Echoes, Part 1: Chapter 7
Title: Echoes (Part 1)
Author: ecstaticdance
Word Count: 40,000
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Lee/Kara
Warnings: Smut. Mysticism. Spoilers through Season 3 for part 1 (to be safe), ultimately through Daybreak.
Summary:All of this has happened before, now we're going to see it happen again. But the Lords of Kobol want to see if they can possibly change it, so key characters have retained the echoes of memories which cause them to make different decisions, or experience things at different times, than in previous cycles.
Notes: This is a completed story. But it's a monster. Somewhere 150,000 words (pre-editing). I'm posting Part 1 now. The rest will be posted... as it's available, probably.
Also (and more importantly) THANK YOU! To christ_chexx_4u for doing such a fabulous beta job for me. And many, many thanks to those of you who cheered me on and supported me from the very beginning of this story. You inspire me.
Finally, thank you to redsmirch for the beautiful painting. She's offered to create some more for me, which I'll post links to as it becomes available. The image included here is a point I'm driving toward, which... comes later in the story. So it probably won't make much sense next to what you're reading just yet. But it's beautiful and needs to be shared.
Artist: redsmirch
Link to Art: And the darkness behind her pearled and flushed
Return to Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Lee had decided, after their boxing match, to give Kara space to sort herself out a bit before he tried to talk to her. Or so he told himself. If he was completely honest, the flood of emotions their bout had released for her had frightened him. Stony and stoic, or bitter and violent he was used to most of Kara's dark moods, and could navigate them competently, if not comfortably. He'd never seen anything so devastating as a shattered, weeping Kara. He was on unfamiliar ground, and needed to get his own bearings before he could do anything more for her.
When he opened the hatch to the pilot's rec room, he found her sharing a quiet moment with a bottle of ambrosia, her back to the entrance. From what he saw, however, she was spending more time looking at it than drinking it. He watched her for a while, wondering if he should speak up or walk away.
He'd never been good at walking away from her.
Making up his mind, he closed the hatch and started walking toward her as he spoke. “Hey.”
She responded, her voice flat and unsurprised, without turning toward him. “I wondered how long it would take for you to find me.”
He laughed once, softly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a bitter grin, “Yeah, well... There room here for another?” He put his hand on the back of a second chair at her table.
She nodded. “Pull up a chair, grab a glass.” She poured him a shot and went back to swirling the contents of the bottle. After a long silence, she offered, “I went to see Kacey yesterday.”
Lee held his glass and watched Kara tease her lower lip with her teeth.
Still watching the liquid in front of her, Kara spoke again. Her voice was distant, almost as if she were speaking more to herself than to him. “You asked me once what they'd done to me while I was back on Caprica.” Lee said nothing. His heart missed a beat. That had been before New Caprica. Gods, he thought, does it go back that far? She continued. “I think they were opening the door for what happened on New Caprica.” Confused, he watched her. “They pushed buttons. Brought up things, memories, that I've worked for years to forget. Things I told myself I'd gotten over, because there wasn't a damn thing I could do about them anyways.” He thought back, remembered conversations with Zak that had hinted at the misery that had been Kara's life before she'd completed her education. His own eyes misted. He knew what was coming next. “I feel like I relived all of it, Lee.”
She finally looked up at him, and held his gaze. Her expression was utterly unreadable. He closed his eyes, trying to blink back the unshed tears. He wanted to gather her up and put the broken pieces back together. He whispered, “I'm so sorry.”
She made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “When he brought Kacey into my cell, he told me she was mine. I fought it so... so frakking hard. Kids are brats, they get in the way, they mess things up... And then she fell down the stairs.” Lee's eyes opened and flew to Kara's face. Her jaw was set, but he couldn't tell if it was anger or fear. Perhaps it was both. “Seeing her lying there was like watching the worlds end all over again, and I know it doesn't make sense, but I would have done anything to fix it, to have been in the room and kept her safe. I just...” She trailed off into silence, seemingly unable to put her thoughts into words.
When Lee realized she wasn't going to say anything more, he breeched the silence.
“It doesn't make much sense, does it?”
She froze for the briefest moment, glanced at him, eyes full of pain, then looked away again before answering. “Nope. Doesn't.”
They both sat staring at their drinks, not sure where to go next. Lee dared to push the issue. “Maybe that's the point. Maybe it isn't supposed to make sense.”
Kara leveled a disbelieving glance in his direction. “Thinking about porch swings and white picket fences again, Leland?”
Lee paused, realizing that was exactly what it sounded like. “I don't know,” he admitted. “I mean, not now, but someday. Maybe.”
He watched as something undefinable changed in her posture. Was the wall going up or coming down? She had a list of reasons to shy away from parenthood that dwarfed anything he might come up with. But without even trying he could think of a dozen people he'd known before the worlds had ended who had tried it and succeeded, in as much as anyone could be successful in such a thing. If that was what she - they - wanted at some undefined point in the future... Well, maybe it didn't look so scary with Kara by his side. He took a chance, leaned forward and reached a hand out to gently turn her face toward his. She offered no resistance, and made no discernible effort to hide the emotions that played across her face. Confusion gave way to acceptance and fear danced with hope.
“I love you, Kara Thrace, and I believe that you are greater than the sum of your past.” He whispered the words reverently, running his thumb along the curve of her cheek. He held her gaze for a moment, then blushed, looking away, pulling back his hand and standing to leave.
Kara caught his hand, then stood up in front of him. She looked up at him, her hazel eyes bright and deep with emotion. She opened her mouth, as if to speak, then closed it, took a deep breath and tried again. “How do you do it, Lee? How do you crawl under my frakking skin without even trying? How can you believe in me after everything I've done to you?”
