Treats :)
I wrote a lot of treats. And I actually finished them all! I tried to keep them short, but, well, you know me. So, here we go, sixteen (I think) treats :)
Bill and Saul, post-election
"Bill, there's something I've gotta tell you."
"No you don't." Bill poured them each a glass of whiskey. "You don't want to tell me."
"You already know," Saul grunted.
"That you tried to help Roslin steal the election? Yes."
"I don't regret it," Saul said.
"You would have, if you’d gone through with it. It would have eaten at your soul."
Saul snorted. "No it wouldn't have. And even if it had, it would have been a small price to pay to keep Baltar from being President and settling us on that mudball he's got his heart set on."
Bill's glance was direct and piercing. "What you call a small price would have still been too high."
Leoben and a Three, New Caprica
"I don't understand what you're looking for," the Three said, her arms crossed as she looked at the haven that Leoben had built. "She's a human. She doesn't hold the answers to enlightenment."
"You need to expand your definitions," Leoben said, running his hand over the smooth wood of the banister. "Enlightenment- and God- can be found in places you might never expect. The swirling of a stream, the underside of a rock-" the Three snorted at that- "or yes, a human."
"I think I'll go turn over a few rocks," the Three said. "It seems like a more likely hiding place for the presence of God."
"You do that," Leoben said, completely unaffected. "But my pilgrimage will be in here."
Laura, Tory, and head!Billy, post Captain's Hand
"Madame President, are you all right?" Tory asked.
Laura looked away from the window and pulled in a deep breath. "Yes," she lied. "I'm fine."
Over Tory's shoulder, Billy crossed his arms. "No you're not."
"Excuse me?" Laura asked, blinking, because Billy was dead.
"I didn't say anything," Tory said.
"You're not all right," Billy continued. "How can you do this? It goes against everything you believe in!"
"I know," Laura said, rubbing her forehead.
"All right." Tory looked confused. "Is there anything else, Madame President?"
"Any other rights you'd like to take away?" Billy asked caustically.
"No. That's all."
"Very good."
Laura waited until Tory left, and then closed her eyes. When she opened them, Billy was still standing there, although the look on his face softened. "It wasn't about political gain," she told him. "It's about saving the human race."
"There are other ways to do it," Billy said. "Incentives for adoption, education…."
"It's not that simple," Laura said. "Nothing is ever that simple. If it was, you would still be here."
His hand on hers actually felt warm. "You're right," he said, but he didn't clarify. Laura closed her eyes again, and this time, when she opened them, he was gone.
Finn and Kurt, Halloween
"So what are you going to be for Halloween?" Finn asked, plopping down beside Kurt.
"Really? Are we trick-or-treating?" Kurt asked, flipping the channel on the TV.
"No. Brittany's party."
"Oh. That's right. With everything else going on, I sort of forgot."
A thought occurred to Finn. "You are invited, right? Even though you guys are running against each other?"
"I am. Brittany isn't much for grudges," Kurt admitted. "But I am ashamed to say I have no ideas for a costume. What are you going as?"
"A ghost," Finn said promptly.
"A ghost. Like, a cut holes in the sheet and drape it over your head ghost?"
"Yup."
Kurt stared at him. "You're how old again?"
"Haha. Just because it's not some complicated get-up like you'd wear doesn't mean it isn't a cool costume."
"You do realize," Kurt said, with a look on his face that meant he was going for the kill, "that you can't eat in that costume."
"Oh." Oh. "I didn't think of that."
"I assumed."
Finn said back, frowning. "Great. Now what do I do?"
"Ask Rachel. I'm sure she's got some brilliant and nauseating couple costume for you two to be."
"Yeah, but I really don't want to be the Scarecrow while she's Dorothy. She suggested that you be the Tin Man, by the way."
"And Blaine is the Lion?"
"Toto."
Kurt tried to glare, but he couldn't resist a snicker. "Right."
"So what are you two going to be?"
"We're not dressing up together. It's too…"
"Cliché?"
"Limiting. Blaine wants to be a football player."
"A football player."
"Exactly. The lack of imagination is just astounding."
"Not to mention he is kind of short." Finn considered it. "We could always dress up together."
"As what?"
"The Muppet scientist and Beaker?"
"No."
"Scooby-Doo and Shaggy?"
"NO."
"Han Solo and Chewbacca?"
"N- well… maybe."
"You could bedazzle a gun," Finn said temptingly. "And wear really fabulous boots. I'd even let you do the straps for Chewie. Come on. How often do you get to dress your stepbrother in jeweled bondage gear?"
That did it, and Kurt grinned. "I am definitely in."
Laura and Tory, girl talk
"Come on, Laura," Tory urged. "You need a break."
"All right." Laura took a deep breath and followed Tory into the bar tent. The canvas alone would have cut down on the cold from the New Caprica winds, but the number of people pressed inside helped as well. "We're never going to get a table!" Laura shouted to Tory.
"You leave that to me," Tory said. Ten minutes later, they were seated. Laura wasn't sure if someone was buried under the ground beneath them, but decided not to ask.
"Why is it so crowded?" Laura asked when Tory returned with drinks. "Aside from people needing to drink away their misery, that is?"
"Isn't that reason enough?" Tory asked with a shrug. Laura laughed bitterly. "So tell me," Tory said, sipping her drink, "now that we're alone, what is going on with you and the Vice President?"
Laura blinked. "The Vice President? That's a new one. Usually it's Maya bugging me about the Admiral."
"I know I'm not going to get anything out of you there," Tory sighed, and Laura had to admit she was right, because she'd tried. "So, time to squeeze blood from a new stone. I've seen the way Zarek looks at you."
Laura shuddered. "Ugh."
"Really?" Tory arched an eyebrow. "He might be a terrorist, but he is kind of cute."
"Gaius Baltar is also a handsome man," Laura admitted. "I'm not frakking him anytime soon, either."
"Gee, why not?" Tory said, and both of them dissolved into giggles. "I wonder if he's as short elsewhere as he is height-wise."
"Probably. He practically screams 'compensation'." Laura found a vicious pleasure in that thought. "Gaius Baltar. Big mind, big ego, small dick."
"New campaign slogan," Tory agreed, and they clinked their glasses together.
Gaeta, Zarek, and Adama, AU mutiny ending
Adama led them down to the deck, surrounded by armed, loyal marines. Felix was having a hard time, dragging himself along on the crutches without any prosthetic. He was exhausted, and his arms were trembling. Adama didn't look back, but he did slow his pace. But when he faltered, it was Tom who caught his arm and steadied him.
"Thanks," Felix muttered, but was too empty to feel much gratitude. At the end of this walk there would be a chair and a firing squad and then it would all be over. He was ready for that. He was also wrong.
They stopped in the landing bay, where several Raptors were waiting. "What's going on?" Tom asked, looking at the Raptors.
Adama turned to face them. "You don't like the way things are being run? Fine. You do better. You've got the Prometheus. It's all yours. You go your way, and we'll go ours."
"Wait seriously?" Tom asked, his fingers tightening around Felix's arm. "You're letting us go?"
"We're letting you go."
"With no defenses, no tylium refining, no sewage refining, no algae supplies…" Felix said tiredly. "It's a slow death rather than a fast one." He saw the truth of that in Adama's eyes.
But Zarek shook his head. "Only if we don't find a habitable planet first. And we will. Come on, Felix. We finally have a dawn of new hope." He headed for the Raptor, head held high.
Felix couldn't follow, not yet. He stood for a long moment, watching Adama. Adama stared back, steely, giving away nothing.
"I don't know whether I should be thanking you or cursing you."
"Ishay's coming with you. You'll have medical care. I suspect some ships will follow you as well." Adama was angry. "We're giving people time to make their choice. Those that come with you are your responsibility now. See how well you wear it. How easy it is."
Felix closed his eyes. "I never said it was easy," he said quietly. "I know it wasn't. That wasn't the point."
"Then what was the point, Mr. Gaeta?"
Felix sighed. "If you haven't understood it by now, you never will. Good bye, Admiral."
"Goodbye, Mr. Gaeta." Neither of them wished the other luck.
Gaeta and Dee, geeking out
"What do you mean, you've never seen Galaxy Battles?" Dee asked, once she was able to shut her mouth. "You're a geek! You're geekier than any guy I know, and I mean that as a compliment!"
"I know. Thank you," Felix said. He shrugged, tapping his cards on the table. "I just never saw it. It's my dark and shameful secret from my past. You should feel flattered that I even told you."
"Don't get me wrong, I am," Dee said. "But how did you manage that?"
Felix shrugged again, affecting indifference. "My family didn't have a lot of money when I was growing up," he said.
"I know that."
"Yeah, well, when Galaxy Battles came out, it was a really tight time for us, so I couldn't afford to go. I did get a copy of the novelization out of the library, though, and read that so I could pretend I'd seen it. Don't look at me like that!" he said when Dee's expression melted. "It's not that big a deal!"
"Not that big a deal? Felix, it's Galaxy Battles. It's a cornerstone of culture, a foundation for our generation."
"You sound like Tom Zarek. OUCH!" He rubbed his shin. "That hurt! You're wearing steel-toed boots, you know."
"You deserved it," Dee said primly. "Besides, now we're even, and we can go use your rank to commandeer a television and host a Galaxy Battles marathon. Because I'm serious, Felix, you can't die without seeing this movie."
Recognizing a lost cause when saw it, Felix saluted. "Yes, sir."
Gaeta/Narcho, AU Demetrius
"Frak this shit!" Noel yelled, punching the wall. "You are not going!"
"Want to tell the Admiral that, Noel?" Felix asked dryly, shoving things into his bag. "Because it's not my idea to go traipsing around on a sewage ship chasing Starbuck's visions."
"So why go? For gods' sake, stand up for yourself, Felix! Tell him no!"
"Stand up for myself? This is the military, Noel, not a playground bully! I do what I'm ordered to do and go where I'm ordered to go, and you know that as well as anybody. Better, even, given that you were on the Pegasus."
"I still don’t like it!"
"Neither do I!"
