BSG fic: Letting Go (nc-17)
Title: Letting Go
Author: SabaceanBabe
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 6,456
Characters/Pairings: Racetrack/Helo, minor Kat/Hotdog, implied Helo/Sharon
Spoilers: through Pegasus and possibly for Resurrection Ship, although those are only based on rumors and conjecture and totally AU by the time this hits the public view. :P
Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to lots of people who aren’t me. Not making any money off this, please don’t sue.
Author’s note: My undying thanks and admiration go to un4scene, poisontaster, and reneedy for both ongoing and last-minute beta. You ladies rock my world.
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I’m desperate for changing, starving for truth
I’m closer to where I started; I’m chasing after you
I’m falling even more in love with you, letting go of all I’ve held onto
I’m standing here until you make me move
I’m hanging by a moment here with you
Forgetting all I’m lacking, completely incomplete
I’ll take your invitation, you take all of me…
-- Lifehouse, Hanging by a Moment
***
Maggie stared down at her cards. She was aware that she had a scowl on her face, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t thinking about the damned cards, anyway.
“So how’s Sharon?” Starbuck asked Helo and Maggie didn’t miss the glance the two of them shot at her while he thought about his answer.
He threw in ten cubits, which matched Maggie’s raise; the coins clinked against the others in the pot with an almost merry sound. “She’s doing okay.” He poked his tongue into his cheek and she couldn’t drag her eyes back down to the cards in her hands and that frakking pissed her off. There was a bruise on the point of his jaw, just below where his tongue tented his cheek, that had faded to an ugly mix of yellow and green. “Cottle said there wasn’t any permanent damage. Not physically, anyway.”
A quick glance over at Gaeta told her that he, too, seemed to know what Helo was talking about, even though he didn’t comment. She didn’t like being talked around like she wasn’t there; although, to be fair, she had already allowed her mouth to get away from her when she’d made a comment about Helo bringing a genocidal toaster back from Caprica as a souvenir…
“I still can’t get over you being a father…” Starbuck grinned and shook her head, then took a swallow of the Chief’s rotgut.
Helo returned her grin. “Me, neither.”
“The kid’s gonna be half toaster,” Maggie muttered under her breath. At least, she thought it was under her breath. She felt three pairs of eyes on her, though, and looked up, met Starbuck’s gaze from across the table. “What? It’s true, isn’t it? Probably won’t live to be born.” Gaeta looked back down at his cards and made a show of concentrating on his next bet, whether to call or fold. Starbuck just shook her head and this time it wasn’t an expression of amusement. Helo…
Helo glared at her and clenched his teeth, bit back a sharp retort. The tension that had begun to fade as he relaxed from her earlier taunts had returned.
Coins chinked when they hit the pile - What a laugh. As if money means anything now. - and Gaeta said, “Another five to you, Maggie.” It was then she realized she and Helo were still glaring at each other. Some of the anger had faded from his eyes, but not all of it. She didn’t know what shone from hers.
She recalled the first time she saw him, a lifetime ago, transferred from Atlantia because of her mouth. He hadn’t even known she was alive, spending all his time, it seemed, with either Boomer or Starbuck. There hadn’t been any room for her in his world, then. Not that she’d had any right to care, not with a fiance back on Sagittaron, but still, she had. He’d always been a nice guy, and too easy on the eyes…
She dropped her gaze, not comfortable with the way he still looked at her. How the frak could he get a toaster pregnant, anyway? Oh, stop it, Maggie. Pay attention to the frakkin’ game. Her hand was decent, but not good, and she didn’t think she would be able to bluff properly today, not with the undercurrents at the table that hadn’t been there before she’d opened her big mouth.
Things had gotten better for them all, then worse, and now better again since they had met up with Pegasus. Something to do with the knowledge that they weren’t the only line of defense against the Cylons, that there really were reinforcements and that if one of them was out of commission, either temporarily or permanently, there was someone else to take up the slack.
Granted, some of the Pegasus’ pilots were jerks, but they were good at killing Cylons and that was what mattered, right?
“It’s to you, Racetrack,” Helo prompted her, his voice cool, not friendly the way it was when he spoke to his buddy Starbuck. The two of them were probably frakking each other, anyway, pregnant toaster notwithstanding…
And that’s when her mouth got away from her again. “Anxious to get back to your Cylon whore?” As soon as the words came out, she wanted to grab them back, sink under the table, anything to not have him look at her like that. Like he wanted to smash her face in. There was a similar look on Starbuck’s face and Maggie couldn’t help but think about the last time she had said those words and she had to fight to keep from reaching up to rub at her forehead. She’d had a knot there for two days.
Gods! What is wrong with me? I never used to be such an ass, did I?
Gaeta and Starbuck exchanged a look, Maggie saw from the corner of her eye, but Helo still stared daggers at her. Big, nasty, serrated daggers.
He stood suddenly, his chair toppling over behind him with an unnaturally loud crack and then every eye in the room was on their little table. All conversation ceased and the only sound was the faint strain of a piano from someone’s player. “You frakking bitch.” He punctuated the last word - one she probably deserved even if he was sleeping with the enemy - by throwing his cards at her. It kind of worried her that his voice was so even, that he didn’t yell.
She opened her mouth to say something, whether to apologize or to dig herself in a little deeper she didn’t know, but he didn’t give her the chance. He turned and stalked from the room, left the downed chair where it lay.
“Good going, genius.” Starbuck’s voice was an amazing combination of cutting sarcasm and crushing disappointment, as though she had somehow thought that Helo had been accepted by everyone as a comrade and friend since returning from his brief reassignment to Pegasus. All too brief, Maggie sometimes thought. He’d only been gone for a couple of days before he was back on Galactica’s duty roster; it was easier to forget that there was another copy of Boomer, who had been her friend, on board Galactica when Helo wasn’t around.
The conversations and activity in the room resumed. Maggie slumped into her chair, idly studied Helo’s abandoned cards - he’d been only one card short of full colors. “Okay, maybe I was out of line, but what’s the big deal?”
Starbuck startled her when she stood and walked toward her, anger in her eyes and a little bit of menace in her step. Maggie was embarrassed when she flinched as the other woman bent to right the toppled chair and then pulled it in close. Her whisper was as fierce as her gaze when she said, “The big deal. You want to know what the big deal is?” A glance at Gaeta and he moved to stand behind Starbuck, for all the world like he stood guard in case any of the others in the room came close enough to overhear what she was about to say.
Maggie straightened up in her chair, intending to stand, to leave, but Starbuck’s next words stopped her cold. “Sharon was raped a week ago. Seems that’s a standard method of Cylon interrogation on Pegasus. Helo and Chief Tyrol tried to stop it and Peggy’s Cylon Interrogator was killed.”
Maggie realized that her mouth hung open and she shut it with a snap. “Oh, my gods.” A memory of the Chief and Helo running as if the hounds of hell were after them flashed through her mind. They had been shouting for the people in the corridor to get out of the way. Helo had even touched her shoulder in passing, steadying her after he almost ran her down. She remembered that, at the time, she thought he hadn’t recognized her and she’d wondered what was up.
“They were taken to Pegasus for court-martial. While they were there, they were both beaten pretty badly; I think Helo said he got three broken ribs out of the deal. The only thing that saved him and the Chief from summary execution for that bastard’s death was the Cylons.”
She met Starbuck’s eyes. “The Raptor that was launched to Pegasus…?”
“Was sent to rescue Sharon’s boys.” She sat back in the chair, but still kept her voice low. “We almost went to war with our own kind because two men tried to fight for that ‘Cylon whore.’”
Sharon raped… Helo beaten and almost executed… Gods, no wonder he looks at me with such loathing, the things I’ve said.