Lee stood, lost in her eyes, trying to decide if she actually wanted him to answer her questions. She must have seen his distress, because she laughed softly and shook her head. “Forget it, Lee.” She watched him a moment longer, then draped her free arm around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a sweet, lingering kiss.
He would never quite recall how they made it back to his quarters, or how long it took them to get there. He would never actually find out if the other pilots really were sending knowing glances his way after that day, or if he was imagining them. But he would never forget the way her blond hair swung around her face, or the way her eyes drilled into him, as if they were the only two people in the universe.
She didn't rush, this time, didn't push. She moved slowly, exploring his body as if they'd never been together before. It reminded him of the night they'd spent on New Caprica in many ways, but there was a new element to this encounter. Underneath the tenderness was a hesitation, as if Kara was using the time to make a decision that weighed heavily on her.
He didn't push, even held back. He smiled slowly and covered her body with gentle kisses, tasting every inch of her. He lingered where she laughed or sighed. He relished the freshness and near-innocence of this moment, knowing that it wouldn't last, that it would be gone by tomorrow.
Then she seemed to make up her mind. She pulled him up, covering his face with kisses, and drew him deep inside of her. Time stood still, waiting for them both to catch their breath.
﴿﴾
Afterward, they lay quietly together, her hand under Lee's and over his heart. Her head rested comfortably on his shoulder. Lee sighed as he stroked her hair. “Are you done trying to kill yourself for a while?”
Kara stiffened and raised her head to frown at him. “That's not why I did this, Lee.” She was offended that he'd even gone there.
“I know,” he assured her. “And I'm asking as your CAG, not your illicit lover.” He grinned and rolled her onto her back, dropping a kiss on her collar bone.
“Oh, that's convincing,” she scoffed and held on to him, trying to remember why they had felt so complicated before.
He shrugged in response. “It's true. I need to know you're going to come back if I let you out there. I can't just give you what you want, no matter how much I'd like to.”
Oh, that was it. They'd played this game before. “This is going to be my assignment on the Pegasus all over again, isn't it?”
“Yeah.” He curled around her, nuzzling his face into her neck. They were soldiers, and knew exactly what that meant. “On the uh... bright side? Neither of us seem to be very good at getting either of us killed...”
Kara responded with her signature snort. “I don't think that's as reassuring as you intended it to be.” It was another truth, though. For everything that they'd been through, they were both still there. Lee's body was warm and solid around her. She'd never craved the feeling of protection, and she knew that he wasn't offering her that. They both knew that he couldn't, that she'd resent it if he tried, but she felt safe in this moment and clearer about who she was and where she was going than she had in a very long time. “But yeah, my head's back in the game.” It wasn't even the itch to fly that made her answer that way, she realized. She was home, and she had something to live for. Taking a deep breath, she turned her head and placed a gentle kiss in Lee's hair. Home.
﴿﴾
Sam had spent the last few weeks aimlessly wandering the halls of the Galactica. He was one of the civilians who'd been assigned temporary quarters on the battlestar, until the other ships could shuffle beds around to make room for those whose original ships had been lost in the Cloud Nine incident.
At the moment, he was examining a flier posted in the mess. One of the deck hands, he thought he remembered her as Diana Seelix, walked up behind him. “No kidding, huh?” she muttered thoughtfully.
“Mmm,” his returned mutter was equally weighted. “Viper pilots needed.” He squinted, visualizing himself in a Viper cockpit, trying to sense the fit of it. He could practically feel the small craft closing around him, feel the controls under his hands. He nodded. Pilot was a good career these days.
﴿﴾
“Starbuck, Apollo. Cutting the turns a little close, don't you think?” Lee glanced over at Kara's Viper, skimming off the side of one of the Fleet ships, and tried to will his blood pressure to stay down.
“Apollo, Starbuck. What do you mean? There was at least a full wing length between my bird and that hull.” He could hear her grin, and couldn't decide whether to laugh or grind his teeth.
“Yeah, try adding a couple Viper-lengths...” He flinched as she darted over to him at top speed and took up position tight on his 4.
“This better, Sir?” Her voice was full of wide-eyed innocence, and he was sure that her face would have matched if he could have seen it.
He surrendered to the laughter, “Let's just not push it, yet, okay?” He was immensely grateful she was back on her game. Gods, but he'd missed flying CAP with her.
The Cylons had taken off to some unknown location, and had left the Fleet entirely alone since the rescue from New Caprica. Keeping his eyes and ears alert for trouble, Lee relaxed into the pleasant routine of their rounds, letting his mind wander a bit.
When all was said and done, she'd been grounded for less than a week. The combination of being back among the stars and whatever decision she'd made during that first night back with him had worked like a nearly magical cure, restoring her confidence. She was still more risk-prone than he would prefer, but that was par for the course with Kara. She lived to make her CAG nervous.
Lee smiled to himself and glanced back over his shoulder. As much as he knew they were pushing, and breaking, boundaries that they shouldn't, he was enjoying their personal relationship, too. He wouldn't go so far as to say she seemed tame, but as far as Kara went, she'd been downright calm over the last few weeks. Oh, they still had their fights, and one or the other of them was still as likely as ever to walk off and leave the other fuming, but they were also re-finding the joy and the fun that had been between them before she'd flown off to Caprica to fetch Laura Roslin's Arrow of Apollo. It all combined to make other frustrations exponentially more bearable.
His thoughts turned to those frustrations.