"Then why are you going?" Noel yelled. "Do you really think that Starbuck is having visions? That she knows the way to some mythical planet called Earth and can lead us there by her feelings?"
"No! Of course not!"
"Then why go?"
"Because I have to!" Felix roared. "I have to, and I have no choice! All I can do is follow along and try to not to kill Kara and everyone else on this godsdamned fools' mission, and hope like hell that by some freak chance we stumble across something that makes the slightest bit of sense! Luck's all we've got anymore! Pure, stinking, blind luck! And if you think I want to leave you and the Galactica and go on a sewage ship with Kara Thrace chasing nothing, then you don't know me very well at all!"
Felix wasn't surprised when Noel grabbed him, pulling him close roughly and kissing him as hard as he could. He kissed back, just as fierce, all too aware that this might be the last time.
Two hours later, after they'd finished and he'd collected himself, gotten one last decent shower, and finished packing, Felix made his way down to the landing bay. He had no idea where Noel had gotten to, but he couldn't blame him. Noel wasn't supposed to know about this mission in the first place. Which was why he was surprised when he saw Helo shaking Noel's hand in front of a Raptor.
"I really do owe you for this, man," Helo was saying gratefully. "I know I should go but-"
"No. Hera needs at least one parent here," Noel said, clasping Helo on the arm. "It makes sense to send Sharon in case we run into any Cylons, but you need to be here with your daughter."
"And you really believe her?" Helo asked. "You really believe Kara?"
"No. But damned if I have any other ideas, and I've got my own reasons for going on this mission," Noel said. He flicked a glance at Felix, who dropped his bag. Helo followed the glance and nodded.
"Right. I get it. Well, good luck. Both of you."
"You, too," Noel said. He turned away from Helo and smiled fully at Felix. "Are you coming, Lieutenant Gaeta."
"Noel? What the-"
"I volunteered," Noel said. "If you're going on this frakking mission, I'm coming with you. I'm not just letting you walk off without doing something about it." His scowl was dark and deep as he said it, but to Felix, it was the most beautiful expression in the world.
"Thank you," he said, stopping by Noel and squeezing his hand. "You have no idea… Thank you."
Noel smiled. "Only for you, Felix. That's the only reason I'd ever do this, to make sure you're safe."
"I know. Thank you." Felix's heart was so much lighter as he boarded the Raptor for the Demetrius. And he had no idea of how much his world had just changed for the better.
Gaeta and Hoshi teach at Dalton
Felix was settled in one of the plush leather armchairs outside of the study room where the Warblers held their rehearsals. Louis wasn't surprised- it was one of Felix's favorite places. The cane he still used was resting against the wall.
"Is there a reason they're singing a break-up song?" Felix asked as Louis approached.
"Huh?"
"A break-up song. Listen."
"It's pretty," Louis said, after he'd listened to the song through the door for a bit. "What's it called?"
"'Candles'. And the countertenor is sharp," Felix sighed. "I wish I could go in there and tell them that."
"Why don't you?"
Felix's gaze was level. "You know Dalton's policy as well as I do. If student organizations don't want a faculty advisor, they don't have to have one."
"But you could still tell him he's sharp." Louis sat down in the chair next to Felix. "You would love to be their advisor, wouldn't you?"
"I would," Felix admitted. "But the Council has made their wishes very clear. So I'll have to settle for being their math teacher." He brightened. "Which has its perks over being a Fleet navigator."
"Oh, come on. Adama and Tigh were easier to deal with than a room of boys that don't want to learn Calculus. Or physics, as the case may be," Louis groaned.
Felix looked sympathetic. "Bad day?"
"Not really. No, really. I just sometimes forget this is Earth, not the Colonies, and you and I…."
Felix touched his hand. "That people would respond better to the fact that we're from outer space than they do that we're together?"
"Yeah."
"Who was it?"
"Just Johnson again. And nothing I could report, either," Louis said as Felix opened his mouth. "He's good at the insinuations."
"I'm sorry," Felix said, taking a quick moment to squeeze Louis's hand. The clattering from inside the rehearsal room made them pull apart, and the doors flew open to allow the boys to pour out. A few of them shouted hellos to the two teachers watching, but for the most part, they were intent on their own conversations. Louis noticed Felix was smiling a little as he watched them all go.
"You ready?" Louis asked him. "We should probably go if we’re going to beat rush hour."
"Yeah, wait. Just a minute." Felix reached over for his cane, but it fell and rolled. "Frak," he swore quietly.
"I'll get it for you, Mr. Gaeta."
Louis startled. He hadn't noticed that two of the Warblers were still left behind- Blaine Anderson, who was in his seventh period class, and Kurt Hummel, who was in Chemistry this year.
"Oh. Thank you, Blaine." Felix smiled at him. "But I can get it." He started to stand, and automatically, Louis reached out and helped him. Blaine was already chasing the cane, but the gesture and all its implied intimacy weren't lost on Kurt, whose eyes widened. Louis self-consciously dropped his hand, and Kurt's expression changed to something Louis didn't understand.
Blaine returned the cane to Felix. "Here you go, Mr. Gaeta," he said, laying it across his two open palms.
"I feel like you should kneel and I should knight you," Felix laughed. "Thank you, Mr. Anderson."
"You're welcome. Were you listening to us singing?"
"Er-"
"We were. You sounded great," Louis said.
"Thanks." Blaine was all confidence. Kurt's expression was harder to read. "Well, we'd better go. See you around, Mr. Hoshi. Mr. Gaeta."
"Have a good weekend, boys. Good luck in your competition," Felix shouted after them.
As they walked away, Blaine reached out and took Kurt's hand. Kurt looked back, just a quick glance, and then threaded his fingers through Blaine's. "Oh," Louis said, a little amused.
Felix snorted. "It's about time. That's why I asked why they were singing a break-up song."
"I see. Why didn't you tell him he was sharp?" Louis asked.
"I couldn't. He'll figure it out."
"Such a hard-ass of a teacher," Louis sighed. He reached for Felix's hand. "Come on. We'd better get home."
Felix had his cane, but he leaned harder on Louis. "I agree," he said. "Let's go home."
Tigh, Gaeta, and Hoshi during Revelations
So now everyone knew. Everyone on the whole damn ship knew he was a Cylon, and he wasn't being put out the airlock for it. He still had no idea what Bill was going to say once he recovered from the shock. He could say anything, and Saul wouldn't blame him.
He should go into the CIC. Bill was in no shape to command, and as of right now, he was still the XO of this ship. He took a deep breath, opened his flask to take a drink, rethought it and put it away, and started for the CIC. And then stopped right at the door. Lieutenant Hoshi was holding the CIC door open, and Gaeta was awkwardly navigating his way through the door. They saw him and stopped still. Hoshi's eyes widened, but otherwise, his expression was neutral. Gaeta's was not.
"Lieutenants," Saul managed to say.
Hoshi saluted, still holding the door open with his hip. Gaeta didn’t, although it was impossible to tell if that was insolence or the fact he needed both hands on his canes. "Colonel."
Well, Saul couldn't fault that. But Gaeta's eyes were boring into him, and Saul was uncomfortably reminded of another time they'd met inside the CIC. Do you know where my eye is? Gaeta had been innocent then. Saul found his gaze wandering down to Gaeta's missing leg. The silence stretched between them, and there was no doubt in Saul's mind that it was hostile, at least from Gaeta's side.
Hoshi cleared his throat. "Shift's about to start," he said. "Are you coming, Colonel?"
Saul realized he was staring at Gaeta's missing leg and snapped his gaze back up to his face. Gaeta was glaring at him, and there was no mistake to it. And if Gaeta couldn't cover his hostility, the rest of the CIC would only be worse.
"Not my shift," Saul said, clearing his throat and backing away. "You go ahead."
Gaeta smirked, and then did his best to brush by Saul as he struggled into the CIC. Saul might have been able to believe his sour expression was from pain, but the look he gave Hoshi was affectionate and grateful and stood out in sharp contrast. Not pain then.
"You sure, Colonel?" Hoshi said, still holding the door.
"I'm sure." The CIC door closed. He couldn't go in there right now, not with things standing the way they were.
He should dress Gaeta down for the disrespect and the hate and the look on his face, but right now, all Saul could think was how Gaeta had had the guts to enter that CIC after New Caprica. Some men were braver than others, weren't they?
Saul took a breath and put a hand on the door.
BSGlee: Kurt gets his job with Zarek
If he could have, he would have spent hours getting dressed that morning. As it was, Kurt still spent too much time staring at his open suitcase, debating which outfit would make more of an impression. The kilt was daring and coordinated well with the gray top, but the pants were probably more what a Sagittaron was expecting.
Screw it. That was the point. He was who he was, and that was what he was counting on. From everything Blaine had ever told him, Tom Zarek wouldn't respect someone who tried to conform to what people wanted. That was exactly why Kurt was trying this crazy scheme anyway. He scooped up the kilt and the gray top and snuck out of the compartment where the rest of New Directions was still sleeping, trying not to wake anyone.
He spent time on his hair, making sure that it looked perfect. He checked his skin and dabbed a little concealer on a zit that was developing on his temple. He made sure his shoes were perfectly polished, fastened on a watch, and pinned a brooch to one of the straps that crossed across his chest. He took one last look in the spotted bathroom mirror, pulled in a deep breath, and nodded. He was ready.
"Where are you going?" the shuttle pilot asked when Kurt climbed on a little later.
"The Astral Queen."
The shuttle pilot looked him up and down. "Right."
The whole way over, Kurt stared out the window, clutching his notebook to him. The ships were in neat formation, and this was a view of them that he didn't get from a window on the Cybele.
The Astral Queen was one of the bigger ships, and as the shuttle docked, Kurt had to swallow back his nerves. He'd never really had a job interview before. "Just think of it as an audition," he reminded himself. "It's really the same thing."
"All right, kid," the shuttle pilot said as the door opened. "Astral Queen."
"Am I supposed to tip you?" Kurt asked.
The pilot looked at him like he was from outer space. "Are you kidding?"
"Guess not. Thank you, then." Kurt climbed off the shuttle into the dingy gray of the docking bay. "By the way, do you know-" but the shuttle door was closed and the shuttle was already taxiing to the airlock. Kurt watched until the airlock closed, and then turned back.
