not a failure!” Gaius exclaims, alcohol sloshing perilously at the edges of his glass, his voice one part emphatic and two parts hysterical. “I promised the people soil beneath their feet! I promised them a new beginning! I won't betray them!”
The man stumbles towards his desk. He sits in the chair, a morose expression on his face as he slides his body forward and lays his head down.
Felix blinks in shock at the outburst. “Get some sleep, Mister President,” he eventually says, pulling himself up in one motion off the sofa, and turning toward the exit, even though he doesn't look forward to the cold walk back to his tent. But before he can reach the door, the President's voice calls out across the room.
“Stay,” he says, with a subtle undertone that is an unmistakable plea. He adds, as if a momentary afterthought: “Felix.”
Felix freezes at the doorknob. Please don't, Gaius. Slowly he turns around and tries to keep his tone carefully neutral.
“What is it, Mister President?”
Gaius purses his lips and stares at him for a long, confusing moment. “Felix,” he repeats, his voice adopting an academic quality Felix hasn't heard in what seems like a very long time. “Do you think that the Kobol Paradox can ever be solved?”
“Excuse me?” Felix asks, eyebrows raised.
Gaius repeats the question, and Felix can see now how his erudite tone is mostly manufactured and is hitching slightly with desperation. He stares in disbelief, then picks up the bait, not really sure why he does. It's been so long, it's a challenge to even get back into that kind of academic mindset.
“Not without a lot more research into photon travel and astrophysics,” he replies. “No one can possibly understand it until we figure out why gravity plays an obvious role.”
Gaius nods sagely, as if Felix has said something intriguing, when actually, he's really just parroting ideas half-forgotten from his college textbooks.
“True, true,” he agrees. “You know, I've always had a theory about Kobol's Paradox, but I could never work out how to prove it conclusively. He smiles wanly. “Astrophysical math was never my strong suit. You're much better at it than I am.”
Felix's eyes widen with surprise at the compliment. Gaius has never admitted to anything like that before.
“Thank you, Doctor Baltar,” he says automatically, taken back to an earlier, relatively more innocent time. Gaius genuinely smiles back at him, because they both know what just happened for a moment.
It's enough of an opening to keep them talking about science and then generally, life before all this, although they never once mention the attacks. They both seem to know that it will ruin something fragile they have constructed together.
“Well,” Felix says, after about an hour has passed. “We should probably both get some sleep. Busy day tomorrow.”
Gaius nods in assent, as if again, Felix has said something very wise. “Yes, busy day,” he echoes, watching Felix zipping up his jacket. “Are you sure you want to go out there?” he asks tentatively. He peers out the porthole across from his desk. “It must be beastly cold out there.”
Felix pauses in surprise. They both know what he means.
“I think it's for the best,” he finally replies.
“Of course, of course,” Gaius clears his throat and scatters through some documents on his desk. “By the way, where is that thing you wanted me to sign yesterday?”
“The executive order?” he asks, amazed. “The one allowing people back into the Fleet?”
A dismissive hand waves at him. “No, no, I'm not signing that.” He tosses papers aside in his search. “The one from yesterday … the one with the … Ah!”
He extracts a single-page document from the messy piles on his desk, grabs a pen and signs it, then dangles it towards Felix.
Eyes narrowed with confusion, Felix takes it and recognizes a document he indeed wanted Gaius to sign yesterday - an order to send Galactica's raptors on a search for more food resources on the planet. They need it desperately, especially if they're not going anywhere anytime soon. Gaius has been dragging his feet on signing it, insofar as Felix could tell, out of stubborn pride; he doesn't want Adama to know they are running out of food.
“Thank you, Gaius,” he says, though he knows gratitude is not what he should feel. The President of the Colonies nods acknowledgement, then does his best to avoid looking at Felix anymore. Felix takes the cue to leave, dropping off the document at his desk before he exits. He'll contact Galactica first thing in the morning.
The Vice-President is right. In the long run, they have to go back, even if Galactica does help them find food so they can hold out a little while longer. Felix once believed in the dream of New Caprica, but now he sees how it was just a dream. Gaius stubbornly refuses to see that. What if he never sees it?
In his mind's eye, he gets a flash image of Zarek leaning against the bulkhead. How long do the two of them wait for Gaius to come to his senses?
And when they are through with waiting, what then?
**
5. And One Time He Didn't
“Mister President, we've got quite a full agenda this morning.”
Gaius Baltar, dressed impeccably in a black suit jacket, straightens his tie and greets his chief of staff with an efficient but friendly smile. “Good morning, Mister Gaeta,” he says, reminding Gaeta to go through the pleasantries before just getting down to business. “You're up early.”
