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Entry tags:
bsg fic
Title: Five Times Helo Wonders About Apollo and Starbuck (And One Time He Doesn’t Have To)
Author: Dianora
Prompt(s) used (refer to by number): 3, 4, 5, 10, 11, 16, 21, 23, 29
Spoilers through "The Eye of Jupiter"
Wordcount: ~2,700
Rating: PGish
Notes: Written for the Kara/Lee Cliche-a-thon at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sasa_hq. (Full list of prompts at link.) All cliches are intentional. This time. *g* I wrote this in two days, holy crap. This is a little bit different for me, BSG-wise. Hope someone likes.
1.
“He cares for her,” Sharon says.
Helo looks at Sharon quizzically; for long moments the only sound between them has been the pitter patter of rain against tarp as they rested beneath the soft white moon of Kobol, shoring up for the journey ahead and enjoying their time together out in the open, with no bars between them. Being wet and miserable is nothing new to them; sharing time as impending parents still is.
Now he blinks and wipes moisture from his forehead, realizing he has no idea what Sharon’s talking about. “Who?”
“Captain Adama,” she says. “He cares for Starbuck.”
Helo raises an eyebrow, feels himself crack a grin. “Where do you get that?” He doesn’t know much of Lee Adama beyond what’s he heard about him –- either a snot-nosed example of nepotism or the savior of the fleet, depending on who you talk to. Nearly blowing Sharon’s head off hasn’t exactly endeared the man to him just yet.
Sharon jerks her chin. “Watch them.”
He follows her sightline to where Apollo and Starbuck sit side by side beneath a sheltering tree, talking together quietly. Their shoulders are touching and their hands move almost in unison as they clean their weapons with an ease born of practice. Adama says something that makes Starbuck laugh, and she leans into him for a moment, her head almost resting on his shoulder. Then he says something else and she looks up into his face and their gazes linger for what seems like an oddly long time before they both turn away, looking studiously back down at their guns.
Huh.
“And I think the feeling might be mutual,” Sharon says.
Karl considers this. “Nah,” he says finally. With the speaking of the word his world feels secure again. “Starbuck and that guy? I don’t think so. Besides, she has a thing for Anders, remember?”
Sharon says nothing, just smiles mysteriously, and Helo begins to wonder if somehow a Cylon has a better bead on human behavior then he does.
And then she reaches for his hand to place against her belly and the moment is forgotten.
2.
“Bet’s to you, Helo.”
Helo leans back in his chair and surveys his hand, then eyes his opponents. It’s not a bad hand, but it’s not a great one, either, and when playing strip triad, it’s always better to err on the side of caution. He’s more focused on getting Racetrack out of her pants, anyway – purely for aesthetic reasons, of course, romantically attached as he is at the moment. He shifts in his seat, sucks on his lollipop. “I fold.”
Groans greet him from around the table. “You’re such a baby, Agathon,” Starbuck says. She drains her glass, then looks at Hotdog, who takes the signal to jump up from his seat and get her a refill. Helo averts his gaze from the man’s skinny white chicken legs as he does so. Hotdog’s down to his boxers and Helo keeps hoping the younger man will call it a night.
“Merely judicious,” Karl says, and Kara makes a “good for you for knowing big words” face at him before looking down at her own cards. “Call,” she says, and an impressed sound goes up from the group. Kara’s down to her bra and her pants –- it hasn’t been her best night. She props one bare foot up on Hotdog’s seat, but moves it when he returns with her drink.
“Bet’s to you, Costanza,” she says.
“Oh, I fold,” Hotdog says quickly, and Helo breathes a sigh of relief.
“Me too,” Racetrack says with disgust, slamming her hand down on the table. Helo tries to hide his disappointment.
“Wimps,” snorts Starbuck.
All eyes turn to Apollo, who’s had a decent run so far – the best Helo’s seen him have in the short time they’ve all been back on Galactica, anyway. Karl apparently missed a lot of triad games while he was down on Caprica, many of them with the now-Vice President. A part of him is sorry he missed those days -- not that he’d trade them for anything regardless.