His father had Felix puzzling over the notes Gaius had left the Fleet regarding the most likely path to Earth. His re-tracing of the Doctor's research had been slow and painstaking, but it finally looked like they were going to be back on their way soon. It would be a relief to be moving, again. As nice as the routine was, every day they stayed in the same place left everyone a little more anxious that their new-found peace would be shattered yet again.
As long as the peace held, the occasional extra CAP rotations all the pilots were sharing were relatively easy. Easy or not, they had to be done until they could get enough new Viper pilots trained. There were no more officers in the fleet who were either interested in or capable of learning to fly either Raptors or Vipers, so all of their Pilot recruits had to go through Officer training before they could even begin Basic Flight. Not wanting to waste the time of staffers who were already spread thin by virtue of their small numbers, the Admiral had decided on an arbitrary minimum number of Officer candidates that he would require before allowing that training class to begin. The notice had been posted for a week, and at the current pace they were looking at another month before they could start any of this. It would likely be at least three months before they could start putting new people in cockpits. That meant they probably needed at least six months before the new crew would be ready to go. And they could only hope that enough of those recruits would pass to actually make a difference in the number of CAP runs everyone was taking.
Lee shook off his reverie; the rotation was over. He led the CAP back to the flight deck. As he climbed out of his cockpit, Galen called out to him, “How'd she handle, Sir?”
“She was good. You did a good job patching that hydraulic valve.” He looked at the deck chief, and added, “It's good to have you back, Chief.”
Galen nodded, “Hard to believe it's been a month. It's good to be back, though.” As Galen spoke, Lee saw Kara out of the corner of his eye. She'd stopped halfway down from her own Viper, looking like she'd been punched in the gut. He waved his goodbye to Galen and walked quickly over to Kara.
“Are you okay, Kara?” He held out a hand to help her down, and was completely unsurprised when she shrugged it off.
She seemed mostly recovered. “Yeah, fine. I just remembered something.” Lee nodded, and watched as Kara walked away, fairly certain he shouldn't believe her, but also sensing that she needed space at the moment. He sighed, and headed off to the showers.
﴿﴾
Gaius sat in his pre-programmed Raptor, watching the infected basestar grow smaller and smaller as he moved away. He was relatively certain he didn't believe in any gods at all, but he found himself wishing that he did simply so that he could curse them for putting him in his current position. As it stood, he had only himself to blame. That was a highly uncomfortable, and unusual, position for him.
The day before, a basestar had gone to scout the coordinates he'd given them as the next step on the path to Earth. When the basestar hadn't returned, a scout had been sent to investigate. The entire ship had died, infected by some unknown virus that seemed to attack the central nervous system of all Cylons. He'd volunteered to investigate the infected basestar as a means of building the Cylon's trust in him, and the case for continuing to allow him to live. If he could prove himself useful, he stood a better chance of surviving than otherwise. So, one of the Eights who was familiar with Colonial Raptors had set his outgoing course, then set a return course into the ship's memory and told him which buttons to push to access it. His guardian angel (he still rolled his eyes at her self-chosen title) had led him down this path, and then abandoned him once he'd made up his mind to accept her advice. How very like her, he thought bitterly.
He'd not expected the devastation he'd found. Bodies had littered the ground. Hundreds of Cylons had simply fallen in the midst of whatever they'd been doing and died where they lay. Their condition had told him nothing. The pallid skin and dark circles under their eyes resembled the symptoms of at least a dozen human ailments, including malnutrition and exhaustion. He'd seen absolutely nothing to indicate what the specific virus might be.
In the middle of the main control room, he'd found a large metal object, a beacon of some sort. A dark-haired Six model had been lying nearby, and close to death. In the midst of her verbal assault she told him that the beacon had carried the virus. He'd tried to fumble through his med kit to find something to make her more comfortable, but succeeded only in upsetting her right up until the moment of her death. Once she'd passed, Gaius had gone back to examine the beacon more closely. It had no mechanism for dispersing anything, but it did seem to contain the necessary equipment for transmitting a broadcast. It also seemed to be so impossibly old that, if it were still functioning, it would be highly unlikely that anyone would be capable of retrieving that broadcast.
Having punched in the codes to begin his return flight, Gaius turned this information over and over in his mind, trying to decide what to do with it. He was terrified that if he told them everything they would assume he was lying to them, and execute him out of hand. Perhaps it would be wiser to hide his findings. Or maybe even to lie, outright. He closed his eyes to think, and his breath stopped.
D'Anna and Caprica faced him in a barren room. He was sitting on a plush couch in a very appealing red brocade. He cringed slightly as he watched himself babble apologetically about mistakes made and theories he had to offer. They watched him with cold, flat eyes. His pulse raced.
He saw D'Anna leaning over him, a grim smile fixed upon her face. She spoke softly to him, questioning the origin of the beacon. Pain flooded every nerve of his body. Had the beacon, and the virus, been placed by the crew of the Galactica? Agony ripped through him.
Gaius wrenched his mind back to the present, but the memory of those visions continued to haunt him. Things would have been so much simpler had you only told the truth. The words echoed through his mind. He would not make that mistake. There was no point in suffering if it could be avoided. He would tell the Cylons everything he had discovered about this beacon. Whatever else happened, whatever his mind told him, his gut was convincing him that he needed to earn Caprica's trust.
﴿﴾
“Frak me,” Kara muttered to herself as she absorbed Doc Cottle's news.
Doc Cottle had the unusual good grace to respond with nothing more than a loud snort. “The order is confidential. I figure you probably have a week or two to make up your mind. Then we can do what we need to do, and no questions will need to be asked.”