Gaeta doesn't bother to state the obvious - that the President is up even earlier. He's always up earlier than everyone, claiming that first daylight is the perfect time to get the most odious tasks out of the way.
“Don't forget that you have the People's Council meeting today at 1400 hours. They're expecting an update on the state of the apartment complex,” Gaeta begins, and President Baltar adds with a nod: “We've got the builder's union at 1100 as well, no? I hope you got around to those food estimates, by the way. I'll need them for the negotiations. We can't give awayallthe rations to the union, now can we?”
“No, sir.” Gaeta suppresses a small smile, having just noticed that the President has a pencil stuck behind his ear. Felix finds it endearing. Really, he can't believe how much he is still seriously attracted to the man. He had thought seeing Gaius Baltar every single day talking about mundane politics would finally cure him of this one-sided crush, but it hasn't. Still, Felix knows the smart thing is to keep things in check, and never let on. The sexual tension it would introduce into their work relationship would be such a bad idea.
“Anything else?” Baltar asks, impatient to return to his report.
“Well, there is a small supply issue.” Gaeta checks off another item on his clipboard. “It's not a problem yet, but it will be soon.”
“Well, let's hear it. You know my policy: Bad news first.”
“Well, sir, I know you don't like to have to bother Admiral Adama when we can manage well enough on our own, but I think you're going to want to see this.” He turns the clipboard upside down and hands it over to the President.
“Well, if we've got to ask him, we've got to ask him,” Baltar says, after looking over Felix's briefing. “We can't put my pride ahead of the people's safety.”
“Of course not, Mister President.”
“If only he were ever actually like that,” Felix mutters to himself, hand poised over the executive order he has typed up himself in secret. He has been sitting at his desk for the last hour and half, wrestling with a weighty decision. The squeals of garish laughter and throaty moans wafting from the Presidential bedroom are a soundtrack to his dilemma.
He hears a glass fall and smash in the bedroom, followed by a moment of silence, then, more racuous laughter; it gives Felix the resolve he needs. A moment later, the document is signed, in perfect mimcry of Gaius' overblown signature, which Felix knows so well by now, he could have been forging official documents for months.
But no matter how much he has been tempted by the idea, even as Gaius has taken them all further and further downhill these past thirteen months, Felix never has done it. Not until today.
But Tom is right. The survival of humanity is perhaps worth a few compromised morals and a few sleeping pills dissolved in Gaius' liquor bottle. If their plan works accordingly, Gaius will still be passed out cold atop a couple of interns when the Adama's raptors arrive to start ferrying volunteers back to the Fleet.
And once the ball gets rolling, Felix thinks, not even a Cylon basestar could turn them back.
Author: millari
Summary: Four times Felix Gaeta got President Baltar to sign something on New Caprica (and one time he didn't).
Characters: Gaeta, Baltar, Zarek
Pairing: Gaeta/Baltar
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: rimming, light BDSM
Title/Author of Original Story: Seeds I Plant Will Grow by hobbit_kate
Author Notes: Thanks to hobbit_kate for participating in this remix and giving me an excuse to explore more of her fic!
**
“... Mister President, we've got quite a full agenda this morning.”
Gaius Baltar, dressed impeccably in a black suit jacket, straightens his tie and greets his chief of staff with an efficient but friendly smile. “Good morning, Mister Gaeta,” he says, reminding Gaeta to go through the pleasantries before just getting down to business. “You're up early.”
Gaeta doesn't bother to state the obvious - that the President is up even earlier. He's always up earlier than everyone, claiming that first daylight is the perfect time to get the most odious tasks out of the way …
**
1. An Appeal to Patriotism
“She's just going to turn the children of this settlement against me, you know.”
Felix rolls his eyes with a grin. “Really, Gaius? That's your argument? You really think Laura Roslin wants to start a school to ruin your chances of future re-election?”
He's turning out to be a pretty good president, but Gaius has this weird bias against his former boss, Laura Roslin. Felix never has gotten the courage up to ask why, exactly.
“Well, perhaps not consciously,” Gaius admits after a moment.
Felix presses his advantage and pushes the document in front of him across the desk. Gaius sits slightly slumped in the plush leather chair of the President. It's the end of the day, and the light is fading fast through the small portholes of Colonial One. Felix notes how the shadows cast his lover's face into an light that makes him look weary, and reaches over to run a sympathetic, affectionate thumb against Gaius' jawline. Gaius smiles at him and raises his eyebrows suggestively. Felix merely chuckles.
