FIC: Torn Asunder (2/4)
Rating: MA (This chapter T)
Word Count: 1500
Summary: Adama kicks some people off their chairs.
Setting: Post-episode for Torn
Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama
Series: Love in a Time of War: 4
A/N: I’m placing the events of this episode about two weeks after Collaborators, and that’s being generous, using Lee’s weight loss as a gauge. He’s still puffy and bragging about losing ½ stone in Collaborators but is ripped in Torn. Let’s assume there’s a GNC outlet on one of the ships, and he could get in that sort of shape in two weeks. *rolling eyes at FatSuit!Lee*
Chapter 2:
Adama buttoned his tunic in his head’s mirror with slightly shaking fingers. He was still a bit drunk, but Lee and Dualla would be here any minute. He stroked his cheek, deciding the stubble wasn’t noticeable.
Starbuck and Tigh had wanted to see some balls from the Galactica crew, well, they got it when Adama came into the rec room. Suicide was their thing; he’d make it his with Starbuck’s weapon on the table, daring one of them to shoot him. And he’d meant it. Adama’s throat ached from too much booze and tears; something had to give.
Neither would fight--just two petulant children, Kara chewing on her fingernail and Tigh sulking. Bill had kicked her to the floor--it had felt good, damn good.
But he’d lost his fight with Saul.
Bill had said, “You’re full of bile--hatred--and I know it has something to do with Ellen and I’m sorry for that.” He’d seen the list of the dead and Ellen Tigh’s name on it but all Laura would say was, she died in our struggle. Sure, he bet.
Gentle, he’d tried to reach his old friend: “And if you need time, Saul, then you take all the time you want, but I’ve gotta run a ship and the last thing I need is a one-eyed drunk sitting down here sowing discontent and disobedience, so I’ll tell you once again. Saul, you can pick up that weapon and kill me or you can get your ass back into your quarters and not leave ‘til you’re ready to act like the man that I’ve known for the past thirty years.”
And that old friend broke his heart; he would not fight. Tigh had pulled himself slowly to his feet and had unloaded the gun. He was the empty weapon, spent, and he had said it too, “That man doesn’t exist anymore, Bill.”
Bill made his way out of the head and poured himself a drink. Laura didn’t exist anymore. Kara didn’t exist anymore. Sam had disappeared.
Then Lee was at the hatchway, Dee behind him, arriving at his invitation for dinner and Bill forced a smile.
There was little sound but the clinking of utensils against the dishes. Dee tried to start several conversations, but neither father nor son would pick up the threads. She sneaked a peek at the wall clock. They’d only been there half an hour.
Suddenly, Bill said, “Have you found out what happened to Kara on New Caprica?”
“What?” Lee asked, a noodle hanging from the corner of his mouth. He slurped it up and replied. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that she can’t do her frakkin’ job.”
“No need to talk like that,” Bill said, shifting his gaze to Dee and she smiled back in an amused thanks.
Lee looked embarrassed and then defensive.
“You’ve taken her off the CAP,” Bill said.
Lee thumped down his fork. “Yes, I have. She’s a danger to the crew--“
“I trust you,” said his father mildly. “I want to know what happened to her.”
Dee finally broke in. “I heard that she was held in a special detention facility the entire time. A Cylon, that one, Leoben, came and took her the day that they landed.”
Lee turned on her. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“You didn’t ask,” she pointed out.
Adama folded his napkin, appetite gone. “Thank you, Dee. I appreciate the information.”
“Like you care now,” Lee said. “You kicked her out of her chair.”
“And you kicked her out of her Viper,” said Bill. “So we’re both SOB’s.” He got up to refill his glass.
Lee pushed back from the table. “It doesn’t matter. She’s being her usual frak-up.“
Dee watched the two men, father and son, and wondered if she’d ever get through a day without talking about, or thinking about, Kara Thrace.
Lee said to her, “’bout done, Dee? I’ve got a 0500 meeting.”
Dee saw the Admiral’s shoulders hunch up as he fiddled with the bottles. Slowly, she said, “I was hoping to have a nice chat with my father-in-law--“ and Lee’s face twisted peevishly.
Adama said over his back, “No, you should go; it’s late.”
In the corridor, Lee rolled his head as though trying to shift sand out of his ear. “What the hell was that about? Asked us to dinner and then talked about Kara the whole time.”
“Not my idea of stimulating dinner conversation,” Dee admitted.
“I’ll tell you, he wanted to second guess my decision with Starbuck--“
“Where are you getting that from?” Dee pulled him up, saying, “If anyone’s second-guessing, it’s you, trying to talk yourself into backing down from your decision.”
“Dee--“
Bitterness, her constant companion, welled up. “Poor Starbuck, all alone in the big cold universe, no one to stand up for her--“
He shook his head, staring over her shoulder. “It’s not like that.”
Dee started walking again. “I thought you had an early meeting, Lee.”
He changed the subject. “Besides, why doesn’t Dad just ask Kara if he wants to know what happened?”