Kara nodded, then walked out of sick bay. Questions would be asked, no matter what Doc Cottle promised, and she would have to answer. She couldn't really make her choice until she had.
She was furious with herself. She'd grown accustomed to making mistakes, but this was truly world-class. She stopped briefly at her locker to grab her boxing gloves and some tape, then went to find the nearest unoccupied punching bag. She had a lot of thinking to do before she would be ready to face any questions.
Lee walked into the room about an hour after she did, holding a sheet of paper in his hand. She studiously ignored him, knowing exactly what that form was, and continued throwing punches at the weighted bag hanging from the ceiling. Her head was swimming and her heart was torn in two and she needed more time to sort them out before she could talk to him.
Lee glanced down at the paper in his hand and then looked at her questioningly, “Kara? Are you okay?”
The question stung. No, she wasn't okay, but she was fine. There was nothing wrong, she just couldn't get anything right. She opted for the most apt-feeling non-answer that came to mind. “I'm a world-class frak-up, remember?” She choked down the pain and memories. Oh, her mother would have known what was up by this point in the conversation, she was sure.
She could read Lee's concern clearly in his eyes. “Kara--”
“Not now, Lee.” She cut him off, still pummeling the punching bag.
“Bu--”
“No.” She stopped this time and looked at him, begging him to understand that she just needed the time.
“When?” His voice was quiet and hard, the muscle along the bottom of his jaw twitching. She knew she owed him some sort of answer.
“Tomorrow,” she said, finally. “When you get off duty.”
Lee nodded once, then turned on his heels and walked out of the room, slamming the hatch behind him. Kara winced and returned to her punching bag.
Was she okay? Yes, no. Gods, she couldn't even answer the question for herself. She understood the how and the why, the mechanics of it were obvious. There was no damage to speak of, at least not any that she hadn't been living with for a very, very long time.
Exhausted from both exertion and thought, she stripped off her gloves and headed to the showers. Self-flagellation was fine as a means of working through shock and anger, but they didn't accomplish much in terms of sorting out what either her head or her heart were telling her.
Could she handle it? No. Yes. Frak, maybe. Circumstances changed everything. Circumstances and friends. Timing mattered, too, probably. Was this the right time? Would she be alone?
There was the question. She spent the night up close and personal with it. It wasn't one she could answer.
Did she want it? She spent the day with that one. The answer had come to her surprisingly quickly. A quiet, small yes filled her heart. Yes, if the timing was right, her head added. Yes, if she wouldn't be alone. She let herself think about it, really consider it, imagine what it would be like. If she could paint it, what would it look like? There was a harmony to it that appealed to her.
The afternoon found her at Lee's door. She knew what she needed to say. She had worked out where her mistake was. But this wasn't the place to talk about it. It was too much Lee's, despite all the nights she'd spent there in his arms. If he disagreed with her about where the mistake was, she needed to be on neutral territory. She needed to remember that she was neither defending nor attacking. She let herself in, grabbed a pen and paper and left a short note.
Observation deck. Kara
The huge room was empty when she arrived. She stood next to the railing, right at the windows, and looked out at the vastness of it all. She ran her realizations over and over in her mind, turning them and spinning them, testing the truth of them, making sure they held.
It seemed a long time before the hatch opened. He didn't say anything, but she knew it was Lee. She could feel his eyes on her back, and refused to turn around. She held her breath and listened as the hatch closed and his foot steps came down the deck, stopping just behind her, off to one side enough so that he could also look out into the stars.
“Do you remember what it felt like the first time you went up out there?” Her voice was soft. She wasn't sure if this was leading in to the questions he wouldn't need to ask, but it felt like the right thing to say, so she was going to roll with it.
She listened to his breathing as he considered her words and the myriad possible meanings beneath them. When he answered, he seemed willing to follow her lead, at least for the moment. “Yes, I do... It was probably one of the most exhilarating, frightening feelings I've ever lived through.”
She smiled gently, of course he would have the perfect words to describe exactly what she'd felt. “It felt so huge, so completely overwhelming. But it also felt more... right... than anything else had ever felt in my life.” She paused, unsure about her next step.
“You were born to fly, Kara.” He stated it as fact, and she knew he believed it.
Her breath caught. He'd given her the perfect opening. She leaped into it with both feet. “I was born to fly with you, Lee.” She turned so that she could see him. A detached corner of her mind noted that he'd changed out of his uniform before coming to find her. She pushed the distracting though aside and continued where she'd left off speaking. “Literally, metaphorically, it doesn't matter. I need you in my life. I need you to fly with me.”
Lee's eyes were bright, flooded with emotion. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, “You know I'll always have your back.”
She nodded, and smiled. She turned back to the stars, and drew strength from his conviction. She would need it for what came next. “I did mean what I said when you asked me if I was okay.” She began. “I really frakked this one up in a big way.” She swallowed, and took a deep breath as she felt his hands rest gently on her shoulders, encouraging her to continue. “But the mistake isn't what I expected it would be.” She stopped, not sure how to go on.
“I don't understand, Kara. Where are you going with this? What are you talking about?” The worry was back in his voice.
She rushed to reassure him. “I'm fine, really. The medical suspension... that is about the single most right thing I've done in my life. The mistake was not talking to you about it as soon as I realized it.” She could still feel his confusion, and her own nerves began to buzz again, jangling about and making her unsure. What if he wasn't ready? Could she let go of that image she'd created in her mind? She couldn't find any graceful, gentle, polished way to say it. Seconds stretched to unbearably long minutes. She shook her head gently, closed her eyes and said it straight. “I'm pregnant.”