Sometimes he can't believe that after all this time of pining after him, Gaius has turned out to love him back. Nor can he believe that this crazy dream he has followed down to New Caprica has all worked out far better than he could have hoped for.
You're on the job right now, he chides himself. Focus.
“You don't have to like her to sign this,” he insists with new resolve. “Just think of it as for the kids, not her, all right?” He carefully places Gaius' favorite pen at the base of the document, somehow hoping it will be an inducement. But Gaius only folds his arms in closed-off annoyance.
“Oh for frak's sake, why does everybody always pull that argument out - think of the children - as if it's a full colors hand?” He scowls. “That woman tried to steal an election. I thought you of all people would take my side on this.”
“I'm on the people's side,” Felix replies patiently. “Come on, Gaius. It's a school. A tent with whatever classroom materials we can scrounge up. Tom is in favor of this. I'm in favor of it.”
“I'm all in favor of a school, Felix. But surely we can find someone more suitable.”
“More suitable than the former minister of education?” He raises his eyebrows. Gaius says nothing.
“All we have left is the Pegasus' knowledge database and the minds of the remaining populace,” he presses, “who I might remind you, have declined in number each year.”
Gaius sighs and pulls out one of his little brown cigarettes from a box on his desk. On auto-pilot, Felix's hand flies into his jacket pocket and pulls out a lighter. He watches the man light the cigarette and take a slow, satisfied first drag, and he senses an opening.
“Just think about if you had never been born on Caprica, Gaius, with all the opportunities to be educated. Think about the valuable mind we would have lost, how we might not have survived the Cylon attacks. Now think about when you die? Who's going to be the next Gaius Baltar?”
Something that was well … Presidential in Gaius's face lights up at that.
“It's imperative that we start educating our children as quickly as possible,” he insists, “before we lose more precious, irretrievable information.”
Gaius scoffs quietly into his glass, and Felix fears for a moment that he has oversold it. “I'm not sure this school is all that, love,” he murmurs into the next drag.
But to Felix's relief, he blows out a long draught of smoke, then picks up the pen.
**
“... Don't forget that you have the People's Council meeting today at 1400 hours. They're expecting an update on the state of the apartment complex,” Gaeta begins, and President Baltar adds with a nod: “We've got the builder's union at 1100 as well, no? I hope you got around to those food estimates, by the way. I'll need them for the negotiations. We can't give awayall the rations to the union, now can we?”
“No, sir.” Gaeta suppresses a small smile, having just noticed that the President has a pencil stuck behind his ear. Felix finds it endearing. Really, he can't believe how much he is still seriously attracted to the man. He had thought seeing Gaius Baltar every single day talking about mundane politics would finally cure him of this one-sided crush, but it hasn't. Still, Felix knows the smart thing is to keep things in check, and never let on. The sexual tension it would introduce into their work relationship would be such a bad idea.
“Anything else?” Baltar asks, impatient to return to his report ...
**
2. The Hard Facts
“What am I even doing here?” Gaius whispers hoarsely through the biting cold, huddling closer into his long, formal trenchcoat. “How did I ever let you convince me to come all the way out here in the dead of night like this?”
What else, the promise of sex, Felix snarks inwardly. Frankly, he is pleasantly surprised that his ruse has even worked. He is pretty sure the last time that Gaius has gone outside of Colonial One was at the apartment groundbreaking ceremony four months ago.
“We've been together now for five months, and you have never once come to see where I live.” Felix sets his shoulders back with manufactured righteousness. In truth, Felix prefers sex with Gaius on Colonial One: it's a lot more comfortable, and when Gaius gets frustrating to deal with, Felix likes being able to get away and having his own tent to go to. But tonight, he has a plan.
“I'm putting my foot down,” he declares into the slight wind that has picked up during the night. “If you want sex tonight, we're doing it here.”
Gaius' murmured complaints snake their way through the winding path of endless, identical, olive drab tents. When they somehow reach Felix's, he holds the flap open for Gaius with ironic gallantry.
“This is how you live?” Gaius blinks with undisguised horror as Felix sparks the tylium lantern alight and the sparse accommodations appear before his eyes.
“It's how everybody lives, Gaius,” he says pointedly. “Everybody except you and Tom.”
Felix sees his mouth twist with surprise in the flickering light. Good, he thinks as he opens the ore stove and stokes the coals back into action, thawing his hands over the radiant heat. Maybe he's getting the picture. “Come,” he cajoles Gaius, who still stands near the tent's entrance, reluctant. “The stove's still giving off some warmth; it'll get better soon.”