Maggie looked up at Starbuck again, and at Gaeta, who divided his attention between Starbuck and herself. No one else paid them any heed and Maggie realized that only Starbuck and Gaeta - and now she - knew what had happened a week ago. “I didn’t know,” she whispered, appalled at what had happened to Sharon, to Helo and the Chief. Appalled by her own insensitivity. “I didn’t know.”
“Well, now you do.” Starbuck stood. “If you ever again say anything like that to him again in my hearing, I’ll put you in the infirmary.”
Maggie swallowed, stood. “Don’t worry.”
She had to find Helo. She needed, if only for her own peace of mind, to make him understand that she truly felt bad for what his Sharon had gone through - no one deserved to be treated like that, not even an enemy.
***
“Helo!” she shouted as she finally caught sight of him. As she had suspected, given what she now knew and the stupid things she’d said, he was on his way to the brig.
At the sound of her voice his shoulders stiffened, but that was the only indication that he’d heard her. He didn’t stop. If anything, he picked up his pace and she did the same, running to overcome his much longer stride. If she was right there in front of him, he couldn’t ignore her…
Maggie touched his sleeve when she was close enough and he did stop, then, and whirled around to face her, clearly still angry. “Leave me the frak alone.” He turned his back on her and started back down the corridor.
“Helo, please! I just want to apologize.”
Again, he stopped. With only a slight turn of his head, he shot over his shoulder, “Why?”
Tentatively, she took a couple of steps toward him. “Starbuck told me everything,” she blurted out. Dammit! she thought and closed her eyes, said a silent prayer to any of the gods who might be listening to help her control her mouth. Helo wasn’t the only person on board who made her lose control like this (Starbuck came to mind), but it was the worst with him.
The air suddenly felt close and she opened her eyes when she realized that Helo had turned and was standing right in front of her. She hadn’t heard him move. “Starbuck told you what?” The look in his eyes was intense and dangerous, but for once the anger there didn’t seem to be directed at Maggie.
“She told me about what happened to Sharon, what happened to you and the Chief.” Helo took a step away from her and raised his hands, locked his fingers behind his head. He didn’t look angry anymore; he looked deflated, and hurt that Starbuck had betrayed his trust. “Helo, I won’t tell anyone else. She was defending you, you and Sharon. I…” She sighed and closed the space between them again, raised a hand to touch his shoulder, but thought better of it, dropped her hand back to her side. “I guess I really didn’t give her much choice.”
He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. She couldn’t read his face, his eyes, and the stray thought ran through her head that if he used that expression playing Triad, he wouldn’t lose so often. “So what, then? You know what happened so she’s suddenly not a ‘Cylon whore?’”
“Oh, gods, Helo.” Maggie heard the almost-whine in her voice and stopped to take a deep breath. He just watched her. “I’m so sorry. My mouth always seems to get me in trouble. Boomer was my friend. When she pulled a gun and shot the Old Man… gods. She was standing right beside me.” Still he watched her, not encouraging, but not discouraging, either. “I just felt… shocked? Betrayed? I guess… Well, I guess I know that your Sharon isn’t the same one, but… I’m worried about you… us all. I mean, if Boomer could turn like that, without any warning…” He hadn’t moved or reacted at all and she didn’t much feel like continuing. “Look, I’m sorry. I never should have said those things about her, okay? It won’t-”
…happen again, she was going to say, but Helo cut her off. “No, you shouldn’t have.” He pushed away from the wall. “I don’t give a frak what you call me, or what you or anyone else on this boat thinks of me, but leave Sharon alone.” The Triad face was gone as he became more agitated. He took a step toward her and Maggie took an involuntary step back. “She’s done nothing but help us since I was stupid enough to bring her back here and yes, I love a toaster, but so what? I didn’t ask for it; it just happened.”
He began to pace back and forth across the corridor and she was reminded of a cougar in a cage. “I’m sick to death of saying the words, but she’s carrying my child. If I didn’t love her, I’d still stay by her side if only for that. I don’t take it lightly. I can’t turn my feelings off and I don’t want to. She’s good and she’s smart and she’s everything I ever wanted.” Helo stopped pacing and looked at Maggie, almost as if he’d forgotten she was there. He didn’t say anything for a second and she wondered if he expected her to agree with him, or something. “If you don’t like it, then that’s just too damn bad.”
Helo turned, then, and walked away. Maggie watched him go, headed to see his pregnant Cylon girlfriend, and she had to wonder, Is he trying to convince me that what he says is true, or himself?
***
Dinner had been wonderful, the best food Maggie had eaten in she didn’t know how long - since long before the destruction of their home worlds, anyway. She sat back in her chair and surveyed the Starlight Lounge; there were people everywhere, drinking at the long bar, sitting at tables chatting and eating, gyrating on the dance floor. If she squinted, she could almost convince herself that it was her favorite haunt, the one on Leonis, which it superficially resembled.
“Damn, that was good,” Louanne said beside her, echoing her own thought. The Viper pilot pushed her empty plate toward the center of the table and leaned her elbows in the resulting clear space, rested her chin on her hands, and looked longingly back and forth between Brendan and the dance floor. Kat’s desire to dance with Hotdog was so transparent, it was almost comical.
Maggie leaned in close and bumped her shoulder against her friend’s arm, whispered, “You’re being too subtle for the poor boy, Lou, he’s never going to ask you to dance.”
Louanne, ravishing in a low-cut red sweater, sighed. “You’re right. I guess I’ll just have to take charge.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Maggie laughed. It felt good, being here with friends, pretending for a little while that they were just normal people out to relax and have a good time instead of humanity’s only defense against an implacable enemy. Shut up, Maggie, she told herself, before you jinx it.
Then, Too late. Across the smoky restaurant/bar, Kara Thrace walked in, and she dragged a seriously reluctant and seriously depressed-looking Helo with her. The earlier conversations Maggie’d had with Starbuck and Helo flitted through her mind and the inroads she’d made toward mellow evaporated. The pair were dressed as civilians, just like Maggie’s little group, if maybe a bit more casual, because they had all discovered long ago that it was so much easier to avoid notice when not in uniform. The grateful people could be just as stressful as the anti-military types.
Louanne smacked Maggie’s arm. “Look what the cat dragged in.” Then she stood and shouted, “Kara! Over here!” Maggie sunk down into her chair and covered her eyes with one hand. At least she didn’t use her call sign… That would’ve been just perfect, letting the other patrons know that they were military. The sudden tension Maggie felt would have ratcheted up at that exponentially.
Peeking from under her hand, Maggie saw Helo try to back out, pull Starbuck toward the bar, but she had hold of his wrist and wouldn’t let go. Instead, she pulled him over to the table in her wake and he had no choice but to go along or make a scene. “Just look at them, Karl. They’ve graduated from nuggets to rooks.” She eyed the detritus of their meal, scattered about the table. “Why, I think they even used silverware instead of their fingers. I’m so proud.” Helo rolled his eyes, dismissing her comment while he surreptitiously tried to pull away again. Rather than letting him go, she just pulled him in closer, her grin widening.
“You two should join us,” Louanne offered. “We’ve eaten already, but there’s plenty of room…”
Starbuck winked. “Not right now, Kat. We’re gonna hit the bar.” She shot a look at her reluctant companion. “If we don’t get a little lubrication first, we’ll just end up bringing the whole party to a crashing halt.”
Helo narrowed his eyes at her, but he still didn’t say anything and they returned to the bar; he’d apparently given up on trying to break free. They talked as they went and Maggie felt a twinge of jealousy at the sight, at the easy way they had with each other.