"All right," he said. "This can't be hard." There was a guard standing by the door. "Excuse me," Kurt said, flouncing over and radiating as much confidence as he could. "I'm looking for Mr. Tom Zarek."
The guard gave Kurt the same skeptical look the shuttle pilot had. "Right. Go down cell block D, up the stairs at the end, and the second door on the right. That's Zarek's office."
"Thanks," Kurt chirped. He could do this. Tom Zarek was an intelligent man and he would welcome an organized, punctual, self-motivated assistant, Kurt was sure of it. In fact, he'd seen the man once on TV and he had several suggestions already, starting with the cut of his suit and changing the color of his tie, because really, green was not Zarek's color. He found the door marked "Cell Block D" and opened it. A long, straight corridor was there in front of him.
He made it two cells down before the first wolf whistle was let out. Three cells down before someone called him "baby." Five cells down before the first suggestion of sex, and in much cruder terms than he'd ever heard before.
It was quickly dawning on Kurt that he really, really hadn't thought this through.
Kurt was convinced that stereotypes were bad things, because if you listened to the world, he was a walking stereotype, and he knew just how much more than that he was. He was a living, breathing person, thank you very much, and so was every other stereotyped person. However, stereotypes began in some bit of truth, and Kurt was being reminded of that right now, especially as one bearded man leered at him and made a suggestion so obscene that Kurt scurried away and blushed. The convicts watching all burst into laughter.
He could turn around, and for a moment, Kurt considered it, especially when he realized that those cells? They weren't locked. Just how safe was he, anyway? Any one of these guys could lunge out and grab him and pull him into a cell and - oh gods, he was insane. And yet, his feet kept moving forward, one step at a time. Because no one did pull him into a cell. They laughed, they leered, they made their comments, but no one laid a hand on him. Kurt kept his eyes forward and kept walking. The stairs at the end seemed so far away, but he finally made it. "Rising above it all" had never felt so literal as he climbed them. Second door on the right. Kurt took a moment in the hall to take a deep breath and calm his shaking stomach, and then knocked.
"Come in." The answer was immediate. Kurt pushed open the door.
Tom Zarek was sitting at a small desk, wearing a t-shirt and jeans- much more casual than Kurt had expected. He looked up from his writing. "Yes?"
"Mr. Zarek?" Kurt stood as straight as he could. "My name is Kurt Hummel. I've come over from the Cybele to work as your assistant."
Zarek frowned. "I wasn't aware I was hiring an assistant."
"I don't think you can afford not to," Kurt said. "Right now, the work load of a representative to the Quorum of Twelve might not be as heavy, but it will rapidly pick up. Especially for a representative that has his eye on the Presidency come those promised elections. You need someone who is organized, punctual, and presents a professional face to the world. I would be able to keep your appointments, to keep track of your commitments, to help coordinate your staff, and to help deal with the people who are looking to speak to you."
Zarek's eyebrows went up a little. "And why you? I'm sure you haven't missed the fact that there are a thousand men on this ship who don't have jobs."
"True. But how many of them want to be what is essentially a subservient position? How many of them aren't bitter with the world and eager to present a good face to the rest of the Fleet immediately?"
"I could find a few." Zarek was challenging him; Kurt could see it in his eyes. He wanted the real story.
"I offered to be Sarah Porter's aide first," Kurt admitted. "I'm Gemenese, after all. It makes sense. She turned me down- without an interview."
"Without an interview."
"Just by looking at me." Kurt raised his chin. "I'm sure that's a bit of knowledge that you can make use of."
"It is."
"It would be an interesting angle, don't you think?" Kurt continued. "Sagittaron and Gemenon are traditionally at odds, but the idea of forming an alliance shows that you, as a representative of Sagittaron, are willing to work with the rest of the Fleet."
Now Zarek looked amused. "I think I could convey that without hiring an assistant," he said. "However… you do bring up good points about me needing someone. And I have to admit, you're probably head and shoulders above a lot of these people when it comes to current events. Sagittaron educational systems… leave something to be desired."
"Mmm." Kurt decided to be diplomatic and say nothing.
"And you've got guts, waltzing in here," Zarek said. "All right. We'll give it a try for a week. You can start today, actually." He handed Kurt a stack of notes and pointed to an ancient typewriter in the corner. "I need them typed into a speech. I want it done by five, and then you'll return to the Cybele for the night."
"Yes, sir," Kurt said. The stack was thick- he was going to have to work extremely quickly. "Thank you."
"Thank me if it works out," Zarek said. "We'll see."
"Yes, sir." Kurt immediately sat down and got to work.
He left at five, his work completed and his neck and eyes sore. Zarek had just given him a grim nod and a brief reminder to be there at eight the next morning. It was a start, and a good one. He walked down the corridor between the cells, ignoring the catcalls a little easier. Halfway down, some little voice told him to turn around. He did, and looked up. Tom Zarek was watching him from a second-floor observation window. He'd likely seen Kurt coming, too.
Kurt raised his hand in a sassy farewell. He'd bet any money that the fact he'd kept going this morning was the reason he'd gotten his job.
Gaius and Caprica Six and Colonial Halloween (Yes, the Colonials had Halloween. Just go with it :) )
"It's a peculiar custom," she said, watching the children scamper away. "Is it Caprican?"
Gaius looked at her oddly. "Not just Caprican," he said. "You've never heard of Halloween?"
"Of course. But we never celebrated it."
"Then truly, you must have had a deprived childhood. Even in the rural wasteland of Aerelon, we were encouraged to dress up as little cretins and demand candy from our neighbors. A boorish custom, yes, but a childhood rite, and really, one I remember with some fondness."
"Mmm. And what did you dress up as, Gaius?" she purred.
Gaius's eyes unfocused as he chuckled with the memory. "A cat, one year. A hobo another."
"No mad scientist?"
He snorted. "Of course not. The idea of Halloween is to pretend to be something that you're not."
"Ah, so you admit to being completely mad."
"Mmm. I might be. I'm quite infatuated with you, after all, and I let you into the mainframe despite my better judgment and security clearances." He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, kissing her. Things were about to get interesting when the doorbell rang again, and to her surprise, Gaius actually pulled away.
"You can't just leave it?"
"Not if I don't want egg all over my house." He opened the door. "Well, well, what have we here! A Colonial officer, a snow leopard, and oh my! Look at the scary Cylon!"
That made her eyebrows go up, and she peered over Gaius's shoulder. There was a child in shiny tin foil covered boxes, dressed as what was supposed to be a Centurion. The mockery made her blood boil, and she desperately wanted to grab that bowl of candy from Gaius's hands and throw it at the child's head. How dare they turn the Cylons into a matter of jest? But then, Cylons had never been taken seriously on the Colonies- that was the point.
"Are you all right?"
She snapped back to the present, noticing that Gaius had closed the door and the children were gone. "Fine," she said, hiding her true feelings behind the mask of a smile. "But I don't think I will ever understand Halloween."
Tom Zarek and the Order of the Phoneix
Tom Zarek in politics was a dangerous thing. Tom Zarek with a wand, however, was beyond terrifying.
"Mr. Zarek," Snape hissed as they sat in the Order meeting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, "you have no idea how long this war has been fought. Your rash actions could cost the Order everything that we have worked for."
"I disagree," Sirius spoke up. "Zarek's got the right idea. Taking the fight to the Death Eaters-"
"We've been doing that as much as we can," Dumbledore said mildly. "But Severus is right that there is a need for caution."
"And not just blowing things up," Snape muttered. Dumbledore flicked a glance at him and he fell silent.
The meeting came to a conclusion, leaving Tom frustrated. He noticed that Sirius felt the same way, not that he could blame him.
"It's being trapped," Sirius complained later, when Tom joined him in the library. "Trapped and unable to do anything. That's my godson that they're protecting. That's my war that they're fighting!"
"I know exactly what you mean," Tom said fervently. "After months of being trapped in tin boxes while others did the fighting, I thought it would feel good to be back in the action. And it does."
"When there's action to be had," Sirius finished for him, pacing restlessly.
"We could take matters into our own hands," Tom suggested. "There are… other methods. Methods that Dumbledore has not considered."
Sirius scowled. "He's considered them, but he thinks the cost will be too high."
"There is always a price to be paid for change."
"Yes, but it's up to us to decide the price. We can give our lives because we made that choice. Muggles don't, because they don't even know there's a choice to be made. I've been the casualty. I won't make anyone else one."
"All right," Tom said, more because he knew when to back off than because he agreed. "But if you ever change your mind, let me know. Because I think, between you and me, we could set the Death Eaters back on their heels."
"And I have no doubt that we will, when the time is right." Sirius's grin was almost wolfish, but it faded fast. "But it's not right now. We have to wait."
"Waiting is something I'm good at," Tom said, thinking of twenty years of prison.
"Yeah," Sirius sighed, in perfect understanding. "So am I."
When Dee Met Starbuck
She was going to miss it. Dee ran through the space port, lugging her heavy bag. To her relief, the Raptor was still there. "Is this the Raptor heading up to the Galactica?" Dee asked the pilot that was leaning against it. The pilot had short blonde hair and was wearing sunglasses.
"It had better be," she said, "or I'm hijacking it and heading there." Dee decided to take that as a 'yes' and put her bag down on the ground. The pilot eyed her up and down. "So what did you do?"
"Excuse me?"
"You got assigned to the Galactica, which is almost like getting kicked out of the Fleet. What did you do?"
"Nothing," Dee said stiffly. "I just graduated basic."
The pilot took off her glasses, and Dee saw her check her rank insignia. "You did well, too," she said, taking in the Petty Officer's bars. "But there's got to be something. What base are you coming off of?"
"Ephilison."
"Really? Your accent isn't Gemenese."
"I'm not Gemenese," Dee said stiffly. "I'm Sagittaron."
The pilot threw back her head and laughed. "There you go," she said when she could speak again. "That's what you did. You dared to join the military." Dee's cheeks burned, but she'd learned the best course was to stay silent. "Don't worry," she said, slapping Dee on the shoulder. "It could be worse."