Gaius shuffles across the dirt floor. “It's like a bloody icebox in here,” he hisses. “You truly expect me to take off my clothes under these conditions?”
Feeling emboldened on his home turf, Felix grabs him and pulled him into a proprietary kiss that makes clear what he thinks about the matter.
In the end, Gaius does take off his clothes, in a fevered, enthusiastic rush to possess Felix's body, even though Felix can feel small shivers that he is pretty sure aren't Gaius' arousal. Taken out of his own element, Gaius is just slightly thrown off - a little less confident, a little more open to moves Felix wants to try. And the conditions have the added benefit of Gaius curling up in his arms under the blankets afterward, trying to stay warm.
“All right, I'll admit,” Gaius says spontaneously after they have lain together a while enjoying the post-coital bliss. “The change of venue was a good idea, for one night anyway.” He kisses Felix's shoulder.
Felix nibbles at his ear. “Yes, well, you get to go back to Colonial One,” he says softly. “But for the thousands of people you brought here, this is their daily lives.”
Gaius harrumphs disagreeably and pulls away. Damn, Felix thinks. Too much. Now he's defensive.
“We have to get going on those apartment buildings,” he says quickly, trying to capitalize on what might be left of Gaius' good will. “It's going to get even colder soon.”
“Love,” Gaius objects, “I keep telling you: that one's not my fault. What am I supposed to do if the labor union hands me a bad faith contract to sign?”
“The only concession they're asking for is more food,” Felix retorts, realizing that they are going to have this argument now, like it or not, and there is nothing he can do about it. “They're going to be working twelve-hour shifts to get those buildings up. That requires strength. It's not exactly unreasonable to demand a little more food than the rest of the population while they do that.”
“It's extortion, is what it is,” Gaius grumbles, and Felix knows for sure he's lost him. “I won't give into it. We'll be depriving others.”
Felix can't help the angry, frustrated sigh. Winter is coming. “Yes, but only for a couple of months, and I guarantee you the people will think it's worth it if they have warm homes to sleep in this winter. Those apartments could still go up before the cold really settles in, if we start now.”
“We still have time,” Gaius assures him. “In fact, I'm glad you brought me here tonight, even though I know I resisted it at first.”
Felix stares at him through the flickering light. “You are?”
“Yes, I am. I'll admit that I've been rather cut off from the populace as of late. But this ...” He casts his glance around to indicate the tent. “... this is valuable ammunition in our battle with Tyrol's union.”
“Our ...? Felix echoes in astonishment. “I've been telling you to give them the concessions all along ...”
Gaius plants an enthusiastic, almost manic kiss square on Felix's lips. “Don't you see?” he says with something akin to glee in his voice. “Now that I know what it's like here, I can see how the builders can't afford to wait.”
“We can't afford to wait,” comes Felix's crisp correction, but it's almost immediately immured within Gaius' oblivious rambling.
“The builders live here too,” he continues on, “so they know all too well the deadline they're facing before winter comes. They must know they can't obstruct negotiations much longer. Don't you see? Their capitulation is inevitable!”
Felix's expression turns hostile. “This is insane.” He rises up to a sitting position, sloughing Gaius off his body. “You have to sign that contract. People are going to start dying soon.”
“You do have a flair for the melodramatic sometimes,” he smiles as if Felix hasn't said anything worth listening to. “And you worry too much. We just have to hold our ground a bit longer. The union won't have any choice but to give up their demands.” He bolts up out of the bed and makes a search for his trousers. “Tell me,” he says as he does them up, “exactly where is the head around here?”
Wordless with anger, Felix points in the general direction of the outdoor latrine. “There's a solar night light at the top,” he finally manages. “You can't miss it.”
And then he is gone, and Felix is left still processing what just happened, all his best plans mislaid. Furious with Gaius, with himself, he bangs his head in self-castigation against the post of his cot. What the frak was he going to do now? Gaius would be more stubbornly resolute than ever. And what if Tyrol was counting on the same capitulation in Gaius and they both ended up waiting for each other to cave - until winter came and people started dying?
He lies back down in the shivering cold, the blanket thrown off his naked body like a subconscious penance. Why can't he make any of them see reason?
He hears the rustle of the tent flap all too soon.
“Felix!” Gaius' urgent whisper filters through his consciousness, but Felix doesn't bother to open his eyes.
“Yeah, what do you want?”
There is a barely perceptible pause before he answers. “Where's the real head?” he hisses.
“What?” he murmurs. “What are you talking about?”
“All I could find was the temporary one, you know the kind you find on a construction site. Where's the real one?”