Louanne also watched the two walk away - probably eyeing Helo’s ass, Maggie thought sourly - then, taking a page from Starbuck’s book, Lou grabbed Brendan by the wrist and dragged him to the dance floor, both of them grinning like loons. In the still-occupied seat on Maggie’s right, Nikos “Rabbit” Soldano was talking to Aaron Kelly about all the things from their previous lives that they missed, but, with the help of the alcohol, their stories got wilder by the minute; she tuned them out. Across from her, Duck, whose real name she could never remember, was twisted around the back of his chair as he spoke to a blonde at the next table.
Across the room at the bar, Helo slammed two shots in quick succession. When he reached for a third, Starbuck stopped him with a hand on his arm and a concerned look on her face, an expression Maggie had never seen from the usually abrasive Thrace. Well, she had maybe seen that look a few weeks ago, when Kat had been taken out of the hangar bay on a stretcher…
Knuckles rapped on the table next to her and Maggie jumped. With a sheepish look, she turned to Kelly. “Sorry. Guess I was zoning. What did you say?”
“Nick and I are gonna hit the bar. You want another one?” He gestured at her nearly empty wineglass.
“Sure. Thank you.” The wine wasn’t all that good, but it was sure better than the Chief’s hooch back home. Huh. When did I start thinking of Galactica as home?
The two passed Helo and Starbuck, who had left the bar, drinks in hand. Starbuck set her drink on the table and Helo pulled out the empty chair directly across from Maggie, but before he could sit, there came a shout from the bar. One of the bartenders waved his arms as he called out, “Ka-ra! Phone call!”
Helo shot her a surprised look. “I didn’t think anyone knew we were here.”
Kara shrugged. “I told Hoshi, in case anyone needed me. I’ll be back.” She speared Maggie with her gaze. “Don’t forget our discussion…”
Maggie rolled her eyes and gave her a sneer, waved her away.
Helo didn’t let it go, though. One eyebrow raised, he asked, “Discussion?”
She felt herself blush. “Oh, you know. This afternoon, after you threw your cards at me?”
He grinned, no doubt at Maggie’s all-too-obvious discomfort. “What’d she say?”
No way was she going to mention that comment about the infirmary. “Oh, nothing much. Just what I told you before. About you and-”
“Hey, Karl, I have to go,” Starbuck interrupted. Maggie jumped; Kara hadn’t been gone long and Maggie hadn’t noticed her return. “You two’ll be okay without me, right?” There was a significant look in Maggie’s direction.
His eyes still on Maggie, Helo said, “I’m a big boy, Kara. I think I can handle Racetrack all by myself.”
“I dunno, Karl. I seem to recall something about you and some guys on Pegasus…”
“There were a bunch of ‘em and they were big. Racetrack’s kinda puny…” A bunch of big guys? Maggie’s eyes drifted to the bruise on his jaw.
Kara squeezed Helo’s shoulder, but her attention was on Maggie. “You play nice. I wasn’t kidding.”
“Go away, Starbuck,” he said, and Maggie shot him a grateful look.
***
Maggie didn’t know how long she and Helo had talked, long enough that they were no longer wary with each other and had begun calling each other Karl and Mags. Long enough that the Starlight’s kitchen had shut down, which left only the bar and the dance floor. There were just as many people as before - if not more - but the lights were dim, the music louder, and the atmosphere which resulted was much more intimate.
Karl had long since shifted into the chair next to her, but now he leaned in close to hear her over the music. “I’m sorry?”
“I said, do you want to dance?” She smiled at him. He had relaxed a bit over the past couple of hours, but he was still tense, still somewhat distracted, and she wanted to make him forget whatever it was that had caused Starbuck to drag him here in the first place.
He shook his head and laughed, a brief sound, but the first one she’d heard all evening. “No, thanks, Mags. I don’t get a lot of practice, so I’d probably just break one of your feet.”
She thought about that. He was a big guy, but not usually clumsy, not that she’d ever noticed. When she looked up to tell him so, she saw that he stared into his glass, watching the dim light as it was refracted by the amber-colored liquor. Again, preoccupied and sad. Instead of telling him that he’d do just fine if he danced with her, she asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
They’d spoken of mostly safe subjects since Starbuck had left them together, things like the rain on Caprica and how he and Starbuck had run into the Caprica Buccaneers. That story had been kind of funny, but even with that one, he’d shied away from bits of it and had changed the subject, she was sure, before he’d reached the end. Since they’d begun talking, not once had he mentioned Boomer.
He looked up at her, but didn’t say anything right away and she thought he was going to shy away again, maybe ask her talk about what? Instead, he surprised her. “After I left you, I went to see Sharon.”
She swirled the dark red wine in her glass. “I figured that’s where you were headed.”
“We argued.”
“Argued?”
“She told me she’d been thinking about a lot of things, that, locked up in a cage, she really had nothing but time to think.” He traced an aimless pattern on the tablecloth, studied the movements of his fingers and Maggie wasn’t sure if he was avoiding eye contact with her or simply lost in the memory. “She said what I have now is no kind of life, dividing my time between visiting her and work, and that she had no right to drag me down like that. That I should forget about her, try to pick up the pieces of my old life.”
He lifted his glass and drank and Maggie’s eyes were drawn to his throat as he swallowed, drawn by the play of the light on his skin as the muscles moved underneath. She dragged her gaze away only to see that he watched her, now, and that the aimless pattern tracing had ceased. “What did you say to that?” She was ridiculously proud of herself that her voice remained steady and she didn’t stammer under the weight of his intense gaze.
A humorless laugh answered her question, then, “That it was a load of crap. That we never should have come back to the Fleet. That none of the awful things that had happened to her would’ve happened if I hadn’t dragged her back here.” More patterns on the table. “Of course, she countered that it had been her choice to come with me and that none of what happened to me on Pegasus would’ve happened if I wasn’t with her.” He downed the rest of his drink and took a deep breath. “She said she didn’t want me killed because of my relationship with her and that she was sick of having the threat of me being spaced held over her head if she didn’t cooperate.”
Maggie held her breath. She didn’t want him to continue, because what she was hearing was horrible. Boomer held in check by threats to Helo’s life? His life threatened because of his relationship with her? But he talked and she listened, because she didn’t know what else she could do to help him.
“She told me she doesn’t want to see me anymore. Doesn’t want to talk to me. I’m supposed to stop thinking about her.” Maggie could see in his eyes that he replayed the whole thing, every bitter word the two had said to each other. “She’s trying to protect me again, just like she did on Caprica, only there really isn’t anything she can do. I don’t think she even understands that I can’t do what she asks. I mean, I know what she is; I didn’t walk into this blindly. Okay, I didn’t know what she was, at first, but then I did and nothing really changed. Every day I wonder what the frak I’m doing, ask myself how I can justify my feelings for her when her fellow Cylons wiped out most of the human race. She may not have participated in genocide directly, but she didn’t try to stop it, either.”
“Karl…”
“Anyway, I had to leave for my shift. When I was off duty, I went back to see her, but I wasn’t allowed in. She’d requested that I be denied access.” He shook his head and Maggie thought she saw the glitter of tears in his eyes, but she couldn’t be sure; his voice didn’t reflect it. “I slammed out of there. I didn’t really know where I was headed, but I ran into Kara. You pretty much know the story from there.”
He offered her a small, sad smile and Maggie thought her heart might just break. She remembered the way he’d been before the Cylons, remembered his easy laughter and ready smile, both of them gone now. She could maybe stand their lack, but not this sadness.
Without a conscious decision to do so, she stood and reached for his hands where they rested on the table, no longer tracing those aimless patterns. She pulled him to his feet and barely noticed that he towered over her. A step toward him brought her close enough that she could feel the heat that radiated from his body through his thin shirt.
A bemused smile on his handsome face, he asked, “What’re you doing, Mags?”