She slipped her hand in her husband’s and it took a moment for him to squeeze it back. “Maybe, Lee, he wanted to spend some time with us. Maybe he’s lonely.”
“Are you kidding? This ship’s busting at the seams with people,” said Lee.
“I don’t mean strangers--“ Dee said, looking up at her husband.
He shrugged as they arrived at their quarters. Spinning the lock, he said, “And we’re on the Galactica now. What more could he want?”
Dee sighed and started to go through the hatchway, but unnoticing, Lee cut her off, then apologized with a mumble. “Forget it,” she said briskly and he shrugged again.
Adama was headed to a meeting with Zarek, Laura, and a few captains about distributing the refugees into ships with lighter passenger loads. He wasn’t expecting it to go well and his neck was tight with tension, color bursts dancing before his eyes. He had drank too much yesterday...and the day before, and wasn’t sleeping well--too much to think about.
He spotted Laura’s security detail ahead; she must be hidden within their wall. He quickened his step, suddenly with purpose. Perhaps it was time to kick Laura out of her chair.
He fell into step beside her, nodding to the Marines, not bothering to greet her. She raised her eyebrow, but kept her quick pace. He suddenly grabbed her arm to stop her by an alcove and told her detail, “I’ve got it from here. Go on ahead to the Ward Room and wait for us.”
Looking conflicted, the sergeant of the detail glanced to Roslin. She gave the tiniest of nods and moved out of their way.
When he turned back, she had her arms crossed and was looking down her nose at him over her glasses. He crossed his arms too.
He glanced up and down the corridor. It was fairly deserted. He said, “Do you know what happened to Kara on New Caprica? Why is Sam living off ship?”
Disconcerted, Laura loosened her arms. “Oh. Uh, she disappeared the day the Cylons came. No one saw or heard anything from her the entire time.”
She added, “I assumed that she was dead,” in a flat voice, as though she assumed a lot of people were dead, and had come to terms with it. “...or worse.”
“What was worse?”
That wall slammed up again in her frozen gaze and it took all his power not to shake her until her teeth rattled. She said, “Look at her. That’s what’s worse.”
“So you’ve talked to her?”
Laura dropped her head. “No. I’ve heard.”
“Yeah, all sorts of stories going around. The crazy part is, no one’s bothering to tell me face to face.”
“They aren’t my stories to tell,” she said quietly.
“I think you might have one or two of your own,” he said, his slow boil reaching a red-hot stage.
“We’re going to be late,” she said, chin up.
He grasped her elbow. “I know a shortcut,” he said, leading her off quickly.
End (2/4) Chapter 3>>>
Word Count: 1500
Summary: Adama kicks some people off their chairs.
Setting: Post-episode for Torn
Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama
Series: Love in a Time of War: 4
A/N: I’m placing the events of this episode about two weeks after Collaborators, and that’s being generous, using Lee’s weight loss as a gauge. He’s still puffy and bragging about losing ½ stone in Collaborators but is ripped in Torn. Let’s assume there’s a GNC outlet on one of the ships, and he could get in that sort of shape in two weeks. *rolling eyes at FatSuit!Lee*
Chapter 2:
Adama buttoned his tunic in his head’s mirror with slightly shaking fingers. He was still a bit drunk, but Lee and Dualla would be here any minute. He stroked his cheek, deciding the stubble wasn’t noticeable.
Starbuck and Tigh had wanted to see some balls from the Galactica crew, well, they got it when Adama came into the rec room. Suicide was their thing; he’d make it his with Starbuck’s weapon on the table, daring one of them to shoot him. And he’d meant it. Adama’s throat ached from too much booze and tears; something had to give.
Neither would fight--just two petulant children, Kara chewing on her fingernail and Tigh sulking. Bill had kicked her to the floor--it had felt good, damn good.
But he’d lost his fight with Saul.
Bill had said, “You’re full of bile--hatred--and I know it has something to do with Ellen and I’m sorry for that.” He’d seen the list of the dead and Ellen Tigh’s name on it but all Laura would say was, she died in our struggle. Sure, he bet.
Gentle, he’d tried to reach his old friend: “And if you need time, Saul, then you take all the time you want, but I’ve gotta run a ship and the last thing I need is a one-eyed drunk sitting down here sowing discontent and disobedience, so I’ll tell you once again. Saul, you can pick up that weapon and kill me or you can get your ass back into your quarters and not leave ‘til you’re ready to act like the man that I’ve known for the past thirty years.”
And that old friend broke his heart; he would not fight. Tigh had pulled himself slowly to his feet and had unloaded the gun. He was the empty weapon, spent, and he had said it too, “That man doesn’t exist anymore, Bill.”
Bill made his way out of the head and poured himself a drink. Laura didn’t exist anymore. Kara didn’t exist anymore. Sam had disappeared.
Then Lee was at the hatchway, Dee behind him, arriving at his invitation for dinner and Bill forced a smile.
There was little sound but the clinking of utensils against the dishes. Dee tried to start several conversations, but neither father nor son would pick up the threads. She sneaked a peek at the wall clock. They’d only been there half an hour.