Felix's eyes flash open. “The real one? That is the real one. There's only one.”
He can almost feel the weight of dismay in Gaius' voice in the dark. “Surely you can't be serious.”
“Of course I'm serious.”
“But it's a hole in the ground.”
“It's a field latrine, Gaius. What did you expect?”
A moment of silence passes. “Well …” he hesitates. “... I can't use it.”
Felix snorts in annoyance. “Well, it's your only choice.”
“But it's a hole in the ground!”
“Haven't you ever taken a piss behind a building before? What's the big deal?”
Another bout of silence. “That's not the business I need to take care of,” he says pointedly.
“Oh.” The issue finally registers for him. Felix doesn't know whether to laugh or be annoyed. “Well, what do you expect me to do about it?”
“Well, what do you do in this situation?”
Felix rolls his eyes in the darkness. “I use the latrine.”
“This is really the only choice?” Gaius asks in obvious disbelief. “Squatting over a hole in the ground in the middle of the night?”
Felix exhales with a weary sigh. “Yeah, well, welcome to life in New Caprica City, Gaius.”
Gaius grunts. “Well, this is intolerable. I'm off to Colonial One and a real head.” He draws on his trenchcoat and buttons it up all the way to the collar. He turns back and glances at Felix, still lying on the cot. “Come back with me,” he suggests. “It's inhumane here. There's no reason for you to live like this. I'm sure we can find you a room in Colonial One.”
Felix closes his eyes again. Definitely annoyed, he decides. “To be honest, Gaius, I'd really rather not.”
A final bit of silence. “Oh.” The word drops before them like an anvil. “I see.” But Felix has no sympathy for Gaius right now; he just wants him to leave. He folds his arms across his chest and says nothing until he hears the soft thud of the tent flap falling closed.
He lies there in the darkness for a good couple of hours, his mind racing with worry about the union negotiations, about whether they have managed to grow enough food to last them until spring, about winter kicking in, and about if he's made a huge mistake getting involved with Gaius Baltar.
This last worry in particular nags at him in the morning light as he trudges through the familiar muddy pathways towards Colonial One.
They never talk about the two-page document Felix finds waiting for him on his desk, signed with Gaius' usual imperious flourish. Felix just makes sure to get the rations to Tyrol's men before Gaius changes his mind.
In retrospect, Felix could see how it was the beginning of the end.
**
“ ...Well, there is a small supply issue.” Gaeta checks off another item on his clipboard. “It's not a problem yet, but it will be soon.”
“Well, let's hear it. You know my policy: Bad news first.”
“Well, sir, I know you don't like to have to bother Admiral Adama when we can manage well enough on our own, but I think you're going to want to see this.” He turns the clipboard upside down and hands it over to the President ...
**
3. Sex
Gaius can't believe Felix has never suggested this before, in all the eight months that they've been together now. It's amazing - the feel of his lover's soft, wet tongue circling round the rim of his anus, Felix's strong, warm hands spreading his cheeks open - it's utterly intoxicating. They haven't had sex like this in months.
Some days he wishes he had never seen this planet - the tedious politics, the endless demands on his time and attention, the constant anger directed at him no matter what he did. Some days he wishes he had never listened to Tom's proposal that he run for President.
But not today.
He whimpers with desperate need as Felix removes his tongue. A finger, slick with cold lube, pushes inside him, slow and inexorable, hesitating at the entrance. “Anything I want?” Felix confirms.
Gaius groans at the very idea that he might withdraw now.
“Yes, yes!” he cries. “Oh God, yes. Just please, don't stop!”
“You beg far more prettily than I would have guessed.” There's something cold in that praise that Gaius can't quite place, but right now he doesn't care to explore it. Right now, his chief of staff has him tied to his own bed, spread-eagled and kneeling on the sheets, blindfolded and utterly helpless. For once, he feels utterly devoid of power and responsibility, and it is oddly glorious.
This was the deal they made, half-jokingly at first, until Gaius kept pushing to make it serious, until Felix got over his initial haughtiness about it, and was able to see how it was a win-win situation for the both of them. Gaius doesn't even remember what Felix might want from him, but it doesn't really matter, because the way Felix is stroking into him now, pushing his finger in ever deeper and twisting, he supposes he would have agreed to almost anything.
Another finger is added, the thrusts both swift and sure and constant, and Gaius thinks he might come then and there, but just as he's truly close, Felix's fingers stop and scissor open with unexpected strength, spreading him even more open, so that Gaius can feel the hint of a cold draft against his sphincter. His muscles contract and he cries out again, pushing back into Felix's hand, desperate to come, silently pleading for release.