She smiled up at him as she slipped an arm around his waist, felt the roughness of the bandages that helped to stabilize the broken ribs Starbuck had mentioned. “I’m invading your space.” She carefully exerted a tiny bit of pressure and he allowed himself to be led to the dance floor. A haunting melody, slow and hypnotic, had begun to play, one that encouraged slow dances and seduction. “You need some time with no cares, nothing to worry about, nothing to think about, even if it’s only for the space of a song.”
That song was slow and romantic and half of those dancing left to take a break, so there was plenty of space for the two of them to slip into. His arms felt good around her waist as she lifted hers to circle around his shoulders. She rested her cheek against his chest, listened to the steady thump of his heart. It startled her when he rested his chin on the top of her head. Neither of them said a word, just swayed in time to the strains of guitar and piano.
The music ended, but they remained as they were for a long moment after, both reluctant to break the spell and return to the real world. Finally, Karl whispered, “I love her, Mags.” She shifted her head so that she could look up at him. “And I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m a big girl, Karl Agathon. And I don’t need forever; I’ll settle for right now.”
She didn’t know what he might have responded to that, because another song began and Louanne and Brendan were there, dragged them apart to dance with them to the hard driving beat and the moment was lost.
***
Maggie flipped over and punched her pillow into a more comfortable shape, laid her head back down. Through the sliver of space between her privacy curtains, there was just enough light that she could see the dim shape of the racks across from hers. From the faint (and not so faint) sounds she heard, only one of those racks was occupied, but that one held two people.
She couldn’t sleep. Maybe she hadn’t had enough to drink or maybe there were too many thoughts and feelings chasing around inside her head. Or maybe it was Karl in the rack above hers as he tossed and turned, clearly also unable to sleep. Whatever it was, her brain just wouldn’t shut off.
Briefly, snippets of older memories danced through her mind, her grandmother when Maggie’d been a small child, as she held Maggie’s baby brother in her arms and sang him a lullaby; that same little brother, all grown up as he introduced Maggie to his college roommate, Eric, a man who had later become her fiance.
But when she tried to conjure Eric’s face, a man she had once loved but from whom she’d been drifting even before the Cylon attack, the only face she could see was Karl’s. The way he’d looked that afternoon in the corridor, fire in his eyes. Or later, when Starbuck had brought him, the picture of reluctance, to the Starlight Lounge. Or later still, when he’d laughed, however small and bittersweet a thing it had been. And superimposed over them all was the way he’d looked when he’d said he didn’t want to hurt her and she’d known that he felt it too, this attraction.
Above her, Karl shifted again and shortly after she heard the sound of his privacy curtain as he pulled it back. A dark shadow cut off the ambient light through the gap in her own curtains as he climbed down from his rack. Maggie moved her head for a better view and saw him open the hatch and slip silently through it.
On impulse, she threw back her blanket and pulled on a pair of sweats, followed him. She didn’t want to examine too closely why she followed him and so she concentrated instead on keeping him in her sight.
It was very late and they encountered no one as they moved through the big ship. It soon became apparent to Maggie that Karl was headed to the hangar bay and she thought she knew exactly where she’d find him.
Sure enough, a couple of minutes later he slipped into the deserted hangar and then into Raptor 312, which had once been blazoned with the legend “LTJG Sharon ‘Boomer’ Valerii,” but now read “LTJG Margaret ‘Racetrack’ Edmondson.” He didn’t come back out.
Maggie waited, she didn’t know how long. There was no sign of movement in the Raptor and she wondered if maybe he’d simply laid down on the deck inside, having gained some measure of peace from his own memories, and fallen asleep. Finally, she began to move, inexorably drawn to the Raptor and the man inside.
He’d left the hatch open, so it was easy for her to enter. It struck her how different everything looked in downtime, dark and full of secrets. The metal decking was cold beneath her bare feet.
He sat in the pilot’s chair and stared into space, deep in thought or memory, and he was unaware of her presence as she walked softly over to him. She saw that he, too, was barefoot, his right foot resting on the dormant control console. His bare shoulder was smooth and warm under her fingertips as she circled between him and that console. He lifted his eyes to meet hers and she realized that she had been wrong; he had known she was here, that she had followed him, all along and she wondered if that open hatch had been deliberate.
Neither of them spoke as he reached to pull her down into his lap. She cupped his cheek, smoothed her thumb over his lower lip, as she’d wanted to do since forever. His eyes held hers as he opened his mouth and nipped at the pad of her thumb. Then, by mutual if silent agreement, they kissed. His mouth tasted faintly of mint, nothing at all of the liquor he’d been drinking only hours ago, although just as intoxicating.
Maggie melted into him, lost herself in the sensation of his arm supporting her shoulders as he leaned her back, the feel and taste of his tongue, the warmth of his hand as it slid beneath her tank to cup her otherwise bare breast, the soft hairs at the back of his neck as she stroked the skin there.
Her current position didn’t allow her much room to move, not that she minded terribly except that there was little she could do with her hands unless she pushed him away from her, so she did the only thing she could. Gripping the back of his tank, she tugged, the fabric bunching up in her hands until she could pull it over his head, which he helpfully dipped for her when it was clear what she wanted.
Removing his tank forced them to break apart and Maggie’s eyes met Karl’s. She saw mirrored in those beautiful eyes the same hunger she felt, but the intensity of his gaze was too much for her. She broke that contact, pulled away, stood, yanked her own tank over her head then skimmed sweats and underwear over her hips. She stepped out of them and stood before him, naked and vulnerable and filled with need.
His hands gripped tightly the arms of the chair; he looked stunned. The only sound in the close confines of the Raptor was that of their harsh breathing. Then he met her eyes again and the look she saw there now was… scared. She took the two steps that brought her back to him, knelt beside the chair. She wanted this so badly, she wasn’t going to give up now. “Not forever, Karl. Not forever…”
His troubled expression cleared. He stood and pulled her up with him, caressed her arms with hands that seemed to burn. That feverish touch continued over her shoulders, her throat, and when he reached her chin he tilted her head so that she had to look at him again. A faint smile played about his lips. “We can have right now…”
And then she was in his arms. His tongue swept her mouth, the bandage around his ribs abraded her nipples as she lifted her arms to embrace broad shoulders. His hands - those burning hands - cupped her ass and she could feel just how hard he was for her. He took a step and then another, not stopping until he had her pressed against one of the few spots on the bulkhead that wasn’t covered with dials and switches.
The contrast between the Raptor’s cold skin and Karl’s heat made Maggie shiver. And then he made it worse when he stepped away from her, her skin pebbling without the warmth of his body. But it was only to shed the rest of his clothes before returning to her, mouth to mouth, skin to skin, his hands roaming over her, stroking, caressing. He pulled his mouth from hers again, ducked his head, sucked her nipple into his mouth and a spike of pure flame shot through her. She would have collapsed if he hadn’t pinned her to the bulkhead.
He tugged sharply at her nipple and slid a finger into her, stroking. Wanting, needing an entirely different part of him inside her, she closed her fingers around him and squeezed.
A noise from the hangar outside drifted to them, then. It was too early for the next shift, but they definitely weren’t alone in the hangar bay. They both stopped for a split second at the sound, but they were too far gone. With a sound of surrender, Karl shifted his hand from between her legs to glide down to her knee, lifted her leg up to his hip, slammed into her. She bit his arm to keep from crying out.
No longer capable of thought, Maggie abandoned herself to pure sensation as Karl thrust into her. The tide rose between them, stronger with each stroke, until it crashed over her, over him, and she had to cling to him to keep from falling.
Resting her head against his chest, as she had done when they danced, she listened to the rhythm of his heart, racing in time to her own. It was then that she understood that clinging to Karl Agathon wouldn’t, couldn’t prevent her from falling. It was far too late for that.
Feedback is appreciated and adored.