Go to Chapter 8
Author: ecstaticdance
Word Count: 40,000
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Lee/Kara
Warnings: Smut. Mysticism. Spoilers through Season 3 for part 1 (to be safe), ultimately through Daybreak.
Summary:All of this has happened before, now we're going to see it happen again. But the Lords of Kobol want to see if they can possibly change it, so key characters have retained the echoes of memories which cause them to make different decisions, or experience things at different times, than in previous cycles.
Notes: This is a completed story. But it's a monster. Somewhere 150,000 words (pre-editing). I'm posting Part 1 now. The rest will be posted... as it's available, probably.
Also (and more importantly) THANK YOU! To christ_chexx_4u for doing such a fabulous beta job for me. And many, many thanks to those of you who cheered me on and supported me from the very beginning of this story. You inspire me.
Finally, thank you to redsmirch for the beautiful painting. She's offered to create some more for me, which I'll post links to as it becomes available. The image included here is a point I'm driving toward, which... comes later in the story. So it probably won't make much sense next to what you're reading just yet. But it's beautiful and needs to be shared.
Artist: redsmirch
Link to Art: And the darkness behind her pearled and flushed
Return to Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Lee had decided, after their boxing match, to give Kara space to sort herself out a bit before he tried to talk to her. Or so he told himself. If he was completely honest, the flood of emotions their bout had released for her had frightened him. Stony and stoic, or bitter and violent he was used to most of Kara's dark moods, and could navigate them competently, if not comfortably. He'd never seen anything so devastating as a shattered, weeping Kara. He was on unfamiliar ground, and needed to get his own bearings before he could do anything more for her.
When he opened the hatch to the pilot's rec room, he found her sharing a quiet moment with a bottle of ambrosia, her back to the entrance. From what he saw, however, she was spending more time looking at it than drinking it. He watched her for a while, wondering if he should speak up or walk away.
He'd never been good at walking away from her.
Making up his mind, he closed the hatch and started walking toward her as he spoke. “Hey.”
She responded, her voice flat and unsurprised, without turning toward him. “I wondered how long it would take for you to find me.”
He laughed once, softly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a bitter grin, “Yeah, well... There room here for another?” He put his hand on the back of a second chair at her table.
She nodded. “Pull up a chair, grab a glass.” She poured him a shot and went back to swirling the contents of the bottle. After a long silence, she offered, “I went to see Kacey yesterday.”
Lee held his glass and watched Kara tease her lower lip with her teeth.
Still watching the liquid in front of her, Kara spoke again. Her voice was distant, almost as if she were speaking more to herself than to him. “You asked me once what they'd done to me while I was back on Caprica.” Lee said nothing. His heart missed a beat. That had been before New Caprica. Gods, he thought, does it go back that far? She continued. “I think they were opening the door for what happened on New Caprica.” Confused, he watched her. “They pushed buttons. Brought up things, memories, that I've worked for years to forget. Things I told myself I'd gotten over, because there wasn't a damn thing I could do about them anyways.” He thought back, remembered conversations with Zak that had hinted at the misery that had been Kara's life before she'd completed her education. His own eyes misted. He knew what was coming next. “I feel like I relived all of it, Lee.”
She finally looked up at him, and held his gaze. Her expression was utterly unreadable. He closed his eyes, trying to blink back the unshed tears. He wanted to gather her up and put the broken pieces back together. He whispered, “I'm so sorry.”
She made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “When he brought Kacey into my cell, he told me she was mine. I fought it so... so frakking hard. Kids are brats, they get in the way, they mess things up... And then she fell down the stairs.” Lee's eyes opened and flew to Kara's face. Her jaw was set, but he couldn't tell if it was anger or fear. Perhaps it was both. “Seeing her lying there was like watching the worlds end all over again, and I know it doesn't make sense, but I would have done anything to fix it, to have been in the room and kept her safe. I just...” She trailed off into silence, seemingly unable to put her thoughts into words.
When Lee realized she wasn't going to say anything more, he breeched the silence.
“It doesn't make much sense, does it?”
She froze for the briefest moment, glanced at him, eyes full of pain, then looked away again before answering. “Nope. Doesn't.”
They both sat staring at their drinks, not sure where to go next. Lee dared to push the issue. “Maybe that's the point. Maybe it isn't supposed to make sense.”
Kara leveled a disbelieving glance in his direction. “Thinking about porch swings and white picket fences again, Leland?”
Lee paused, realizing that was exactly what it sounded like. “I don't know,” he admitted. “I mean, not now, but someday. Maybe.”
He watched as something undefinable changed in her posture. Was the wall going up or coming down? She had a list of reasons to shy away from parenthood that dwarfed anything he might come up with. But without even trying he could think of a dozen people he'd known before the worlds had ended who had tried it and succeeded, in as much as anyone could be successful in such a thing. If that was what she - they - wanted at some undefined point in the future... Well, maybe it didn't look so scary with Kara by his side. He took a chance, leaned forward and reached a hand out to gently turn her face toward his. She offered no resistance, and made no discernible effort to hide the emotions that played across her face. Confusion gave way to acceptance and fear danced with hope.
“I love you, Kara Thrace, and I believe that you are greater than the sum of your past.” He whispered the words reverently, running his thumb along the curve of her cheek. He held her gaze for a moment, then blushed, looking away, pulling back his hand and standing to leave.
Kara caught his hand, then stood up in front of him. She looked up at him, her hazel eyes bright and deep with emotion. She opened her mouth, as if to speak, then closed it, took a deep breath and tried again. “How do you do it, Lee? How do you crawl under my frakking skin without even trying? How can you believe in me after everything I've done to you?”