“Anything I want?” Felix repeats, and Gaius can hear him kneeling down. A second later, his tongue is there again, warm and wet, taking miniscule strokes over exposed spots that are so sensitive, Gaius can't even think straight, doesn't want to think straight.
“For frak's sake,” he growls in impatience. “Make me come already, will you?”
Felix doesn't say anything more, which suits Gaius just fine. It's less to concentrate on as Felix starts up again, his fingers pushing up inside him with rough determination now. The combination of the velvet warmth of the lube and the merciless thrusts is so perfect, Gaius knows he will give Felix any sexual favor he wants in return, even if it doesn't do anything for him at all.
He comes in the total darkness of the blindfold, his climax heralded by an almost inhuman, high-pitched whine from the back of his throat. He is a shuddering, exploding mess, and his body slams several times against all four ropes until he collapses into them in total, exhausted submission.
“Remember, you promised.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” he pants. “Whatever you want.” He feels the blindfold ripped off him, and his wrists quickly untied, and to his shock, a paper on a clipboard is placed carefully in front of him.
“Oh you must be joking,” he half-laughs, half-complains as he sees the letter to Adama begging for more medical supplies. “I told you I wouldn't sign that.”
“Anything I wanted, you said,” Felix reminds him, his expression closed off and efficient. In a flash of shock and chagrin, Gaius finally understands how things are between them now.
His breaths coming out hoarse and shallow, he signs, eager to get it over with.
**
“... Well, if we've got to ask him, we've got to ask him,” the President says, after looking over Felix's briefing. “We can't put my pride ahead of the people's safety.”
“Of course not, Mister President. ...”
**
4. Nostalgia
Felix closes the curtain behind him.
“Not what you expected, is he?”
He startles at the sight of Tom Zarek unexpectedly before him, leaning against the bulkhead like the cat who ate the canary, a smug witness to Felix's humiliation.
“Mr. Vice-President,” he greets with as much cold disdain as he can muster in his surprise. Zarek had made it extremely clear months ago what he thought of Felix for sleeping with Gaius. The two men haven't shared more than a few sentences that weren't absolutely necessary ever since.
“We both know procuring whores for Baltar isn't what you signed up for, Felix.” Zarek's voice is confident yet jaded, and Felix realizes how much it reminds him of his own. It didn't use to be that way. New Caprica has ground a weariness into both men.
“You're the one who procured her,” he snaps, embarrassed. “I'm just the … butler.” He doesn't want to be having this conversation at all. “What do you want?”
“He needs to sign that order, allow people back on the ships,” Zarek says calmly. He's bound and determined to press this point forever, Felix thinks, as if he doesn't really understand that there's no way that Gaius will agree to it. A dozen shouting matches between the three of them haven't changed anything, so he doesn't know why Zarek thinks that plotting with Felix behind Gaius' back will either.
“What makes you think I can convince him?” By which they both know he means: We don't frak anymore. I might as well be invisible unless he wants booze or pills or women.
“I know you can't,” Zarek says, imperturbable, all business. “But you could let him sign it later tonight, when he's more … receptive.” He glances towards the curtain, and Felix wonders if this had been Zarek's plan all along.
For a moment, they let the idea sit between them.
“Are you crazy?” Felix finally hisses. “That's a coup!”
Zarek sighs, with an inevitable air, as if he's waiting for Felix to grow up.
“I'll be here when you change your mind.”
Felix's expression conveys exactly what he knows it should at the proposition - outrage, disbelief. But he knows that for a moment, a dangerous moment, he did consider it.
His moral resolve comes through gritted teeth. “I won't.There are some things I won't do.”
“Haven't you already?” Zarek shrugs and begins walking towards the exit. They both know Gaius will be too occupied the rest of the night to need either of them for anything. He pauses at the doorway, a warning thrown over his shoulder. “You know we can't go on like this much longer, Gaeta.”
Felix falls into one of the room's sofas, trying to decide whether the rare opportunity for uninterrupted work time is worth having to overhear the sounds of Gaius and that woman frakking. He closes his eyes with a sigh. “Good night, Mr. Vice-President.”
Zarek shuts the door to Colonial One behind him without a word.
“You've got to be kidding!” Felix hears a sharp female voice rising from the bedroom. “I just got here!”
Before Felix can extricate himself from the sofa, Gaius is there in the room, hustling the honey-blonde out by the arm, his voice rasped from drink and cigarettes. He seems to be refusing to look at her, and his words are strangely choked, as if holding back some strong emotion.