"Could it," Dee said dryly.
"Sure. The rest of the Fleet might not have you, but the Old Man will." The pilot finally extended her hand. "I'm Kara, by the way. Kara Thrace, but everyone calls me Starbuck."
"Anastasia Dualla, but everyone calls me Dee."
"Well, Dee, let's go," Kara said, pushing Dee towards the Raptor, not a little roughly.
"But- the pilot-"
"Frak the pilot. I'll fly us up." Kara pushed Dee into the Raptor and tossed their bags in after. "If the pilot wanted to fly us, he should have been on time." Kara slid into the pilots' seat. "Can you fly?"
"No."
"Well, I'll walk you through it. Come on." Kara grinned. "This will be fun."
"Wait, we should-" but the rest of Dee's protest was drowned out as the Raptor doors closed and the engines roared into life. Kara laughed, and the craft came alive under her hands. It lurched into air, and then took off.
They were really doing this. Frak, they were really doing this.
They broke atmo, and Dee's palms began to sweat. Up there in the ship yards was the Galactica, and onboard was a commanding officer who would be furious when he heard that a pilot had been left behind on the planet. It only took a few moments, and there it was, looming in front of them. Dee's breath caught in her throat.
"What's the matter?" Kara asked.
"Nothing," Dee said. "I've just never actually seen a battlestar before."
"Yeah, well, the thrill wears off," Kara said with a shrug. "Call us in, will you?"
Dee picked up the receiver. "Galactica, this is Raptor-" she checked the number- "718, requesting clearance for landing."
"Raptor 718? You must have had one hell of a time on world, Grateside."
"What makes you say that?"
"When you left, you were male," the voice said. "Who the hell is this?"
Kara snatched the receiver from Dee's hand. "Grateside's incapacitated. Just let us land and we'll explain it to the Old Man, all right?"
"You'd better."
The Raptor flew into the docking bay, and Dee tried not to gape. Not to gape and not to tremble, because when they made their way into the actual landing bay, the brass was coming down the stairs to greet them. She'd never met Commander Adama, but the way the crew straightened up as he passed made his identity clear.
"What the hell?" the bald officer at his side barked when the two women disembarked. "There had better be one frakking good explanation for this!"
"There is, sir," Kara said, addressing her words to the Commander rather than the officer who had spoken. "Grateside wasn't even at his Raptor when it was time to depart. Can't have such a lack in discipline, sir."
"So you took it on yourself to pilot up?" the bald officer demanded.
"It's called 'initiative', sir. The Colonial Fleet values it, or so I'm told."
A smile cracked Commander Adama's face. "Grateside was on his last warning anyway," he told the officer, and then saluted. "Lieutenant Thrace. Welcome aboard."
"Thank you, sir."
Adama's eyes turned to Dee. "Petty Officer Dualla," he said, and Dee was impressed he remembered her name. "I've heard good things about you. I look forward to working with you in the CIC."
The CIC? Dee's heart lurched upwards. Kara was right about Adama, it seemed. For the first time since she'd been assigned to the Galactica, Dee had hope that it was really going to go well, and really be her doorway into a different world and a different life than what she'd known. "Thank you, sir," she managed. She still couldn't believe they weren't in trouble. In fact, Adama seemed flat-out amused.
"Colonel Tigh," Adama said, putting a hand on Kara's shoulder. "Take Petty Officer Dualla to the CIC. I'll get Lieutenant Thrace settled in."
"Yes, sir," Tigh said. He watched Adama and Thrace disappear together, and then turned back to Dee. When he looked at her, Dee knew she wasn't in trouble with the Commander, but she was definitely in trouble with the XO. "Let's go," Tigh said sharply. "You're not going to get away with a stunt like that, believe me. You've already got two KP duties for that one."
Dee picked up her bag with an inward sigh. For some reason, she had the feeling that this wasn't the first mess of Kara Thrace's, nor would it be the last.
BSGlee: Finn and Helo
It had been an exciting few days, with Starbuck returning and Kobol and the map to Earth and everything. Finn kind of wondered why, if they had a map to Earth, it was going to take so long getting there, but no one else was really asking that so he kept his mouth shut. Besides, right now, the mood in the ready room wasn't one where you asked questions. It was positively cold, and the reason for that was sitting in the front row, next to Starbuck.
His name was Helo. Finn had heard a lot about Helo, because everyone thought he was dead, and apparently, Helo had been the kind of guy everyone would mourn. But now that he was back- and with a Cylon in tow- no one wanted the first thing to do with him. Which Finn totally got because, hey, genocide, but still. It did kind of suck for Helo.
Not enough that Finn went down at sat with him, of course.
He hadn't really thought about it, or what he wanted to do about it, until he was sitting alone in the mess hall. Mercedes was on the night shift and Santana was still flying drills and Puck was off getting his ass kicked by the Marines or something, and Finn knew that he'd better eat when he was given a chance, so he was eating alone. That was when Helo came over to him balancing a tray, trying not to look frantic. "Hey," he said. "Mind if I sit here? It's the only table open in the mess."
The only table, but not the only seat. But Finn could see the way the other pilots sat, their backs turned very deliberately to Helo. What else could he do? "Yeah, sure," Finn said.
"Thanks." Helo looked relieved. "I'm Helo, by the way."
"Yeah, I know," Finn said. There was an expectant pause, and then Finn realized what Helo was waiting for. "Oh, right. Finn Hudson. 'Twinkletoes.'"
"Nice to meet you," Helo said, and an awkward silence descended for a few long moments.
"Look," Helo said, after he'd eaten a few bites, "I don't mean to make things awkward for you."
"You're not," Finn lied. Helo gave him a 'you're full of it' sort of look, and Finn sighed. "Okay, yeah, so I'm kind of glad there's no Slushie machine on the Galactica right now, but I'm sure there's something like it."
"Slushie machine?"
"Yeah. Back at my old school, when people didn't like you, they threw Slushies in your face."
"The frozen drinks?" Helo asked incredulously. "Did that happen to you a lot?"
Finn nodded. "Sure. No one likes the glee club," he explained. "And I used to play Pyramid so…"
"What position?" Helo asked eagerly.
"Point guard."
"Me, too."
Oh, shit. Finn had a bad feeling he was going to like this guy. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Helo frowned. "We didn't have a glee club though. It was the marching band that got picked on in our school."
"What did you play?"
Helo flushed. "I didn't. I was one of the guys that shoved them into their lockers."
Finn cringed. "Before I joined glee, I was one of the guys who threw the Slushies," he admitted. "In fact, I used to toss the guy who's now my step-brother into the dumpster."
"Ouch." Helo winced sympathetically. "Good thing we grew up a bit, huh?"
"Yeah," Finn agreed. He poked his food with his fork.
"You're thinking about something," Helo prompted when Finn didn't say anything.
"Can I ask you something?" Finn said.
Helo spread his hands. "Ask me anything."
"The Cylon-"
"Sharon."
"Yeah. Is she really pregnant?"
"Yeah."
"Oh. Man." Finn frowned. "That's got to be kind of hard."
Helo snorted. "It's complicated."
"I know about complicated. I mean, I never knocked up a Cylon," Finn rushed to explain, "but my girlfriend, she sort of convinced me that I was the father of her baby when I wasn't."
"I'm definitely the father," Helo insisted, jutting his chin out.
"Didn't say you weren't. Just… you know, I don't know what I was trying to say," Finn admitted. "It was kind of stupid to bring it up." He stabbed his food viciously.
"How'd it end?"
"Huh?"
"Your girlfriend. How did it all end?"
"Oh, I found out before the baby was born. She had the baby and gave her up for adoption, and we even got back together for a bit. And Puck and I are friends again."
"So it all worked out in the end," Helo said.
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess it did," Finn realized, and smiled. "Maybe that's what I was trying to tell you? I don't know. I know it's nothing like this, but I guess at the time I thought it was all going to hell and it worked out. Maybe the same thing will happen for you?"
"Maybe it will," Helo agreed, although he didn't smile. "But thanks."
"For what?" Finn asked.
"You're the only one who's said anything like that to me since I got here."
"Oh." That sounded really, really lonely now that Finn thought about it. "Hey, listen," he began tentatively. "Me and a couple of friends, we're playing Triad tonight. If you want to play…."
"I can't," Helo said. "I've got duty. But another night, definitely."
"All right." Finn finished his food. "I hate to run, but I'm gonna get killed if I'm not back in time."
"You are," Helo agreed. "I'll see you around, Finn."
"Yeah. Take care." Finn waved as he headed out of the mess. He didn't turn back around, but if he had, he would have seen Helo smiling.
Gaeta and Dee, celestial navigation for dummies
"I don't know," Felix said, pushing the papers away from him in disgust. "How the hell am I supposed to figure this out? Why, if the Thirteenth tribe exists, didn't they just leave a nice, easy set of coordinates?"
"Got me," Dee said, pouring over the Scriptures. "It's like those old playwrights we had to study in school. All that symbolism. If the crown was supposed to represent the burdens of the king and the wisdom he acquired, why didn't the writer just say that?"
"I don’t know," Felix said. "I always just made it up."
"Yeah. Me, too."
They looked at each other.
"No," Felix said. "They'll figure it out."
"How?" Dee asked. "This isn't a guessing game for them. If they knew where they wanted us to go, they'd tell us. They can't even yell at us for getting it wrong."
"Yes they can," Felix predicted gloomily.
"Well, then, they can figure this out."
"All right," Felix began. "Let's say we did make it up. How would we do it?"
"I don't know," Dee began thoughtfully. "I can mark some likely passages of Scripture that we can interpret creatively. And if you want…"
"What?" Felix pushed when she didn't answer.
"I'll put in a word with Abrahamson and we'll take the Galactica for a 360. You can recruit Lindstrom and we can scan for likely 'signposts'."
"You're insane."
"If the Gods exist, they'll guide our journey," Dee sing-songed.
"So you basically want to use the Galactica and the galaxy as one giant Ouija board," Felix said.
Dee nodded.
"Well, what else have we got to lose?" Felix asked. "Let's do it."