Maybe tonight I can actually get some sleep.
Author: SabaceanBabe
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 6,456
Characters/Pairings: Racetrack/Helo, minor Kat/Hotdog, implied Helo/Sharon
Spoilers: through Pegasus and possibly for Resurrection Ship, although those are only based on rumors and conjecture and totally AU by the time this hits the public view. :P
Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to lots of people who aren’t me. Not making any money off this, please don’t sue.
Author’s note: My undying thanks and admiration go to un4scene, poisontaster, and reneedy for both ongoing and last-minute beta. You ladies rock my world.
-----------------------------
I’m desperate for changing, starving for truth
I’m closer to where I started; I’m chasing after you
I’m falling even more in love with you, letting go of all I’ve held onto
I’m standing here until you make me move
I’m hanging by a moment here with you
Forgetting all I’m lacking, completely incomplete
I’ll take your invitation, you take all of me…
-- Lifehouse, Hanging by a Moment
***
Maggie stared down at her cards. She was aware that she had a scowl on her face, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t thinking about the damned cards, anyway.
“So how’s Sharon?” Starbuck asked Helo and Maggie didn’t miss the glance the two of them shot at her while he thought about his answer.
He threw in ten cubits, which matched Maggie’s raise; the coins clinked against the others in the pot with an almost merry sound. “She’s doing okay.” He poked his tongue into his cheek and she couldn’t drag her eyes back down to the cards in her hands and that frakking pissed her off. There was a bruise on the point of his jaw, just below where his tongue tented his cheek, that had faded to an ugly mix of yellow and green. “Cottle said there wasn’t any permanent damage. Not physically, anyway.”
A quick glance over at Gaeta told her that he, too, seemed to know what Helo was talking about, even though he didn’t comment. She didn’t like being talked around like she wasn’t there; although, to be fair, she had already allowed her mouth to get away from her when she’d made a comment about Helo bringing a genocidal toaster back from Caprica as a souvenir…
“I still can’t get over you being a father…” Starbuck grinned and shook her head, then took a swallow of the Chief’s rotgut.
Helo returned her grin. “Me, neither.”
“The kid’s gonna be half toaster,” Maggie muttered under her breath. At least, she thought it was under her breath. She felt three pairs of eyes on her, though, and looked up, met Starbuck’s gaze from across the table. “What? It’s true, isn’t it? Probably won’t live to be born.” Gaeta looked back down at his cards and made a show of concentrating on his next bet, whether to call or fold. Starbuck just shook her head and this time it wasn’t an expression of amusement. Helo…
Helo glared at her and clenched his teeth, bit back a sharp retort. The tension that had begun to fade as he relaxed from her earlier taunts had returned.
Coins chinked when they hit the pile - What a laugh. As if money means anything now. - and Gaeta said, “Another five to you, Maggie.” It was then she realized she and Helo were still glaring at each other. Some of the anger had faded from his eyes, but not all of it. She didn’t know what shone from hers.
She recalled the first time she saw him, a lifetime ago, transferred from Atlantia because of her mouth. He hadn’t even known she was alive, spending all his time, it seemed, with either Boomer or Starbuck. There hadn’t been any room for her in his world, then. Not that she’d had any right to care, not with a fiance back on Sagittaron, but still, she had. He’d always been a nice guy, and too easy on the eyes…
She dropped her gaze, not comfortable with the way he still looked at her. How the frak could he get a toaster pregnant, anyway? Oh, stop it, Maggie. Pay attention to the frakkin’ game. Her hand was decent, but not good, and she didn’t think she would be able to bluff properly today, not with the undercurrents at the table that hadn’t been there before she’d opened her big mouth.
Things had gotten better for them all, then worse, and now better again since they had met up with Pegasus. Something to do with the knowledge that they weren’t the only line of defense against the Cylons, that there really were reinforcements and that if one of them was out of commission, either temporarily or permanently, there was someone else to take up the slack.
Granted, some of the Pegasus’ pilots were jerks, but they were good at killing Cylons and that was what mattered, right?
“It’s to you, Racetrack,” Helo prompted her, his voice cool, not friendly the way it was when he spoke to his buddy Starbuck. The two of them were probably frakking each other, anyway, pregnant toaster notwithstanding…
And that’s when her mouth got away from her again. “Anxious to get back to your Cylon whore?” As soon as the words came out, she wanted to grab them back, sink under the table, anything to not have him look at her like that. Like he wanted to smash her face in. There was a similar look on Starbuck’s face and Maggie couldn’t help but think about the last time she had said those words and she had to fight to keep from reaching up to rub at her forehead. She’d had a knot there for two days.
Gods! What is wrong with me? I never used to be such an ass, did I?
Gaeta and Starbuck exchanged a look, Maggie saw from the corner of her eye, but Helo still stared daggers at her. Big, nasty, serrated daggers.
He stood suddenly, his chair toppling over behind him with an unnaturally loud crack and then every eye in the room was on their little table. All conversation ceased and the only sound was the faint strain of a piano from someone’s player. “You frakking bitch.” He punctuated the last word - one she probably deserved even if he was sleeping with the enemy - by throwing his cards at her. It kind of worried her that his voice was so even, that he didn’t yell.
She opened her mouth to say something, whether to apologize or to dig herself in a little deeper she didn’t know, but he didn’t give her the chance. He turned and stalked from the room, left the downed chair where it lay.
“Good going, genius.” Starbuck’s voice was an amazing combination of cutting sarcasm and crushing disappointment, as though she had somehow thought that Helo had been accepted by everyone as a comrade and friend since returning from his brief reassignment to Pegasus. All too brief, Maggie sometimes thought. He’d only been gone for a couple of days before he was back on Galactica’s duty roster; it was easier to forget that there was another copy of Boomer, who had been her friend, on board Galactica when Helo wasn’t around.
The conversations and activity in the room resumed. Maggie slumped into her chair, idly studied Helo’s abandoned cards - he’d been only one card short of full colors. “Okay, maybe I was out of line, but what’s the big deal?”
Starbuck startled her when she stood and walked toward her, anger in her eyes and a little bit of menace in her step. Maggie was embarrassed when she flinched as the other woman bent to right the toppled chair and then pulled it in close. Her whisper was as fierce as her gaze when she said, “The big deal. You want to know what the big deal is?” A glance at Gaeta and he moved to stand behind Starbuck, for all the world like he stood guard in case any of the others in the room came close enough to overhear what she was about to say.
Maggie straightened up in her chair, intending to stand, to leave, but Starbuck’s next words stopped her cold. “Sharon was raped a week ago. Seems that’s a standard method of Cylon interrogation on Pegasus. Helo and Chief Tyrol tried to stop it and Peggy’s Cylon Interrogator was killed.”
Maggie realized that her mouth hung open and she shut it with a snap. “Oh, my gods.” A memory of the Chief and Helo running as if the hounds of hell were after them flashed through her mind. They had been shouting for the people in the corridor to get out of the way. Helo had even touched her shoulder in passing, steadying her after he almost ran her down. She remembered that, at the time, she thought he hadn’t recognized her and she’d wondered what was up.
“They were taken to Pegasus for court-martial. While they were there, they were both beaten pretty badly; I think Helo said he got three broken ribs out of the deal. The only thing that saved him and the Chief from summary execution for that bastard’s death was the Cylons.”
She met Starbuck’s eyes. “The Raptor that was launched to Pegasus…?”
“Was sent to rescue Sharon’s boys.” She sat back in the chair, but still kept her voice low. “We almost went to war with our own kind because two men tried to fight for that ‘Cylon whore.’”
Sharon raped… Helo beaten and almost executed… Gods, no wonder he looks at me with such loathing, the things I’ve said.