“It's a very nice offer, I'm sure,” he manages, continuing to push her towards the exit. “But I'm afraid I'll have to decline.”
By the time they reach the doorway, the woman shakes him off in disgust, straightens up, and pushes back her shoulder-length, slightly waved ringlets, and Felix gets a good look at her: She is fairly pretty - tall, long-legged, a narrow, angular face like a fashion model's. She even looks vaguely familiar, although Felix can't quite put his finger on where he might have seen her before. At any rate, he's surprised: she should have been a no-questions conquest for Gaius. Felix has certainly seen less-attractive women pass successfully through that curtain.
Her gaze falls upon him sitting on the sofa. “What are you looking at?” she spits, an obvious attempt to regain her dignity. Her angrily clicking heels are the only sound in the room as she takes her leave.
He looks back at Gaius, who startles as if embarrassed to have Felix witness this. “Mister Gaeta,” he mutters the name without any real intention behind it, and goes back to the credenza for the bottle of ambrosia.
Felix watches him pour and feels the anger rising within him. He can't resist the bitter jab:
“Well, that was quick,” he mocks. “So what was wrong with her? Not young enough? Not blonde enough?”
“Too blonde, actually,” Gaius cuts him off between sips. Felix doesn't know what to make of an actual reply, and is startled into silence. “Bad associations,” Gaius elaborates, but it doesn't really explain much.
He gulps down the whole glass of straight ambrosia with a pained expression as it goes down. “Where the frak did Tom find her, anyway? She was so thin she looked like she would break if I touched her - like a frakking prisoner of war.”
“That's because she was hungry,” Felix says, unable not to go there, even though he knows it will do no good. “Everybody's hungry nowadays, and it's only going to get worse. We need to accept that this planet is a failed experiment and make preparations to return to the Fleet ...”
“New Caprica is not a failure!” Gaius exclaims, alcohol sloshing perilously at the edges of his glass, his voice one part emphatic and two parts hysterical. “I promised the people soil beneath their feet! I promised them a new beginning! I won't betray them!”
The man stumbles towards his desk. He sits in the chair, a morose expression on his face as he slides his body forward and lays his head down.
Felix blinks in shock at the outburst. “Get some sleep, Mister President,” he eventually says, pulling himself up in one motion off the sofa, and turning toward the exit, even though he doesn't look forward to the cold walk back to his tent. But before he can reach the door, the President's voice calls out across the room.
“Stay,” he says, with a subtle undertone that is an unmistakable plea. He adds, as if a momentary afterthought: “Felix.”
Felix freezes at the doorknob. Please don't, Gaius. Slowly he turns around and tries to keep his tone carefully neutral.
“What is it, Mister President?”
Gaius purses his lips and stares at him for a long, confusing moment. “Felix,” he repeats, his voice adopting an academic quality Felix hasn't heard in what seems like a very long time. “Do you think that the Kobol Paradox can ever be solved?”
“Excuse me?” Felix asks, eyebrows raised.
Gaius repeats the question, and Felix can see now how his erudite tone is mostly manufactured and is hitching slightly with desperation. He stares in disbelief, then picks up the bait, not really sure why he does. It's been so long, it's a challenge to even get back into that kind of academic mindset.
“Not without a lot more research into photon travel and astrophysics,” he replies. “No one can possibly understand it until we figure out why gravity plays an obvious role.”
Gaius nods sagely, as if Felix has said something intriguing, when actually, he's really just parroting ideas half-forgotten from his college textbooks.
“True, true,” he agrees. “You know, I've always had a theory about Kobol's Paradox, but I could never work out how to prove it conclusively. He smiles wanly. “Astrophysical math was never my strong suit. You're much better at it than I am.”
Felix's eyes widen with surprise at the compliment. Gaius has never admitted to anything like that before.
“Thank you, Doctor Baltar,” he says automatically, taken back to an earlier, relatively more innocent time. Gaius genuinely smiles back at him, because they both know what just happened for a moment.
It's enough of an opening to keep them talking about science and then generally, life before all this, although they never once mention the attacks. They both seem to know that it will ruin something fragile they have constructed together.
“Well,” Felix says, after about an hour has passed. “We should probably both get some sleep. Busy day tomorrow.”
Gaius nods in assent, as if again, Felix has said something very wise. “Yes, busy day,” he echoes, watching Felix zipping up his jacket. “Are you sure you want to go out there?” he asks tentatively. He peers out the porthole across from his desk. “It must be beastly cold out there.”
Felix pauses in surprise. They both know what he means.
“I think it's for the best,” he finally replies.