Suddenly, Bill said, “Have you found out what happened to Kara on New Caprica?”
“What?” Lee asked, a noodle hanging from the corner of his mouth. He slurped it up and replied. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that she can’t do her frakkin’ job.”
“No need to talk like that,” Bill said, shifting his gaze to Dee and she smiled back in an amused thanks.
Lee looked embarrassed and then defensive.
“You’ve taken her off the CAP,” Bill said.
Lee thumped down his fork. “Yes, I have. She’s a danger to the crew--“
“I trust you,” said his father mildly. “I want to know what happened to her.”
Dee finally broke in. “I heard that she was held in a special detention facility the entire time. A Cylon, that one, Leoben, came and took her the day that they landed.”
Lee turned on her. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“You didn’t ask,” she pointed out.
Adama folded his napkin, appetite gone. “Thank you, Dee. I appreciate the information.”
“Like you care now,” Lee said. “You kicked her out of her chair.”
“And you kicked her out of her Viper,” said Bill. “So we’re both SOB’s.” He got up to refill his glass.
Lee pushed back from the table. “It doesn’t matter. She’s being her usual frak-up.“
Dee watched the two men, father and son, and wondered if she’d ever get through a day without talking about, or thinking about, Kara Thrace.
Lee said to her, “’bout done, Dee? I’ve got a 0500 meeting.”
Dee saw the Admiral’s shoulders hunch up as he fiddled with the bottles. Slowly, she said, “I was hoping to have a nice chat with my father-in-law--“ and Lee’s face twisted peevishly.
Adama said over his back, “No, you should go; it’s late.”
In the corridor, Lee rolled his head as though trying to shift sand out of his ear. “What the hell was that about? Asked us to dinner and then talked about Kara the whole time.”
“Not my idea of stimulating dinner conversation,” Dee admitted.
“I’ll tell you, he wanted to second guess my decision with Starbuck--“
“Where are you getting that from?” Dee pulled him up, saying, “If anyone’s second-guessing, it’s you, trying to talk yourself into backing down from your decision.”
“Dee--“
Bitterness, her constant companion, welled up. “Poor Starbuck, all alone in the big cold universe, no one to stand up for her--“
He shook his head, staring over her shoulder. “It’s not like that.”
Dee started walking again. “I thought you had an early meeting, Lee.”
He changed the subject. “Besides, why doesn’t Dad just ask Kara if he wants to know what happened?”
She slipped her hand in her husband’s and it took a moment for him to squeeze it back. “Maybe, Lee, he wanted to spend some time with us. Maybe he’s lonely.”
“Are you kidding? This ship’s busting at the seams with people,” said Lee.
“I don’t mean strangers--“ Dee said, looking up at her husband.
He shrugged as they arrived at their quarters. Spinning the lock, he said, “And we’re on the Galactica now. What more could he want?”
Dee sighed and started to go through the hatchway, but unnoticing, Lee cut her off, then apologized with a mumble. “Forget it,” she said briskly and he shrugged again.
Adama was headed to a meeting with Zarek, Laura, and a few captains about distributing the refugees into ships with lighter passenger loads. He wasn’t expecting it to go well and his neck was tight with tension, color bursts dancing before his eyes. He had drank too much yesterday...and the day before, and wasn’t sleeping well--too much to think about.
He spotted Laura’s security detail ahead; she must be hidden within their wall. He quickened his step, suddenly with purpose. Perhaps it was time to kick Laura out of her chair.
He fell into step beside her, nodding to the Marines, not bothering to greet her. She raised her eyebrow, but kept her quick pace. He suddenly grabbed her arm to stop her by an alcove and told her detail, “I’ve got it from here. Go on ahead to the Ward Room and wait for us.”
Looking conflicted, the sergeant of the detail glanced to Roslin. She gave the tiniest of nods and moved out of their way.
When he turned back, she had her arms crossed and was looking down her nose at him over her glasses. He crossed his arms too.
He glanced up and down the corridor. It was fairly deserted. He said, “Do you know what happened to Kara on New Caprica? Why is Sam living off ship?”
Disconcerted, Laura loosened her arms. “Oh. Uh, she disappeared the day the Cylons came. No one saw or heard anything from her the entire time.”
She added, “I assumed that she was dead,” in a flat voice, as though she assumed a lot of people were dead, and had come to terms with it. “...or worse.”
“What was worse?”
That wall slammed up again in her frozen gaze and it took all his power not to shake her until her teeth rattled. She said, “Look at her. That’s what’s worse.”
“So you’ve talked to her?”
Laura dropped her head. “No. I’ve heard.”
“Yeah, all sorts of stories going around. The crazy part is, no one’s bothering to tell me face to face.”
“They aren’t my stories to tell,” she said quietly.
“I think you might have one or two of your own,” he said, his slow boil reaching a red-hot stage.
“We’re going to be late,” she said, chin up.
He grasped her elbow. “I know a shortcut,” he said, leading her off quickly.
End (2/4) Chapter 3>>>