Lee stood, lost in her eyes, trying to decide if she actually wanted him to answer her questions. She must have seen his distress, because she laughed softly and shook her head. “Forget it, Lee.” She watched him a moment longer, then draped her free arm around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a sweet, lingering kiss.
He would never quite recall how they made it back to his quarters, or how long it took them to get there. He would never actually find out if the other pilots really were sending knowing glances his way after that day, or if he was imagining them. But he would never forget the way her blond hair swung around her face, or the way her eyes drilled into him, as if they were the only two people in the universe.
She didn't rush, this time, didn't push. She moved slowly, exploring his body as if they'd never been together before. It reminded him of the night they'd spent on New Caprica in many ways, but there was a new element to this encounter. Underneath the tenderness was a hesitation, as if Kara was using the time to make a decision that weighed heavily on her.
He didn't push, even held back. He smiled slowly and covered her body with gentle kisses, tasting every inch of her. He lingered where she laughed or sighed. He relished the freshness and near-innocence of this moment, knowing that it wouldn't last, that it would be gone by tomorrow.
Then she seemed to make up her mind. She pulled him up, covering his face with kisses, and drew him deep inside of her. Time stood still, waiting for them both to catch their breath.
﴿﴾
Afterward, they lay quietly together, her hand under Lee's and over his heart. Her head rested comfortably on his shoulder. Lee sighed as he stroked her hair. “Are you done trying to kill yourself for a while?”
Kara stiffened and raised her head to frown at him. “That's not why I did this, Lee.” She was offended that he'd even gone there.
“I know,” he assured her. “And I'm asking as your CAG, not your illicit lover.” He grinned and rolled her onto her back, dropping a kiss on her collar bone.
“Oh, that's convincing,” she scoffed and held on to him, trying to remember why they had felt so complicated before.
He shrugged in response. “It's true. I need to know you're going to come back if I let you out there. I can't just give you what you want, no matter how much I'd like to.”
Oh, that was it. They'd played this game before. “This is going to be my assignment on the Pegasus all over again, isn't it?”
“Yeah.” He curled around her, nuzzling his face into her neck. They were soldiers, and knew exactly what that meant. “On the uh... bright side? Neither of us seem to be very good at getting either of us killed...”
Kara responded with her signature snort. “I don't think that's as reassuring as you intended it to be.” It was another truth, though. For everything that they'd been through, they were both still there. Lee's body was warm and solid around her. She'd never craved the feeling of protection, and she knew that he wasn't offering her that. They both knew that he couldn't, that she'd resent it if he tried, but she felt safe in this moment and clearer about who she was and where she was going than she had in a very long time. “But yeah, my head's back in the game.” It wasn't even the itch to fly that made her answer that way, she realized. She was home, and she had something to live for. Taking a deep breath, she turned her head and placed a gentle kiss in Lee's hair. Home.
﴿﴾
Sam had spent the last few weeks aimlessly wandering the halls of the Galactica. He was one of the civilians who'd been assigned temporary quarters on the battlestar, until the other ships could shuffle beds around to make room for those whose original ships had been lost in the Cloud Nine incident.
At the moment, he was examining a flier posted in the mess. One of the deck hands, he thought he remembered her as Diana Seelix, walked up behind him. “No kidding, huh?” she muttered thoughtfully.
“Mmm,” his returned mutter was equally weighted. “Viper pilots needed.” He squinted, visualizing himself in a Viper cockpit, trying to sense the fit of it. He could practically feel the small craft closing around him, feel the controls under his hands. He nodded. Pilot was a good career these days.
﴿﴾
“Starbuck, Apollo. Cutting the turns a little close, don't you think?” Lee glanced over at Kara's Viper, skimming off the side of one of the Fleet ships, and tried to will his blood pressure to stay down.
“Apollo, Starbuck. What do you mean? There was at least a full wing length between my bird and that hull.” He could hear her grin, and couldn't decide whether to laugh or grind his teeth.
“Yeah, try adding a couple Viper-lengths...” He flinched as she darted over to him at top speed and took up position tight on his 4.
“This better, Sir?” Her voice was full of wide-eyed innocence, and he was sure that her face would have matched if he could have seen it.
He surrendered to the laughter, “Let's just not push it, yet, okay?” He was immensely grateful she was back on her game. Gods, but he'd missed flying CAP with her.
The Cylons had taken off to some unknown location, and had left the Fleet entirely alone since the rescue from New Caprica. Keeping his eyes and ears alert for trouble, Lee relaxed into the pleasant routine of their rounds, letting his mind wander a bit.
When all was said and done, she'd been grounded for less than a week. The combination of being back among the stars and whatever decision she'd made during that first night back with him had worked like a nearly magical cure, restoring her confidence. She was still more risk-prone than he would prefer, but that was par for the course with Kara. She lived to make her CAG nervous.
Lee smiled to himself and glanced back over his shoulder. As much as he knew they were pushing, and breaking, boundaries that they shouldn't, he was enjoying their personal relationship, too. He wouldn't go so far as to say she seemed tame, but as far as Kara went, she'd been downright calm over the last few weeks. Oh, they still had their fights, and one or the other of them was still as likely as ever to walk off and leave the other fuming, but they were also re-finding the joy and the fun that had been between them before she'd flown off to Caprica to fetch Laura Roslin's Arrow of Apollo. It all combined to make other frustrations exponentially more bearable.
His thoughts turned to those frustrations.