“Of course, of course,” Gaius clears his throat and scatters through some documents on his desk. “By the way, where is that thing you wanted me to sign yesterday?”
“The executive order?” he asks, amazed. “The one allowing people back into the Fleet?”
A dismissive hand waves at him. “No, no, I'm not signing that.” He tosses papers aside in his search. “The one from yesterday … the one with the … Ah!”
He extracts a single-page document from the messy piles on his desk, grabs a pen and signs it, then dangles it towards Felix.
Eyes narrowed with confusion, Felix takes it and recognizes a document he indeed wanted Gaius to sign yesterday - an order to send Galactica's raptors on a search for more food resources on the planet. They need it desperately, especially if they're not going anywhere anytime soon. Gaius has been dragging his feet on signing it, insofar as Felix could tell, out of stubborn pride; he doesn't want Adama to know they are running out of food.
“Thank you, Gaius,” he says, though he knows gratitude is not what he should feel. The President of the Colonies nods acknowledgement, then does his best to avoid looking at Felix anymore. Felix takes the cue to leave, dropping off the document at his desk before he exits. He'll contact Galactica first thing in the morning.
The Vice-President is right. In the long run, they have to go back, even if Galactica does help them find food so they can hold out a little while longer. Felix once believed in the dream of New Caprica, but now he sees how it was just a dream. Gaius stubbornly refuses to see that. What if he never sees it?
In his mind's eye, he gets a flash image of Zarek leaning against the bulkhead. How long do the two of them wait for Gaius to come to his senses?
And when they are through with waiting, what then?
**
5. And One Time He Didn't
“Mister President, we've got quite a full agenda this morning.”
Gaius Baltar, dressed impeccably in a black suit jacket, straightens his tie and greets his chief of staff with an efficient but friendly smile. “Good morning, Mister Gaeta,” he says, reminding Gaeta to go through the pleasantries before just getting down to business. “You're up early.”
Gaeta doesn't bother to state the obvious - that the President is up even earlier. He's always up earlier than everyone, claiming that first daylight is the perfect time to get the most odious tasks out of the way.
“Don't forget that you have the People's Council meeting today at 1400 hours. They're expecting an update on the state of the apartment complex,” Gaeta begins, and President Baltar adds with a nod: “We've got the builder's union at 1100 as well, no? I hope you got around to those food estimates, by the way. I'll need them for the negotiations. We can't give awayallthe rations to the union, now can we?”
“No, sir.” Gaeta suppresses a small smile, having just noticed that the President has a pencil stuck behind his ear. Felix finds it endearing. Really, he can't believe how much he is still seriously attracted to the man. He had thought seeing Gaius Baltar every single day talking about mundane politics would finally cure him of this one-sided crush, but it hasn't. Still, Felix knows the smart thing is to keep things in check, and never let on. The sexual tension it would introduce into their work relationship would be such a bad idea.
“Anything else?” Baltar asks, impatient to return to his report.
“Well, there is a small supply issue.” Gaeta checks off another item on his clipboard. “It's not a problem yet, but it will be soon.”
“Well, let's hear it. You know my policy: Bad news first.”
“Well, sir, I know you don't like to have to bother Admiral Adama when we can manage well enough on our own, but I think you're going to want to see this.” He turns the clipboard upside down and hands it over to the President.
“Well, if we've got to ask him, we've got to ask him,” Baltar says, after looking over Felix's briefing. “We can't put my pride ahead of the people's safety.”
“Of course not, Mister President.”
“If only he were ever actually like that,” Felix mutters to himself, hand poised over the executive order he has typed up himself in secret. He has been sitting at his desk for the last hour and half, wrestling with a weighty decision. The squeals of garish laughter and throaty moans wafting from the Presidential bedroom are a soundtrack to his dilemma.
He hears a glass fall and smash in the bedroom, followed by a moment of silence, then, more racuous laughter; it gives Felix the resolve he needs. A moment later, the document is signed, in perfect mimcry of Gaius' overblown signature, which Felix knows so well by now, he could have been forging official documents for months.
But no matter how much he has been tempted by the idea, even as Gaius has taken them all further and further downhill these past thirteen months, Felix never has done it. Not until today.
But Tom is right. The survival of humanity is perhaps worth a few compromised morals and a few sleeping pills dissolved in Gaius' liquor bottle. If their plan works accordingly, Gaius will still be passed out cold atop a couple of interns when the Adama's raptors arrive to start ferrying volunteers back to the Fleet.
And once the ball gets rolling, Felix thinks, not even a Cylon basestar could turn them back.