Maggie looked up at Starbuck again, and at Gaeta, who divided his attention between Starbuck and herself. No one else paid them any heed and Maggie realized that only Starbuck and Gaeta - and now she - knew what had happened a week ago. “I didn’t know,” she whispered, appalled at what had happened to Sharon, to Helo and the Chief. Appalled by her own insensitivity. “I didn’t know.”
“Well, now you do.” Starbuck stood. “If you ever again say anything like that to him again in my hearing, I’ll put you in the infirmary.”
Maggie swallowed, stood. “Don’t worry.”
She had to find Helo. She needed, if only for her own peace of mind, to make him understand that she truly felt bad for what his Sharon had gone through - no one deserved to be treated like that, not even an enemy.
***
“Helo!” she shouted as she finally caught sight of him. As she had suspected, given what she now knew and the stupid things she’d said, he was on his way to the brig.
At the sound of her voice his shoulders stiffened, but that was the only indication that he’d heard her. He didn’t stop. If anything, he picked up his pace and she did the same, running to overcome his much longer stride. If she was right there in front of him, he couldn’t ignore her…
Maggie touched his sleeve when she was close enough and he did stop, then, and whirled around to face her, clearly still angry. “Leave me the frak alone.” He turned his back on her and started back down the corridor.
“Helo, please! I just want to apologize.”
Again, he stopped. With only a slight turn of his head, he shot over his shoulder, “Why?”
Tentatively, she took a couple of steps toward him. “Starbuck told me everything,” she blurted out. Dammit! she thought and closed her eyes, said a silent prayer to any of the gods who might be listening to help her control her mouth. Helo wasn’t the only person on board who made her lose control like this (Starbuck came to mind), but it was the worst with him.
The air suddenly felt close and she opened her eyes when she realized that Helo had turned and was standing right in front of her. She hadn’t heard him move. “Starbuck told you what?” The look in his eyes was intense and dangerous, but for once the anger there didn’t seem to be directed at Maggie.
“She told me about what happened to Sharon, what happened to you and the Chief.” Helo took a step away from her and raised his hands, locked his fingers behind his head. He didn’t look angry anymore; he looked deflated, and hurt that Starbuck had betrayed his trust. “Helo, I won’t tell anyone else. She was defending you, you and Sharon. I…” She sighed and closed the space between them again, raised a hand to touch his shoulder, but thought better of it, dropped her hand back to her side. “I guess I really didn’t give her much choice.”
He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. She couldn’t read his face, his eyes, and the stray thought ran through her head that if he used that expression playing Triad, he wouldn’t lose so often. “So what, then? You know what happened so she’s suddenly not a ‘Cylon whore?’”
“Oh, gods, Helo.” Maggie heard the almost-whine in her voice and stopped to take a deep breath. He just watched her. “I’m so sorry. My mouth always seems to get me in trouble. Boomer was my friend. When she pulled a gun and shot the Old Man… gods. She was standing right beside me.” Still he watched her, not encouraging, but not discouraging, either. “I just felt… shocked? Betrayed? I guess… Well, I guess I know that your Sharon isn’t the same one, but… I’m worried about you… us all. I mean, if Boomer could turn like that, without any warning…” He hadn’t moved or reacted at all and she didn’t much feel like continuing. “Look, I’m sorry. I never should have said those things about her, okay? It won’t-”
…happen again, she was going to say, but Helo cut her off. “No, you shouldn’t have.” He pushed away from the wall. “I don’t give a frak what you call me, or what you or anyone else on this boat thinks of me, but leave Sharon alone.” The Triad face was gone as he became more agitated. He took a step toward her and Maggie took an involuntary step back. “She’s done nothing but help us since I was stupid enough to bring her back here and yes, I love a toaster, but so what? I didn’t ask for it; it just happened.”
He began to pace back and forth across the corridor and she was reminded of a cougar in a cage. “I’m sick to death of saying the words, but she’s carrying my child. If I didn’t love her, I’d still stay by her side if only for that. I don’t take it lightly. I can’t turn my feelings off and I don’t want to. She’s good and she’s smart and she’s everything I ever wanted.” Helo stopped pacing and looked at Maggie, almost as if he’d forgotten she was there. He didn’t say anything for a second and she wondered if he expected her to agree with him, or something. “If you don’t like it, then that’s just too damn bad.”
Helo turned, then, and walked away. Maggie watched him go, headed to see his pregnant Cylon girlfriend, and she had to wonder, Is he trying to convince me that what he says is true, or himself?
***
Dinner had been wonderful, the best food Maggie had eaten in she didn’t know how long - since long before the destruction of their home worlds, anyway. She sat back in her chair and surveyed the Starlight Lounge; there were people everywhere, drinking at the long bar, sitting at tables chatting and eating, gyrating on the dance floor. If she squinted, she could almost convince herself that it was her favorite haunt, the one on Leonis, which it superficially resembled.
“Damn, that was good,” Louanne said beside her, echoing her own thought. The Viper pilot pushed her empty plate toward the center of the table and leaned her elbows in the resulting clear space, rested her chin on her hands, and looked longingly back and forth between Brendan and the dance floor. Kat’s desire to dance with Hotdog was so transparent, it was almost comical.
Maggie leaned in close and bumped her shoulder against her friend’s arm, whispered, “You’re being too subtle for the poor boy, Lou, he’s never going to ask you to dance.”
Louanne, ravishing in a low-cut red sweater, sighed. “You’re right. I guess I’ll just have to take charge.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Maggie laughed. It felt good, being here with friends, pretending for a little while that they were just normal people out to relax and have a good time instead of humanity’s only defense against an implacable enemy. Shut up, Maggie, she told herself, before you jinx it.
Then, Too late. Across the smoky restaurant/bar, Kara Thrace walked in, and she dragged a seriously reluctant and seriously depressed-looking Helo with her. The earlier conversations Maggie’d had with Starbuck and Helo flitted through her mind and the inroads she’d made toward mellow evaporated. The pair were dressed as civilians, just like Maggie’s little group, if maybe a bit more casual, because they had all discovered long ago that it was so much easier to avoid notice when not in uniform. The grateful people could be just as stressful as the anti-military types.
Louanne smacked Maggie’s arm. “Look what the cat dragged in.” Then she stood and shouted, “Kara! Over here!” Maggie sunk down into her chair and covered her eyes with one hand. At least she didn’t use her call sign… That would’ve been just perfect, letting the other patrons know that they were military. The sudden tension Maggie felt would have ratcheted up at that exponentially.
Peeking from under her hand, Maggie saw Helo try to back out, pull Starbuck toward the bar, but she had hold of his wrist and wouldn’t let go. Instead, she pulled him over to the table in her wake and he had no choice but to go along or make a scene. “Just look at them, Karl. They’ve graduated from nuggets to rooks.” She eyed the detritus of their meal, scattered about the table. “Why, I think they even used silverware instead of their fingers. I’m so proud.” Helo rolled his eyes, dismissing her comment while he surreptitiously tried to pull away again. Rather than letting him go, she just pulled him in closer, her grin widening.
“You two should join us,” Louanne offered. “We’ve eaten already, but there’s plenty of room…”
Starbuck winked. “Not right now, Kat. We’re gonna hit the bar.” She shot a look at her reluctant companion. “If we don’t get a little lubrication first, we’ll just end up bringing the whole party to a crashing halt.”
Helo narrowed his eyes at her, but he still didn’t say anything and they returned to the bar; he’d apparently given up on trying to break free. They talked as they went and Maggie felt a twinge of jealousy at the sight, at the easy way they had with each other.