It took a few spin-and-jumps, but eventually, that was the exact way that they found the Lion's Head Nebula.
Bill and Saul, post-election
"Bill, there's something I've gotta tell you."
"No you don't." Bill poured them each a glass of whiskey. "You don't want to tell me."
"You already know," Saul grunted.
"That you tried to help Roslin steal the election? Yes."
"I don't regret it," Saul said.
"You would have, if you’d gone through with it. It would have eaten at your soul."
Saul snorted. "No it wouldn't have. And even if it had, it would have been a small price to pay to keep Baltar from being President and settling us on that mudball he's got his heart set on."
Bill's glance was direct and piercing. "What you call a small price would have still been too high."
Leoben and a Three, New Caprica
"I don't understand what you're looking for," the Three said, her arms crossed as she looked at the haven that Leoben had built. "She's a human. She doesn't hold the answers to enlightenment."
"You need to expand your definitions," Leoben said, running his hand over the smooth wood of the banister. "Enlightenment- and God- can be found in places you might never expect. The swirling of a stream, the underside of a rock-" the Three snorted at that- "or yes, a human."
"I think I'll go turn over a few rocks," the Three said. "It seems like a more likely hiding place for the presence of God."
"You do that," Leoben said, completely unaffected. "But my pilgrimage will be in here."
Laura, Tory, and head!Billy, post Captain's Hand
"Madame President, are you all right?" Tory asked.
Laura looked away from the window and pulled in a deep breath. "Yes," she lied. "I'm fine."
Over Tory's shoulder, Billy crossed his arms. "No you're not."
"Excuse me?" Laura asked, blinking, because Billy was dead.
"I didn't say anything," Tory said.
"You're not all right," Billy continued. "How can you do this? It goes against everything you believe in!"
"I know," Laura said, rubbing her forehead.
"All right." Tory looked confused. "Is there anything else, Madame President?"
"Any other rights you'd like to take away?" Billy asked caustically.
"No. That's all."
"Very good."
Laura waited until Tory left, and then closed her eyes. When she opened them, Billy was still standing there, although the look on his face softened. "It wasn't about political gain," she told him. "It's about saving the human race."
"There are other ways to do it," Billy said. "Incentives for adoption, education…."
"It's not that simple," Laura said. "Nothing is ever that simple. If it was, you would still be here."
His hand on hers actually felt warm. "You're right," he said, but he didn't clarify. Laura closed her eyes again, and this time, when she opened them, he was gone.
Finn and Kurt, Halloween
"So what are you going to be for Halloween?" Finn asked, plopping down beside Kurt.
"Really? Are we trick-or-treating?" Kurt asked, flipping the channel on the TV.
"No. Brittany's party."
"Oh. That's right. With everything else going on, I sort of forgot."
A thought occurred to Finn. "You are invited, right? Even though you guys are running against each other?"
"I am. Brittany isn't much for grudges," Kurt admitted. "But I am ashamed to say I have no ideas for a costume. What are you going as?"
"A ghost," Finn said promptly.
"A ghost. Like, a cut holes in the sheet and drape it over your head ghost?"
"Yup."
Kurt stared at him. "You're how old again?"
"Haha. Just because it's not some complicated get-up like you'd wear doesn't mean it isn't a cool costume."
"You do realize," Kurt said, with a look on his face that meant he was going for the kill, "that you can't eat in that costume."
"Oh." Oh. "I didn't think of that."
"I assumed."
Finn said back, frowning. "Great. Now what do I do?"
"Ask Rachel. I'm sure she's got some brilliant and nauseating couple costume for you two to be."
"Yeah, but I really don't want to be the Scarecrow while she's Dorothy. She suggested that you be the Tin Man, by the way."
"And Blaine is the Lion?"
"Toto."
Kurt tried to glare, but he couldn't resist a snicker. "Right."
"So what are you two going to be?"
"We're not dressing up together. It's too…"
"Cliché?"
"Limiting. Blaine wants to be a football player."
"A football player."
"Exactly. The lack of imagination is just astounding."
"Not to mention he is kind of short." Finn considered it. "We could always dress up together."
"As what?"
"The Muppet scientist and Beaker?"
"No."
"Scooby-Doo and Shaggy?"
"NO."
"Han Solo and Chewbacca?"
"N- well… maybe."
"You could bedazzle a gun," Finn said temptingly. "And wear really fabulous boots. I'd even let you do the straps for Chewie. Come on. How often do you get to dress your stepbrother in jeweled bondage gear?"
That did it, and Kurt grinned. "I am definitely in."
Laura and Tory, girl talk
"Come on, Laura," Tory urged. "You need a break."
"All right." Laura took a deep breath and followed Tory into the bar tent. The canvas alone would have cut down on the cold from the New Caprica winds, but the number of people pressed inside helped as well. "We're never going to get a table!" Laura shouted to Tory.
"You leave that to me," Tory said. Ten minutes later, they were seated. Laura wasn't sure if someone was buried under the ground beneath them, but decided not to ask.
"Why is it so crowded?" Laura asked when Tory returned with drinks. "Aside from people needing to drink away their misery, that is?"
"Isn't that reason enough?" Tory asked with a shrug. Laura laughed bitterly. "So tell me," Tory said, sipping her drink, "now that we're alone, what is going on with you and the Vice President?"
Laura blinked. "The Vice President? That's a new one. Usually it's Maya bugging me about the Admiral."
"I know I'm not going to get anything out of you there," Tory sighed, and Laura had to admit she was right, because she'd tried. "So, time to squeeze blood from a new stone. I've seen the way Zarek looks at you."
Laura shuddered. "Ugh."
"Really?" Tory arched an eyebrow. "He might be a terrorist, but he is kind of cute."
"Gaius Baltar is also a handsome man," Laura admitted. "I'm not frakking him anytime soon, either."
"Gee, why not?" Tory said, and both of them dissolved into giggles. "I wonder if he's as short elsewhere as he is height-wise."
"Probably. He practically screams 'compensation'." Laura found a vicious pleasure in that thought. "Gaius Baltar. Big mind, big ego, small dick."
"New campaign slogan," Tory agreed, and they clinked their glasses together.
Gaeta, Zarek, and Adama, AU mutiny ending
Adama led them down to the deck, surrounded by armed, loyal marines. Felix was having a hard time, dragging himself along on the crutches without any prosthetic. He was exhausted, and his arms were trembling. Adama didn't look back, but he did slow his pace. But when he faltered, it was Tom who caught his arm and steadied him.
"Thanks," Felix muttered, but was too empty to feel much gratitude. At the end of this walk there would be a chair and a firing squad and then it would all be over. He was ready for that. He was also wrong.
They stopped in the landing bay, where several Raptors were waiting. "What's going on?" Tom asked, looking at the Raptors.
Adama turned to face them. "You don't like the way things are being run? Fine. You do better. You've got the Prometheus. It's all yours. You go your way, and we'll go ours."
"Wait seriously?" Tom asked, his fingers tightening around Felix's arm. "You're letting us go?"
"We're letting you go."
"With no defenses, no tylium refining, no sewage refining, no algae supplies…" Felix said tiredly. "It's a slow death rather than a fast one." He saw the truth of that in Adama's eyes.
But Zarek shook his head. "Only if we don't find a habitable planet first. And we will. Come on, Felix. We finally have a dawn of new hope." He headed for the Raptor, head held high.
Felix couldn't follow, not yet. He stood for a long moment, watching Adama. Adama stared back, steely, giving away nothing.
"I don't know whether I should be thanking you or cursing you."
"Ishay's coming with you. You'll have medical care. I suspect some ships will follow you as well." Adama was angry. "We're giving people time to make their choice. Those that come with you are your responsibility now. See how well you wear it. How easy it is."
Felix closed his eyes. "I never said it was easy," he said quietly. "I know it wasn't. That wasn't the point."
"Then what was the point, Mr. Gaeta?"
Felix sighed. "If you haven't understood it by now, you never will. Good bye, Admiral."
"Goodbye, Mr. Gaeta." Neither of them wished the other luck.
Gaeta and Dee, geeking out
"What do you mean, you've never seen Galaxy Battles?" Dee asked, once she was able to shut her mouth. "You're a geek! You're geekier than any guy I know, and I mean that as a compliment!"
"I know. Thank you," Felix said. He shrugged, tapping his cards on the table. "I just never saw it. It's my dark and shameful secret from my past. You should feel flattered that I even told you."
"Don't get me wrong, I am," Dee said. "But how did you manage that?"
Felix shrugged again, affecting indifference. "My family didn't have a lot of money when I was growing up," he said.
"I know that."
"Yeah, well, when Galaxy Battles came out, it was a really tight time for us, so I couldn't afford to go. I did get a copy of the novelization out of the library, though, and read that so I could pretend I'd seen it. Don't look at me like that!" he said when Dee's expression melted. "It's not that big a deal!"
"Not that big a deal? Felix, it's Galaxy Battles. It's a cornerstone of culture, a foundation for our generation."
"You sound like Tom Zarek. OUCH!" He rubbed his shin. "That hurt! You're wearing steel-toed boots, you know."
"You deserved it," Dee said primly. "Besides, now we're even, and we can go use your rank to commandeer a television and host a Galaxy Battles marathon. Because I'm serious, Felix, you can't die without seeing this movie."
Recognizing a lost cause when saw it, Felix saluted. "Yes, sir."
Gaeta/Narcho, AU Demetrius
"Frak this shit!" Noel yelled, punching the wall. "You are not going!"
"Want to tell the Admiral that, Noel?" Felix asked dryly, shoving things into his bag. "Because it's not my idea to go traipsing around on a sewage ship chasing Starbuck's visions."
"So why go? For gods' sake, stand up for yourself, Felix! Tell him no!"
"Stand up for myself? This is the military, Noel, not a playground bully! I do what I'm ordered to do and go where I'm ordered to go, and you know that as well as anybody. Better, even, given that you were on the Pegasus."
"I still don’t like it!"
"Neither do I!"
"Then why are you going?" Noel yelled. "Do you really think that Starbuck is having visions? That she knows the way to some mythical planet called Earth and can lead us there by her feelings?"