His father had Felix puzzling over the notes Gaius had left the Fleet regarding the most likely path to Earth. His re-tracing of the Doctor's research had been slow and painstaking, but it finally looked like they were going to be back on their way soon. It would be a relief to be moving, again. As nice as the routine was, every day they stayed in the same place left everyone a little more anxious that their new-found peace would be shattered yet again.
As long as the peace held, the occasional extra CAP rotations all the pilots were sharing were relatively easy. Easy or not, they had to be done until they could get enough new Viper pilots trained. There were no more officers in the fleet who were either interested in or capable of learning to fly either Raptors or Vipers, so all of their Pilot recruits had to go through Officer training before they could even begin Basic Flight. Not wanting to waste the time of staffers who were already spread thin by virtue of their small numbers, the Admiral had decided on an arbitrary minimum number of Officer candidates that he would require before allowing that training class to begin. The notice had been posted for a week, and at the current pace they were looking at another month before they could start any of this. It would likely be at least three months before they could start putting new people in cockpits. That meant they probably needed at least six months before the new crew would be ready to go. And they could only hope that enough of those recruits would pass to actually make a difference in the number of CAP runs everyone was taking.
Lee shook off his reverie; the rotation was over. He led the CAP back to the flight deck. As he climbed out of his cockpit, Galen called out to him, “How'd she handle, Sir?”
“She was good. You did a good job patching that hydraulic valve.” He looked at the deck chief, and added, “It's good to have you back, Chief.”
Galen nodded, “Hard to believe it's been a month. It's good to be back, though.” As Galen spoke, Lee saw Kara out of the corner of his eye. She'd stopped halfway down from her own Viper, looking like she'd been punched in the gut. He waved his goodbye to Galen and walked quickly over to Kara.
“Are you okay, Kara?” He held out a hand to help her down, and was completely unsurprised when she shrugged it off.
She seemed mostly recovered. “Yeah, fine. I just remembered something.” Lee nodded, and watched as Kara walked away, fairly certain he shouldn't believe her, but also sensing that she needed space at the moment. He sighed, and headed off to the showers.
﴿﴾
Gaius sat in his pre-programmed Raptor, watching the infected basestar grow smaller and smaller as he moved away. He was relatively certain he didn't believe in any gods at all, but he found himself wishing that he did simply so that he could curse them for putting him in his current position. As it stood, he had only himself to blame. That was a highly uncomfortable, and unusual, position for him.
The day before, a basestar had gone to scout the coordinates he'd given them as the next step on the path to Earth. When the basestar hadn't returned, a scout had been sent to investigate. The entire ship had died, infected by some unknown virus that seemed to attack the central nervous system of all Cylons. He'd volunteered to investigate the infected basestar as a means of building the Cylon's trust in him, and the case for continuing to allow him to live. If he could prove himself useful, he stood a better chance of surviving than otherwise. So, one of the Eights who was familiar with Colonial Raptors had set his outgoing course, then set a return course into the ship's memory and told him which buttons to push to access it. His guardian angel (he still rolled his eyes at her self-chosen title) had led him down this path, and then abandoned him once he'd made up his mind to accept her advice. How very like her, he thought bitterly.
He'd not expected the devastation he'd found. Bodies had littered the ground. Hundreds of Cylons had simply fallen in the midst of whatever they'd been doing and died where they lay. Their condition had told him nothing. The pallid skin and dark circles under their eyes resembled the symptoms of at least a dozen human ailments, including malnutrition and exhaustion. He'd seen absolutely nothing to indicate what the specific virus might be.
In the middle of the main control room, he'd found a large metal object, a beacon of some sort. A dark-haired Six model had been lying nearby, and close to death. In the midst of her verbal assault she told him that the beacon had carried the virus. He'd tried to fumble through his med kit to find something to make her more comfortable, but succeeded only in upsetting her right up until the moment of her death. Once she'd passed, Gaius had gone back to examine the beacon more closely. It had no mechanism for dispersing anything, but it did seem to contain the necessary equipment for transmitting a broadcast. It also seemed to be so impossibly old that, if it were still functioning, it would be highly unlikely that anyone would be capable of retrieving that broadcast.
Having punched in the codes to begin his return flight, Gaius turned this information over and over in his mind, trying to decide what to do with it. He was terrified that if he told them everything they would assume he was lying to them, and execute him out of hand. Perhaps it would be wiser to hide his findings. Or maybe even to lie, outright. He closed his eyes to think, and his breath stopped.
D'Anna and Caprica faced him in a barren room. He was sitting on a plush couch in a very appealing red brocade. He cringed slightly as he watched himself babble apologetically about mistakes made and theories he had to offer. They watched him with cold, flat eyes. His pulse raced.
He saw D'Anna leaning over him, a grim smile fixed upon her face. She spoke softly to him, questioning the origin of the beacon. Pain flooded every nerve of his body. Had the beacon, and the virus, been placed by the crew of the Galactica? Agony ripped through him.
Gaius wrenched his mind back to the present, but the memory of those visions continued to haunt him. Things would have been so much simpler had you only told the truth. The words echoed through his mind. He would not make that mistake. There was no point in suffering if it could be avoided. He would tell the Cylons everything he had discovered about this beacon. Whatever else happened, whatever his mind told him, his gut was convincing him that he needed to earn Caprica's trust.
﴿﴾
“Frak me,” Kara muttered to herself as she absorbed Doc Cottle's news.
Doc Cottle had the unusual good grace to respond with nothing more than a loud snort. “The order is confidential. I figure you probably have a week or two to make up your mind. Then we can do what we need to do, and no questions will need to be asked.”