Louanne also watched the two walk away - probably eyeing Helo’s ass, Maggie thought sourly - then, taking a page from Starbuck’s book, Lou grabbed Brendan by the wrist and dragged him to the dance floor, both of them grinning like loons. In the still-occupied seat on Maggie’s right, Nikos “Rabbit” Soldano was talking to Aaron Kelly about all the things from their previous lives that they missed, but, with the help of the alcohol, their stories got wilder by the minute; she tuned them out. Across from her, Duck, whose real name she could never remember, was twisted around the back of his chair as he spoke to a blonde at the next table.
Across the room at the bar, Helo slammed two shots in quick succession. When he reached for a third, Starbuck stopped him with a hand on his arm and a concerned look on her face, an expression Maggie had never seen from the usually abrasive Thrace. Well, she had maybe seen that look a few weeks ago, when Kat had been taken out of the hangar bay on a stretcher…
Knuckles rapped on the table next to her and Maggie jumped. With a sheepish look, she turned to Kelly. “Sorry. Guess I was zoning. What did you say?”
“Nick and I are gonna hit the bar. You want another one?” He gestured at her nearly empty wineglass.
“Sure. Thank you.” The wine wasn’t all that good, but it was sure better than the Chief’s hooch back home. Huh. When did I start thinking of Galactica as home?
The two passed Helo and Starbuck, who had left the bar, drinks in hand. Starbuck set her drink on the table and Helo pulled out the empty chair directly across from Maggie, but before he could sit, there came a shout from the bar. One of the bartenders waved his arms as he called out, “Ka-ra! Phone call!”
Helo shot her a surprised look. “I didn’t think anyone knew we were here.”
Kara shrugged. “I told Hoshi, in case anyone needed me. I’ll be back.” She speared Maggie with her gaze. “Don’t forget our discussion…”
Maggie rolled her eyes and gave her a sneer, waved her away.
Helo didn’t let it go, though. One eyebrow raised, he asked, “Discussion?”
She felt herself blush. “Oh, you know. This afternoon, after you threw your cards at me?”
He grinned, no doubt at Maggie’s all-too-obvious discomfort. “What’d she say?”
No way was she going to mention that comment about the infirmary. “Oh, nothing much. Just what I told you before. About you and-”
“Hey, Karl, I have to go,” Starbuck interrupted. Maggie jumped; Kara hadn’t been gone long and Maggie hadn’t noticed her return. “You two’ll be okay without me, right?” There was a significant look in Maggie’s direction.
His eyes still on Maggie, Helo said, “I’m a big boy, Kara. I think I can handle Racetrack all by myself.”
“I dunno, Karl. I seem to recall something about you and some guys on Pegasus…”
“There were a bunch of ‘em and they were big. Racetrack’s kinda puny…” A bunch of big guys? Maggie’s eyes drifted to the bruise on his jaw.
Kara squeezed Helo’s shoulder, but her attention was on Maggie. “You play nice. I wasn’t kidding.”
“Go away, Starbuck,” he said, and Maggie shot him a grateful look.
***
Maggie didn’t know how long she and Helo had talked, long enough that they were no longer wary with each other and had begun calling each other Karl and Mags. Long enough that the Starlight’s kitchen had shut down, which left only the bar and the dance floor. There were just as many people as before - if not more - but the lights were dim, the music louder, and the atmosphere which resulted was much more intimate.
Karl had long since shifted into the chair next to her, but now he leaned in close to hear her over the music. “I’m sorry?”
“I said, do you want to dance?” She smiled at him. He had relaxed a bit over the past couple of hours, but he was still tense, still somewhat distracted, and she wanted to make him forget whatever it was that had caused Starbuck to drag him here in the first place.
He shook his head and laughed, a brief sound, but the first one she’d heard all evening. “No, thanks, Mags. I don’t get a lot of practice, so I’d probably just break one of your feet.”
She thought about that. He was a big guy, but not usually clumsy, not that she’d ever noticed. When she looked up to tell him so, she saw that he stared into his glass, watching the dim light as it was refracted by the amber-colored liquor. Again, preoccupied and sad. Instead of telling him that he’d do just fine if he danced with her, she asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
They’d spoken of mostly safe subjects since Starbuck had left them together, things like the rain on Caprica and how he and Starbuck had run into the Caprica Buccaneers. That story had been kind of funny, but even with that one, he’d shied away from bits of it and had changed the subject, she was sure, before he’d reached the end. Since they’d begun talking, not once had he mentioned Boomer.
He looked up at her, but didn’t say anything right away and she thought he was going to shy away again, maybe ask her talk about what? Instead, he surprised her. “After I left you, I went to see Sharon.”
She swirled the dark red wine in her glass. “I figured that’s where you were headed.”
“We argued.”
“Argued?”
“She told me she’d been thinking about a lot of things, that, locked up in a cage, she really had nothing but time to think.” He traced an aimless pattern on the tablecloth, studied the movements of his fingers and Maggie wasn’t sure if he was avoiding eye contact with her or simply lost in the memory. “She said what I have now is no kind of life, dividing my time between visiting her and work, and that she had no right to drag me down like that. That I should forget about her, try to pick up the pieces of my old life.”
He lifted his glass and drank and Maggie’s eyes were drawn to his throat as he swallowed, drawn by the play of the light on his skin as the muscles moved underneath. She dragged her gaze away only to see that he watched her, now, and that the aimless pattern tracing had ceased. “What did you say to that?” She was ridiculously proud of herself that her voice remained steady and she didn’t stammer under the weight of his intense gaze.
A humorless laugh answered her question, then, “That it was a load of crap. That we never should have come back to the Fleet. That none of the awful things that had happened to her would’ve happened if I hadn’t dragged her back here.” More patterns on the table. “Of course, she countered that it had been her choice to come with me and that none of what happened to me on Pegasus would’ve happened if I wasn’t with her.” He downed the rest of his drink and took a deep breath. “She said she didn’t want me killed because of my relationship with her and that she was sick of having the threat of me being spaced held over her head if she didn’t cooperate.”
Maggie held her breath. She didn’t want him to continue, because what she was hearing was horrible. Boomer held in check by threats to Helo’s life? His life threatened because of his relationship with her? But he talked and she listened, because she didn’t know what else she could do to help him.
“She told me she doesn’t want to see me anymore. Doesn’t want to talk to me. I’m supposed to stop thinking about her.” Maggie could see in his eyes that he replayed the whole thing, every bitter word the two had said to each other. “She’s trying to protect me again, just like she did on Caprica, only there really isn’t anything she can do. I don’t think she even understands that I can’t do what she asks. I mean, I know what she is; I didn’t walk into this blindly. Okay, I didn’t know what she was, at first, but then I did and nothing really changed. Every day I wonder what the frak I’m doing, ask myself how I can justify my feelings for her when her fellow Cylons wiped out most of the human race. She may not have participated in genocide directly, but she didn’t try to stop it, either.”
“Karl…”
“Anyway, I had to leave for my shift. When I was off duty, I went back to see her, but I wasn’t allowed in. She’d requested that I be denied access.” He shook his head and Maggie thought she saw the glitter of tears in his eyes, but she couldn’t be sure; his voice didn’t reflect it. “I slammed out of there. I didn’t really know where I was headed, but I ran into Kara. You pretty much know the story from there.”
He offered her a small, sad smile and Maggie thought her heart might just break. She remembered the way he’d been before the Cylons, remembered his easy laughter and ready smile, both of them gone now. She could maybe stand their lack, but not this sadness.
Without a conscious decision to do so, she stood and reached for his hands where they rested on the table, no longer tracing those aimless patterns. She pulled him to his feet and barely noticed that he towered over her. A step toward him brought her close enough that she could feel the heat that radiated from his body through his thin shirt.
A bemused smile on his handsome face, he asked, “What’re you doing, Mags?”