"No! Of course not!"
"Then why go?"
"Because I have to!" Felix roared. "I have to, and I have no choice! All I can do is follow along and try to not to kill Kara and everyone else on this godsdamned fools' mission, and hope like hell that by some freak chance we stumble across something that makes the slightest bit of sense! Luck's all we've got anymore! Pure, stinking, blind luck! And if you think I want to leave you and the Galactica and go on a sewage ship with Kara Thrace chasing nothing, then you don't know me very well at all!"
Felix wasn't surprised when Noel grabbed him, pulling him close roughly and kissing him as hard as he could. He kissed back, just as fierce, all too aware that this might be the last time.
Two hours later, after they'd finished and he'd collected himself, gotten one last decent shower, and finished packing, Felix made his way down to the landing bay. He had no idea where Noel had gotten to, but he couldn't blame him. Noel wasn't supposed to know about this mission in the first place. Which was why he was surprised when he saw Helo shaking Noel's hand in front of a Raptor.
"I really do owe you for this, man," Helo was saying gratefully. "I know I should go but-"
"No. Hera needs at least one parent here," Noel said, clasping Helo on the arm. "It makes sense to send Sharon in case we run into any Cylons, but you need to be here with your daughter."
"And you really believe her?" Helo asked. "You really believe Kara?"
"No. But damned if I have any other ideas, and I've got my own reasons for going on this mission," Noel said. He flicked a glance at Felix, who dropped his bag. Helo followed the glance and nodded.
"Right. I get it. Well, good luck. Both of you."
"You, too," Noel said. He turned away from Helo and smiled fully at Felix. "Are you coming, Lieutenant Gaeta."
"Noel? What the-"
"I volunteered," Noel said. "If you're going on this frakking mission, I'm coming with you. I'm not just letting you walk off without doing something about it." His scowl was dark and deep as he said it, but to Felix, it was the most beautiful expression in the world.
"Thank you," he said, stopping by Noel and squeezing his hand. "You have no idea… Thank you."
Noel smiled. "Only for you, Felix. That's the only reason I'd ever do this, to make sure you're safe."
"I know. Thank you." Felix's heart was so much lighter as he boarded the Raptor for the Demetrius. And he had no idea of how much his world had just changed for the better.
Gaeta and Hoshi teach at Dalton
Felix was settled in one of the plush leather armchairs outside of the study room where the Warblers held their rehearsals. Louis wasn't surprised- it was one of Felix's favorite places. The cane he still used was resting against the wall.
"Is there a reason they're singing a break-up song?" Felix asked as Louis approached.
"Huh?"
"A break-up song. Listen."
"It's pretty," Louis said, after he'd listened to the song through the door for a bit. "What's it called?"
"'Candles'. And the countertenor is sharp," Felix sighed. "I wish I could go in there and tell them that."
"Why don't you?"
Felix's gaze was level. "You know Dalton's policy as well as I do. If student organizations don't want a faculty advisor, they don't have to have one."
"But you could still tell him he's sharp." Louis sat down in the chair next to Felix. "You would love to be their advisor, wouldn't you?"
"I would," Felix admitted. "But the Council has made their wishes very clear. So I'll have to settle for being their math teacher." He brightened. "Which has its perks over being a Fleet navigator."
"Oh, come on. Adama and Tigh were easier to deal with than a room of boys that don't want to learn Calculus. Or physics, as the case may be," Louis groaned.
Felix looked sympathetic. "Bad day?"
"Not really. No, really. I just sometimes forget this is Earth, not the Colonies, and you and I…."
Felix touched his hand. "That people would respond better to the fact that we're from outer space than they do that we're together?"
"Yeah."
"Who was it?"
"Just Johnson again. And nothing I could report, either," Louis said as Felix opened his mouth. "He's good at the insinuations."
"I'm sorry," Felix said, taking a quick moment to squeeze Louis's hand. The clattering from inside the rehearsal room made them pull apart, and the doors flew open to allow the boys to pour out. A few of them shouted hellos to the two teachers watching, but for the most part, they were intent on their own conversations. Louis noticed Felix was smiling a little as he watched them all go.
"You ready?" Louis asked him. "We should probably go if we’re going to beat rush hour."
"Yeah, wait. Just a minute." Felix reached over for his cane, but it fell and rolled. "Frak," he swore quietly.
"I'll get it for you, Mr. Gaeta."
Louis startled. He hadn't noticed that two of the Warblers were still left behind- Blaine Anderson, who was in his seventh period class, and Kurt Hummel, who was in Chemistry this year.
"Oh. Thank you, Blaine." Felix smiled at him. "But I can get it." He started to stand, and automatically, Louis reached out and helped him. Blaine was already chasing the cane, but the gesture and all its implied intimacy weren't lost on Kurt, whose eyes widened. Louis self-consciously dropped his hand, and Kurt's expression changed to something Louis didn't understand.
Blaine returned the cane to Felix. "Here you go, Mr. Gaeta," he said, laying it across his two open palms.
"I feel like you should kneel and I should knight you," Felix laughed. "Thank you, Mr. Anderson."
"You're welcome. Were you listening to us singing?"
"Er-"
"We were. You sounded great," Louis said.
"Thanks." Blaine was all confidence. Kurt's expression was harder to read. "Well, we'd better go. See you around, Mr. Hoshi. Mr. Gaeta."
"Have a good weekend, boys. Good luck in your competition," Felix shouted after them.
As they walked away, Blaine reached out and took Kurt's hand. Kurt looked back, just a quick glance, and then threaded his fingers through Blaine's. "Oh," Louis said, a little amused.
Felix snorted. "It's about time. That's why I asked why they were singing a break-up song."
"I see. Why didn't you tell him he was sharp?" Louis asked.
"I couldn't. He'll figure it out."
"Such a hard-ass of a teacher," Louis sighed. He reached for Felix's hand. "Come on. We'd better get home."
Felix had his cane, but he leaned harder on Louis. "I agree," he said. "Let's go home."
Tigh, Gaeta, and Hoshi during Revelations
So now everyone knew. Everyone on the whole damn ship knew he was a Cylon, and he wasn't being put out the airlock for it. He still had no idea what Bill was going to say once he recovered from the shock. He could say anything, and Saul wouldn't blame him.
He should go into the CIC. Bill was in no shape to command, and as of right now, he was still the XO of this ship. He took a deep breath, opened his flask to take a drink, rethought it and put it away, and started for the CIC. And then stopped right at the door. Lieutenant Hoshi was holding the CIC door open, and Gaeta was awkwardly navigating his way through the door. They saw him and stopped still. Hoshi's eyes widened, but otherwise, his expression was neutral. Gaeta's was not.
"Lieutenants," Saul managed to say.
Hoshi saluted, still holding the door open with his hip. Gaeta didn’t, although it was impossible to tell if that was insolence or the fact he needed both hands on his canes. "Colonel."
Well, Saul couldn't fault that. But Gaeta's eyes were boring into him, and Saul was uncomfortably reminded of another time they'd met inside the CIC. Do you know where my eye is? Gaeta had been innocent then. Saul found his gaze wandering down to Gaeta's missing leg. The silence stretched between them, and there was no doubt in Saul's mind that it was hostile, at least from Gaeta's side.
Hoshi cleared his throat. "Shift's about to start," he said. "Are you coming, Colonel?"
Saul realized he was staring at Gaeta's missing leg and snapped his gaze back up to his face. Gaeta was glaring at him, and there was no mistake to it. And if Gaeta couldn't cover his hostility, the rest of the CIC would only be worse.
"Not my shift," Saul said, clearing his throat and backing away. "You go ahead."
Gaeta smirked, and then did his best to brush by Saul as he struggled into the CIC. Saul might have been able to believe his sour expression was from pain, but the look he gave Hoshi was affectionate and grateful and stood out in sharp contrast. Not pain then.
"You sure, Colonel?" Hoshi said, still holding the door.
"I'm sure." The CIC door closed. He couldn't go in there right now, not with things standing the way they were.
He should dress Gaeta down for the disrespect and the hate and the look on his face, but right now, all Saul could think was how Gaeta had had the guts to enter that CIC after New Caprica. Some men were braver than others, weren't they?
Saul took a breath and put a hand on the door.
BSGlee: Kurt gets his job with Zarek
If he could have, he would have spent hours getting dressed that morning. As it was, Kurt still spent too much time staring at his open suitcase, debating which outfit would make more of an impression. The kilt was daring and coordinated well with the gray top, but the pants were probably more what a Sagittaron was expecting.
Screw it. That was the point. He was who he was, and that was what he was counting on. From everything Blaine had ever told him, Tom Zarek wouldn't respect someone who tried to conform to what people wanted. That was exactly why Kurt was trying this crazy scheme anyway. He scooped up the kilt and the gray top and snuck out of the compartment where the rest of New Directions was still sleeping, trying not to wake anyone.
He spent time on his hair, making sure that it looked perfect. He checked his skin and dabbed a little concealer on a zit that was developing on his temple. He made sure his shoes were perfectly polished, fastened on a watch, and pinned a brooch to one of the straps that crossed across his chest. He took one last look in the spotted bathroom mirror, pulled in a deep breath, and nodded. He was ready.
"Where are you going?" the shuttle pilot asked when Kurt climbed on a little later.
"The Astral Queen."
The shuttle pilot looked him up and down. "Right."
The whole way over, Kurt stared out the window, clutching his notebook to him. The ships were in neat formation, and this was a view of them that he didn't get from a window on the Cybele.
The Astral Queen was one of the bigger ships, and as the shuttle docked, Kurt had to swallow back his nerves. He'd never really had a job interview before. "Just think of it as an audition," he reminded himself. "It's really the same thing."
"All right, kid," the shuttle pilot said as the door opened. "Astral Queen."
"Am I supposed to tip you?" Kurt asked.
The pilot looked at him like he was from outer space. "Are you kidding?"
"Guess not. Thank you, then." Kurt climbed off the shuttle into the dingy gray of the docking bay. "By the way, do you know-" but the shuttle door was closed and the shuttle was already taxiing to the airlock. Kurt watched until the airlock closed, and then turned back.