Kara nodded, then walked out of sick bay. Questions would be asked, no matter what Doc Cottle promised, and she would have to answer. She couldn't really make her choice until she had.
She was furious with herself. She'd grown accustomed to making mistakes, but this was truly world-class. She stopped briefly at her locker to grab her boxing gloves and some tape, then went to find the nearest unoccupied punching bag. She had a lot of thinking to do before she would be ready to face any questions.
Lee walked into the room about an hour after she did, holding a sheet of paper in his hand. She studiously ignored him, knowing exactly what that form was, and continued throwing punches at the weighted bag hanging from the ceiling. Her head was swimming and her heart was torn in two and she needed more time to sort them out before she could talk to him.
Lee glanced down at the paper in his hand and then looked at her questioningly, “Kara? Are you okay?”
The question stung. No, she wasn't okay, but she was fine. There was nothing wrong, she just couldn't get anything right. She opted for the most apt-feeling non-answer that came to mind. “I'm a world-class frak-up, remember?” She choked down the pain and memories. Oh, her mother would have known what was up by this point in the conversation, she was sure.
She could read Lee's concern clearly in his eyes. “Kara--”
“Not now, Lee.” She cut him off, still pummeling the punching bag.
“Bu--”
“No.” She stopped this time and looked at him, begging him to understand that she just needed the time.
“When?” His voice was quiet and hard, the muscle along the bottom of his jaw twitching. She knew she owed him some sort of answer.
“Tomorrow,” she said, finally. “When you get off duty.”
Lee nodded once, then turned on his heels and walked out of the room, slamming the hatch behind him. Kara winced and returned to her punching bag.
Was she okay? Yes, no. Gods, she couldn't even answer the question for herself. She understood the how and the why, the mechanics of it were obvious. There was no damage to speak of, at least not any that she hadn't been living with for a very, very long time.
Exhausted from both exertion and thought, she stripped off her gloves and headed to the showers. Self-flagellation was fine as a means of working through shock and anger, but they didn't accomplish much in terms of sorting out what either her head or her heart were telling her.
Could she handle it? No. Yes. Frak, maybe. Circumstances changed everything. Circumstances and friends. Timing mattered, too, probably. Was this the right time? Would she be alone?
There was the question. She spent the night up close and personal with it. It wasn't one she could answer.
Did she want it? She spent the day with that one. The answer had come to her surprisingly quickly. A quiet, small yes filled her heart. Yes, if the timing was right, her head added. Yes, if she wouldn't be alone. She let herself think about it, really consider it, imagine what it would be like. If she could paint it, what would it look like? There was a harmony to it that appealed to her.
The afternoon found her at Lee's door. She knew what she needed to say. She had worked out where her mistake was. But this wasn't the place to talk about it. It was too much Lee's, despite all the nights she'd spent there in his arms. If he disagreed with her about where the mistake was, she needed to be on neutral territory. She needed to remember that she was neither defending nor attacking. She let herself in, grabbed a pen and paper and left a short note.
Observation deck. Kara
The huge room was empty when she arrived. She stood next to the railing, right at the windows, and looked out at the vastness of it all. She ran her realizations over and over in her mind, turning them and spinning them, testing the truth of them, making sure they held.
It seemed a long time before the hatch opened. He didn't say anything, but she knew it was Lee. She could feel his eyes on her back, and refused to turn around. She held her breath and listened as the hatch closed and his foot steps came down the deck, stopping just behind her, off to one side enough so that he could also look out into the stars.
“Do you remember what it felt like the first time you went up out there?” Her voice was soft. She wasn't sure if this was leading in to the questions he wouldn't need to ask, but it felt like the right thing to say, so she was going to roll with it.
She listened to his breathing as he considered her words and the myriad possible meanings beneath them. When he answered, he seemed willing to follow her lead, at least for the moment. “Yes, I do... It was probably one of the most exhilarating, frightening feelings I've ever lived through.”
She smiled gently, of course he would have the perfect words to describe exactly what she'd felt. “It felt so huge, so completely overwhelming. But it also felt more... right... than anything else had ever felt in my life.” She paused, unsure about her next step.
“You were born to fly, Kara.” He stated it as fact, and she knew he believed it.
Her breath caught. He'd given her the perfect opening. She leaped into it with both feet. “I was born to fly with you, Lee.” She turned so that she could see him. A detached corner of her mind noted that he'd changed out of his uniform before coming to find her. She pushed the distracting though aside and continued where she'd left off speaking. “Literally, metaphorically, it doesn't matter. I need you in my life. I need you to fly with me.”
Lee's eyes were bright, flooded with emotion. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, “You know I'll always have your back.”
She nodded, and smiled. She turned back to the stars, and drew strength from his conviction. She would need it for what came next. “I did mean what I said when you asked me if I was okay.” She began. “I really frakked this one up in a big way.” She swallowed, and took a deep breath as she felt his hands rest gently on her shoulders, encouraging her to continue. “But the mistake isn't what I expected it would be.” She stopped, not sure how to go on.
“I don't understand, Kara. Where are you going with this? What are you talking about?” The worry was back in his voice.
She rushed to reassure him. “I'm fine, really. The medical suspension... that is about the single most right thing I've done in my life. The mistake was not talking to you about it as soon as I realized it.” She could still feel his confusion, and her own nerves began to buzz again, jangling about and making her unsure. What if he wasn't ready? Could she let go of that image she'd created in her mind? She couldn't find any graceful, gentle, polished way to say it. Seconds stretched to unbearably long minutes. She shook her head gently, closed her eyes and said it straight. “I'm pregnant.”
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