She smiled up at him as she slipped an arm around his waist, felt the roughness of the bandages that helped to stabilize the broken ribs Starbuck had mentioned. “I’m invading your space.” She carefully exerted a tiny bit of pressure and he allowed himself to be led to the dance floor. A haunting melody, slow and hypnotic, had begun to play, one that encouraged slow dances and seduction. “You need some time with no cares, nothing to worry about, nothing to think about, even if it’s only for the space of a song.”
That song was slow and romantic and half of those dancing left to take a break, so there was plenty of space for the two of them to slip into. His arms felt good around her waist as she lifted hers to circle around his shoulders. She rested her cheek against his chest, listened to the steady thump of his heart. It startled her when he rested his chin on the top of her head. Neither of them said a word, just swayed in time to the strains of guitar and piano.
The music ended, but they remained as they were for a long moment after, both reluctant to break the spell and return to the real world. Finally, Karl whispered, “I love her, Mags.” She shifted her head so that she could look up at him. “And I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m a big girl, Karl Agathon. And I don’t need forever; I’ll settle for right now.”
She didn’t know what he might have responded to that, because another song began and Louanne and Brendan were there, dragged them apart to dance with them to the hard driving beat and the moment was lost.
***
Maggie flipped over and punched her pillow into a more comfortable shape, laid her head back down. Through the sliver of space between her privacy curtains, there was just enough light that she could see the dim shape of the racks across from hers. From the faint (and not so faint) sounds she heard, only one of those racks was occupied, but that one held two people.
She couldn’t sleep. Maybe she hadn’t had enough to drink or maybe there were too many thoughts and feelings chasing around inside her head. Or maybe it was Karl in the rack above hers as he tossed and turned, clearly also unable to sleep. Whatever it was, her brain just wouldn’t shut off.
Briefly, snippets of older memories danced through her mind, her grandmother when Maggie’d been a small child, as she held Maggie’s baby brother in her arms and sang him a lullaby; that same little brother, all grown up as he introduced Maggie to his college roommate, Eric, a man who had later become her fiance.
But when she tried to conjure Eric’s face, a man she had once loved but from whom she’d been drifting even before the Cylon attack, the only face she could see was Karl’s. The way he’d looked that afternoon in the corridor, fire in his eyes. Or later, when Starbuck had brought him, the picture of reluctance, to the Starlight Lounge. Or later still, when he’d laughed, however small and bittersweet a thing it had been. And superimposed over them all was the way he’d looked when he’d said he didn’t want to hurt her and she’d known that he felt it too, this attraction.
Above her, Karl shifted again and shortly after she heard the sound of his privacy curtain as he pulled it back. A dark shadow cut off the ambient light through the gap in her own curtains as he climbed down from his rack. Maggie moved her head for a better view and saw him open the hatch and slip silently through it.
On impulse, she threw back her blanket and pulled on a pair of sweats, followed him. She didn’t want to examine too closely why she followed him and so she concentrated instead on keeping him in her sight.
It was very late and they encountered no one as they moved through the big ship. It soon became apparent to Maggie that Karl was headed to the hangar bay and she thought she knew exactly where she’d find him.
Sure enough, a couple of minutes later he slipped into the deserted hangar and then into Raptor 312, which had once been blazoned with the legend “LTJG Sharon ‘Boomer’ Valerii,” but now read “LTJG Margaret ‘Racetrack’ Edmondson.” He didn’t come back out.
Maggie waited, she didn’t know how long. There was no sign of movement in the Raptor and she wondered if maybe he’d simply laid down on the deck inside, having gained some measure of peace from his own memories, and fallen asleep. Finally, she began to move, inexorably drawn to the Raptor and the man inside.
He’d left the hatch open, so it was easy for her to enter. It struck her how different everything looked in downtime, dark and full of secrets. The metal decking was cold beneath her bare feet.
He sat in the pilot’s chair and stared into space, deep in thought or memory, and he was unaware of her presence as she walked softly over to him. She saw that he, too, was barefoot, his right foot resting on the dormant control console. His bare shoulder was smooth and warm under her fingertips as she circled between him and that console. He lifted his eyes to meet hers and she realized that she had been wrong; he had known she was here, that she had followed him, all along and she wondered if that open hatch had been deliberate.
Neither of them spoke as he reached to pull her down into his lap. She cupped his cheek, smoothed her thumb over his lower lip, as she’d wanted to do since forever. His eyes held hers as he opened his mouth and nipped at the pad of her thumb. Then, by mutual if silent agreement, they kissed. His mouth tasted faintly of mint, nothing at all of the liquor he’d been drinking only hours ago, although just as intoxicating.
Maggie melted into him, lost herself in the sensation of his arm supporting her shoulders as he leaned her back, the feel and taste of his tongue, the warmth of his hand as it slid beneath her tank to cup her otherwise bare breast, the soft hairs at the back of his neck as she stroked the skin there.
Her current position didn’t allow her much room to move, not that she minded terribly except that there was little she could do with her hands unless she pushed him away from her, so she did the only thing she could. Gripping the back of his tank, she tugged, the fabric bunching up in her hands until she could pull it over his head, which he helpfully dipped for her when it was clear what she wanted.
Removing his tank forced them to break apart and Maggie’s eyes met Karl’s. She saw mirrored in those beautiful eyes the same hunger she felt, but the intensity of his gaze was too much for her. She broke that contact, pulled away, stood, yanked her own tank over her head then skimmed sweats and underwear over her hips. She stepped out of them and stood before him, naked and vulnerable and filled with need.
His hands gripped tightly the arms of the chair; he looked stunned. The only sound in the close confines of the Raptor was that of their harsh breathing. Then he met her eyes again and the look she saw there now was… scared. She took the two steps that brought her back to him, knelt beside the chair. She wanted this so badly, she wasn’t going to give up now. “Not forever, Karl. Not forever…”
His troubled expression cleared. He stood and pulled her up with him, caressed her arms with hands that seemed to burn. That feverish touch continued over her shoulders, her throat, and when he reached her chin he tilted her head so that she had to look at him again. A faint smile played about his lips. “We can have right now…”
And then she was in his arms. His tongue swept her mouth, the bandage around his ribs abraded her nipples as she lifted her arms to embrace broad shoulders. His hands - those burning hands - cupped her ass and she could feel just how hard he was for her. He took a step and then another, not stopping until he had her pressed against one of the few spots on the bulkhead that wasn’t covered with dials and switches.
The contrast between the Raptor’s cold skin and Karl’s heat made Maggie shiver. And then he made it worse when he stepped away from her, her skin pebbling without the warmth of his body. But it was only to shed the rest of his clothes before returning to her, mouth to mouth, skin to skin, his hands roaming over her, stroking, caressing. He pulled his mouth from hers again, ducked his head, sucked her nipple into his mouth and a spike of pure flame shot through her. She would have collapsed if he hadn’t pinned her to the bulkhead.
He tugged sharply at her nipple and slid a finger into her, stroking. Wanting, needing an entirely different part of him inside her, she closed her fingers around him and squeezed.
A noise from the hangar outside drifted to them, then. It was too early for the next shift, but they definitely weren’t alone in the hangar bay. They both stopped for a split second at the sound, but they were too far gone. With a sound of surrender, Karl shifted his hand from between her legs to glide down to her knee, lifted her leg up to his hip, slammed into her. She bit his arm to keep from crying out.
No longer capable of thought, Maggie abandoned herself to pure sensation as Karl thrust into her. The tide rose between them, stronger with each stroke, until it crashed over her, over him, and she had to cling to him to keep from falling.
Resting her head against his chest, as she had done when they danced, she listened to the rhythm of his heart, racing in time to her own. It was then that she understood that clinging to Karl Agathon wouldn’t, couldn’t prevent her from falling. It was far too late for that.
Feedback is appreciated and adored.
Maybe tonight I can actually get some sleep.