"All right," he said. "This can't be hard." There was a guard standing by the door. "Excuse me," Kurt said, flouncing over and radiating as much confidence as he could. "I'm looking for Mr. Tom Zarek."
The guard gave Kurt the same skeptical look the shuttle pilot had. "Right. Go down cell block D, up the stairs at the end, and the second door on the right. That's Zarek's office."
"Thanks," Kurt chirped. He could do this. Tom Zarek was an intelligent man and he would welcome an organized, punctual, self-motivated assistant, Kurt was sure of it. In fact, he'd seen the man once on TV and he had several suggestions already, starting with the cut of his suit and changing the color of his tie, because really, green was not Zarek's color. He found the door marked "Cell Block D" and opened it. A long, straight corridor was there in front of him.
He made it two cells down before the first wolf whistle was let out. Three cells down before someone called him "baby." Five cells down before the first suggestion of sex, and in much cruder terms than he'd ever heard before.
It was quickly dawning on Kurt that he really, really hadn't thought this through.
Kurt was convinced that stereotypes were bad things, because if you listened to the world, he was a walking stereotype, and he knew just how much more than that he was. He was a living, breathing person, thank you very much, and so was every other stereotyped person. However, stereotypes began in some bit of truth, and Kurt was being reminded of that right now, especially as one bearded man leered at him and made a suggestion so obscene that Kurt scurried away and blushed. The convicts watching all burst into laughter.
He could turn around, and for a moment, Kurt considered it, especially when he realized that those cells? They weren't locked. Just how safe was he, anyway? Any one of these guys could lunge out and grab him and pull him into a cell and - oh gods, he was insane. And yet, his feet kept moving forward, one step at a time. Because no one did pull him into a cell. They laughed, they leered, they made their comments, but no one laid a hand on him. Kurt kept his eyes forward and kept walking. The stairs at the end seemed so far away, but he finally made it. "Rising above it all" had never felt so literal as he climbed them. Second door on the right. Kurt took a moment in the hall to take a deep breath and calm his shaking stomach, and then knocked.
"Come in." The answer was immediate. Kurt pushed open the door.
Tom Zarek was sitting at a small desk, wearing a t-shirt and jeans- much more casual than Kurt had expected. He looked up from his writing. "Yes?"
"Mr. Zarek?" Kurt stood as straight as he could. "My name is Kurt Hummel. I've come over from the Cybele to work as your assistant."
Zarek frowned. "I wasn't aware I was hiring an assistant."
"I don't think you can afford not to," Kurt said. "Right now, the work load of a representative to the Quorum of Twelve might not be as heavy, but it will rapidly pick up. Especially for a representative that has his eye on the Presidency come those promised elections. You need someone who is organized, punctual, and presents a professional face to the world. I would be able to keep your appointments, to keep track of your commitments, to help coordinate your staff, and to help deal with the people who are looking to speak to you."
Zarek's eyebrows went up a little. "And why you? I'm sure you haven't missed the fact that there are a thousand men on this ship who don't have jobs."
"True. But how many of them want to be what is essentially a subservient position? How many of them aren't bitter with the world and eager to present a good face to the rest of the Fleet immediately?"
"I could find a few." Zarek was challenging him; Kurt could see it in his eyes. He wanted the real story.
"I offered to be Sarah Porter's aide first," Kurt admitted. "I'm Gemenese, after all. It makes sense. She turned me down- without an interview."
"Without an interview."
"Just by looking at me." Kurt raised his chin. "I'm sure that's a bit of knowledge that you can make use of."
"It is."
"It would be an interesting angle, don't you think?" Kurt continued. "Sagittaron and Gemenon are traditionally at odds, but the idea of forming an alliance shows that you, as a representative of Sagittaron, are willing to work with the rest of the Fleet."
Now Zarek looked amused. "I think I could convey that without hiring an assistant," he said. "However… you do bring up good points about me needing someone. And I have to admit, you're probably head and shoulders above a lot of these people when it comes to current events. Sagittaron educational systems… leave something to be desired."
"Mmm." Kurt decided to be diplomatic and say nothing.
"And you've got guts, waltzing in here," Zarek said. "All right. We'll give it a try for a week. You can start today, actually." He handed Kurt a stack of notes and pointed to an ancient typewriter in the corner. "I need them typed into a speech. I want it done by five, and then you'll return to the Cybele for the night."
"Yes, sir," Kurt said. The stack was thick- he was going to have to work extremely quickly. "Thank you."
"Thank me if it works out," Zarek said. "We'll see."
"Yes, sir." Kurt immediately sat down and got to work.
He left at five, his work completed and his neck and eyes sore. Zarek had just given him a grim nod and a brief reminder to be there at eight the next morning. It was a start, and a good one. He walked down the corridor between the cells, ignoring the catcalls a little easier. Halfway down, some little voice told him to turn around. He did, and looked up. Tom Zarek was watching him from a second-floor observation window. He'd likely seen Kurt coming, too.
Kurt raised his hand in a sassy farewell. He'd bet any money that the fact he'd kept going this morning was the reason he'd gotten his job.
Gaius and Caprica Six and Colonial Halloween (Yes, the Colonials had Halloween. Just go with it :) )
"It's a peculiar custom," she said, watching the children scamper away. "Is it Caprican?"
Gaius looked at her oddly. "Not just Caprican," he said. "You've never heard of Halloween?"
"Of course. But we never celebrated it."
"Then truly, you must have had a deprived childhood. Even in the rural wasteland of Aerelon, we were encouraged to dress up as little cretins and demand candy from our neighbors. A boorish custom, yes, but a childhood rite, and really, one I remember with some fondness."
"Mmm. And what did you dress up as, Gaius?" she purred.
Gaius's eyes unfocused as he chuckled with the memory. "A cat, one year. A hobo another."
"No mad scientist?"
He snorted. "Of course not. The idea of Halloween is to pretend to be something that you're not."
"Ah, so you admit to being completely mad."
"Mmm. I might be. I'm quite infatuated with you, after all, and I let you into the mainframe despite my better judgment and security clearances." He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, kissing her. Things were about to get interesting when the doorbell rang again, and to her surprise, Gaius actually pulled away.
"You can't just leave it?"
"Not if I don't want egg all over my house." He opened the door. "Well, well, what have we here! A Colonial officer, a snow leopard, and oh my! Look at the scary Cylon!"
That made her eyebrows go up, and she peered over Gaius's shoulder. There was a child in shiny tin foil covered boxes, dressed as what was supposed to be a Centurion. The mockery made her blood boil, and she desperately wanted to grab that bowl of candy from Gaius's hands and throw it at the child's head. How dare they turn the Cylons into a matter of jest? But then, Cylons had never been taken seriously on the Colonies- that was the point.
"Are you all right?"
She snapped back to the present, noticing that Gaius had closed the door and the children were gone. "Fine," she said, hiding her true feelings behind the mask of a smile. "But I don't think I will ever understand Halloween."
Tom Zarek and the Order of the Phoneix
Tom Zarek in politics was a dangerous thing. Tom Zarek with a wand, however, was beyond terrifying.
"Mr. Zarek," Snape hissed as they sat in the Order meeting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, "you have no idea how long this war has been fought. Your rash actions could cost the Order everything that we have worked for."
"I disagree," Sirius spoke up. "Zarek's got the right idea. Taking the fight to the Death Eaters-"
"We've been doing that as much as we can," Dumbledore said mildly. "But Severus is right that there is a need for caution."
"And not just blowing things up," Snape muttered. Dumbledore flicked a glance at him and he fell silent.
The meeting came to a conclusion, leaving Tom frustrated. He noticed that Sirius felt the same way, not that he could blame him.
"It's being trapped," Sirius complained later, when Tom joined him in the library. "Trapped and unable to do anything. That's my godson that they're protecting. That's my war that they're fighting!"
"I know exactly what you mean," Tom said fervently. "After months of being trapped in tin boxes while others did the fighting, I thought it would feel good to be back in the action. And it does."
"When there's action to be had," Sirius finished for him, pacing restlessly.
"We could take matters into our own hands," Tom suggested. "There are… other methods. Methods that Dumbledore has not considered."
Sirius scowled. "He's considered them, but he thinks the cost will be too high."
"There is always a price to be paid for change."
"Yes, but it's up to us to decide the price. We can give our lives because we made that choice. Muggles don't, because they don't even know there's a choice to be made. I've been the casualty. I won't make anyone else one."
"All right," Tom said, more because he knew when to back off than because he agreed. "But if you ever change your mind, let me know. Because I think, between you and me, we could set the Death Eaters back on their heels."
"And I have no doubt that we will, when the time is right." Sirius's grin was almost wolfish, but it faded fast. "But it's not right now. We have to wait."
"Waiting is something I'm good at," Tom said, thinking of twenty years of prison.
"Yeah," Sirius sighed, in perfect understanding. "So am I."
When Dee Met Starbuck
She was going to miss it. Dee ran through the space port, lugging her heavy bag. To her relief, the Raptor was still there. "Is this the Raptor heading up to the Galactica?" Dee asked the pilot that was leaning against it. The pilot had short blonde hair and was wearing sunglasses.
"It had better be," she said, "or I'm hijacking it and heading there." Dee decided to take that as a 'yes' and put her bag down on the ground. The pilot eyed her up and down. "So what did you do?"
"Excuse me?"
"You got assigned to the Galactica, which is almost like getting kicked out of the Fleet. What did you do?"
"Nothing," Dee said stiffly. "I just graduated basic."
The pilot took off her glasses, and Dee saw her check her rank insignia. "You did well, too," she said, taking in the Petty Officer's bars. "But there's got to be something. What base are you coming off of?"
"Ephilison."
"Really? Your accent isn't Gemenese."
"I'm not Gemenese," Dee said stiffly. "I'm Sagittaron."
The pilot threw back her head and laughed. "There you go," she said when she could speak again. "That's what you did. You dared to join the military." Dee's cheeks burned, but she'd learned the best course was to stay silent. "Don't worry," she said, slapping Dee on the shoulder. "It could be worse."
"Could it," Dee said dryly.
"Sure. The rest of the Fleet might not have you, but the Old Man will." The pilot finally extended her hand. "I'm Kara, by the way. Kara Thrace, but everyone calls me Starbuck."
"Anastasia Dualla, but everyone calls me Dee."
"Well, Dee, let's go," Kara said, pushing Dee towards the Raptor, not a little roughly.
"But- the pilot-"
"Frak the pilot. I'll fly us up." Kara pushed Dee into the Raptor and tossed their bags in after. "If the pilot wanted to fly us, he should have been on time." Kara slid into the pilots' seat. "Can you fly?"
"No."
"Well, I'll walk you through it. Come on." Kara grinned. "This will be fun."
"Wait, we should-" but the rest of Dee's protest was drowned out as the Raptor doors closed and the engines roared into life. Kara laughed, and the craft came alive under her hands. It lurched into air, and then took off.
They were really doing this. Frak, they were really doing this.
They broke atmo, and Dee's palms began to sweat. Up there in the ship yards was the Galactica, and onboard was a commanding officer who would be furious when he heard that a pilot had been left behind on the planet. It only took a few moments, and there it was, looming in front of them. Dee's breath caught in her throat.
"What's the matter?" Kara asked.
"Nothing," Dee said. "I've just never actually seen a battlestar before."
"Yeah, well, the thrill wears off," Kara said with a shrug. "Call us in, will you?"
Dee picked up the receiver. "Galactica, this is Raptor-" she checked the number- "718, requesting clearance for landing."
"Raptor 718? You must have had one hell of a time on world, Grateside."
"What makes you say that?"
"When you left, you were male," the voice said. "Who the hell is this?"
Kara snatched the receiver from Dee's hand. "Grateside's incapacitated. Just let us land and we'll explain it to the Old Man, all right?"
"You'd better."
The Raptor flew into the docking bay, and Dee tried not to gape. Not to gape and not to tremble, because when they made their way into the actual landing bay, the brass was coming down the stairs to greet them. She'd never met Commander Adama, but the way the crew straightened up as he passed made his identity clear.
"What the hell?" the bald officer at his side barked when the two women disembarked. "There had better be one frakking good explanation for this!"
"There is, sir," Kara said, addressing her words to the Commander rather than the officer who had spoken. "Grateside wasn't even at his Raptor when it was time to depart. Can't have such a lack in discipline, sir."
"So you took it on yourself to pilot up?" the bald officer demanded.
"It's called 'initiative', sir. The Colonial Fleet values it, or so I'm told."
A smile cracked Commander Adama's face. "Grateside was on his last warning anyway," he told the officer, and then saluted. "Lieutenant Thrace. Welcome aboard."
"Thank you, sir."
Adama's eyes turned to Dee. "Petty Officer Dualla," he said, and Dee was impressed he remembered her name. "I've heard good things about you. I look forward to working with you in the CIC."
The CIC? Dee's heart lurched upwards. Kara was right about Adama, it seemed. For the first time since she'd been assigned to the Galactica, Dee had hope that it was really going to go well, and really be her doorway into a different world and a different life than what she'd known. "Thank you, sir," she managed. She still couldn't believe they weren't in trouble. In fact, Adama seemed flat-out amused.
"Colonel Tigh," Adama said, putting a hand on Kara's shoulder. "Take Petty Officer Dualla to the CIC. I'll get Lieutenant Thrace settled in."
"Yes, sir," Tigh said. He watched Adama and Thrace disappear together, and then turned back to Dee. When he looked at her, Dee knew she wasn't in trouble with the Commander, but she was definitely in trouble with the XO. "Let's go," Tigh said sharply. "You're not going to get away with a stunt like that, believe me. You've already got two KP duties for that one."
Dee picked up her bag with an inward sigh. For some reason, she had the feeling that this wasn't the first mess of Kara Thrace's, nor would it be the last.
BSGlee: Finn and Helo
It had been an exciting few days, with Starbuck returning and Kobol and the map to Earth and everything. Finn kind of wondered why, if they had a map to Earth, it was going to take so long getting there, but no one else was really asking that so he kept his mouth shut. Besides, right now, the mood in the ready room wasn't one where you asked questions. It was positively cold, and the reason for that was sitting in the front row, next to Starbuck.
His name was Helo. Finn had heard a lot about Helo, because everyone thought he was dead, and apparently, Helo had been the kind of guy everyone would mourn. But now that he was back- and with a Cylon in tow- no one wanted the first thing to do with him. Which Finn totally got because, hey, genocide, but still. It did kind of suck for Helo.
Not enough that Finn went down at sat with him, of course.
He hadn't really thought about it, or what he wanted to do about it, until he was sitting alone in the mess hall. Mercedes was on the night shift and Santana was still flying drills and Puck was off getting his ass kicked by the Marines or something, and Finn knew that he'd better eat when he was given a chance, so he was eating alone. That was when Helo came over to him balancing a tray, trying not to look frantic. "Hey," he said. "Mind if I sit here? It's the only table open in the mess."
The only table, but not the only seat. But Finn could see the way the other pilots sat, their backs turned very deliberately to Helo. What else could he do? "Yeah, sure," Finn said.
"Thanks." Helo looked relieved. "I'm Helo, by the way."
"Yeah, I know," Finn said. There was an expectant pause, and then Finn realized what Helo was waiting for. "Oh, right. Finn Hudson. 'Twinkletoes.'"
"Nice to meet you," Helo said, and an awkward silence descended for a few long moments.
"Look," Helo said, after he'd eaten a few bites, "I don't mean to make things awkward for you."
"You're not," Finn lied. Helo gave him a 'you're full of it' sort of look, and Finn sighed. "Okay, yeah, so I'm kind of glad there's no Slushie machine on the Galactica right now, but I'm sure there's something like it."
"Slushie machine?"
"Yeah. Back at my old school, when people didn't like you, they threw Slushies in your face."
"The frozen drinks?" Helo asked incredulously. "Did that happen to you a lot?"
Finn nodded. "Sure. No one likes the glee club," he explained. "And I used to play Pyramid so…"
"What position?" Helo asked eagerly.
"Point guard."
"Me, too."
Oh, shit. Finn had a bad feeling he was going to like this guy. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Helo frowned. "We didn't have a glee club though. It was the marching band that got picked on in our school."
"What did you play?"
Helo flushed. "I didn't. I was one of the guys that shoved them into their lockers."
Finn cringed. "Before I joined glee, I was one of the guys who threw the Slushies," he admitted. "In fact, I used to toss the guy who's now my step-brother into the dumpster."
"Ouch." Helo winced sympathetically. "Good thing we grew up a bit, huh?"
"Yeah," Finn agreed. He poked his food with his fork.
"You're thinking about something," Helo prompted when Finn didn't say anything.
"Can I ask you something?" Finn said.
Helo spread his hands. "Ask me anything."
"The Cylon-"
"Sharon."
"Yeah. Is she really pregnant?"
"Yeah."
"Oh. Man." Finn frowned. "That's got to be kind of hard."
Helo snorted. "It's complicated."
"I know about complicated. I mean, I never knocked up a Cylon," Finn rushed to explain, "but my girlfriend, she sort of convinced me that I was the father of her baby when I wasn't."
"I'm definitely the father," Helo insisted, jutting his chin out.
"Didn't say you weren't. Just… you know, I don't know what I was trying to say," Finn admitted. "It was kind of stupid to bring it up." He stabbed his food viciously.
"How'd it end?"
"Huh?"
"Your girlfriend. How did it all end?"
"Oh, I found out before the baby was born. She had the baby and gave her up for adoption, and we even got back together for a bit. And Puck and I are friends again."
"So it all worked out in the end," Helo said.
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess it did," Finn realized, and smiled. "Maybe that's what I was trying to tell you? I don't know. I know it's nothing like this, but I guess at the time I thought it was all going to hell and it worked out. Maybe the same thing will happen for you?"
"Maybe it will," Helo agreed, although he didn't smile. "But thanks."
"For what?" Finn asked.
"You're the only one who's said anything like that to me since I got here."
"Oh." That sounded really, really lonely now that Finn thought about it. "Hey, listen," he began tentatively. "Me and a couple of friends, we're playing Triad tonight. If you want to play…."
"I can't," Helo said. "I've got duty. But another night, definitely."
"All right." Finn finished his food. "I hate to run, but I'm gonna get killed if I'm not back in time."
"You are," Helo agreed. "I'll see you around, Finn."
"Yeah. Take care." Finn waved as he headed out of the mess. He didn't turn back around, but if he had, he would have seen Helo smiling.
Gaeta and Dee, celestial navigation for dummies
"I don't know," Felix said, pushing the papers away from him in disgust. "How the hell am I supposed to figure this out? Why, if the Thirteenth tribe exists, didn't they just leave a nice, easy set of coordinates?"
"Got me," Dee said, pouring over the Scriptures. "It's like those old playwrights we had to study in school. All that symbolism. If the crown was supposed to represent the burdens of the king and the wisdom he acquired, why didn't the writer just say that?"
"I don’t know," Felix said. "I always just made it up."
"Yeah. Me, too."
They looked at each other.
"No," Felix said. "They'll figure it out."
"How?" Dee asked. "This isn't a guessing game for them. If they knew where they wanted us to go, they'd tell us. They can't even yell at us for getting it wrong."
"Yes they can," Felix predicted gloomily.
"Well, then, they can figure this out."
"All right," Felix began. "Let's say we did make it up. How would we do it?"
"I don't know," Dee began thoughtfully. "I can mark some likely passages of Scripture that we can interpret creatively. And if you want…"
"What?" Felix pushed when she didn't answer.
"I'll put in a word with Abrahamson and we'll take the Galactica for a 360. You can recruit Lindstrom and we can scan for likely 'signposts'."
"You're insane."
"If the Gods exist, they'll guide our journey," Dee sing-songed.
"So you basically want to use the Galactica and the galaxy as one giant Ouija board," Felix said.
Dee nodded.
"Well, what else have we got to lose?" Felix asked. "Let's do it."
It took a few spin-and-jumps, but eventually, that was the exact way that they found the Lion's Head Nebula.