The upshot is that Apollo’s wearing the most clothes of any of them right now, and seems to like it that way.
“What’s it gonna be, Captain?” Kara says into the expectant pause.
Apollo looks down at his hand, then back up, fixing his gaze on Kara. “You’re not playing so hot tonight, Starbuck,” he says, and Helo can’t read the expression on his face.
Starbuck leans back in her chair and squares her shoulders. “Depends on how you look at it, Apollo,” she says, and the challenge in her voice is something Helo recognizes, at least.
Lee dips his head and smiles, laughs softly. “That is true,” he says. “That is true.” He glances at his hand again, then down at what he’s wearing, then up at Kara once more. Their eyes meet and each of them goes very still, suddenly.
Silence falls on the table and Helo wonders wildly if Apollo and Starbuck are even aware that the rest of them are sitting there. He crunches down hard on his lollipop, breaking the quiet.
“Call or fold,” Kara says evenly, her eyes still on Apollo’s.
There’s another pause, then Lee swallows and says, “Call.”
Kara’s chin goes up, and Helo wonders if he’s the only one who can see that she’s nervous. “Right,” she says. She lays her hand down on the table. “Three up.”
Helo hears an intake of air, and looks over at Apollo, whose expression is still inscrutable, though his jaw is working.
“Full colors,” Lee says quietly, displaying his hand with a complete lack of flourish.
There’s a moment of shocked silence, then Hotdog lets out a laugh, which is cut off instantly with one glare from Starbuck.
Kara looks at Lee, then pushes back her chair and stands. Her eyes not leaving the CAG’s face, she undoes her pants and lets them fall to the floor, then steps out of them. She’s wearing black bikini underpants that hug her full hips, the dark material contrasting with the ivory of her skin. Her legs, as Karl’s grandfather used to say, go all the way to the floor.
“Eyes front,” he whispers to Hotdog, who is, as usual, enjoying himself way too much. Then he glances at Apollo, whose eyes are simmering with something that even Karl recognizes as attraction, and something else that he thinks might be anger. This last puzzles him, but then it’s not the first time the CAG’s been a mystery to him.
“Told you you’re not playing so hot tonight,” Lee says, his voice sounding very dry.
She tilts her head, assessing him somehow. “But you seem to like watching me lose, don’t you?”
Lee’s eyes flick from side to side, and he seems to remember where he is, what they’re doing. “Guess it’s not your night,” he says, leaning back and scooping up his cards. “Maybe you’d have better luck against the Vice President.”
Kara stiffens, and Helo can see her shields go up. “Maybe you’re right,” she says, and once again, there’s clearly something Helo’s not getting. Kara grabs her clothes and heads for the exit.
Lee’s face falls, looking like a kid who just realized his dog ran away due to his own negligence. “Kara-–" He lets out a curse, throws down his cards. "Kara, don’t--" But she’s already gone.
Another awkward silence.
“I’m out,” Lee says. He ignores Racetrack’s protests and rises from his chair, his boots slamming against the deck as he makes his exit.
“They are so weird,” Hotdog says.
Helo slaps him upside the head. “They’re still your superior officers,” he says. “Come on, let’s clean up this mess.”
3.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Karl blinks away sleep, taking stock of his surrounding quickly: Night. Rack. Dark. Late.
Sleep good. Awake bad.
“My rack is all the way over…there,” he hears a male voice slur.
What the frak? Helo cranes his ears in the dark, curious who’s making an ass out of himself in the middle of the night.
“All of ten feet, huh?” he hears Kara whisper. “One foot in front of the other, Commander, I think you can handle it.”
“But it’s so comfortable right...here,” the man says, and Helo realizes it’s Apollo. Although he’s probably supposed to call him Commander Adama now. He decides in that moment not to do so until Lee actually takes command of the Pegasus.
“Oh my gods, you’re stinking drunk,” Kara says in disgust.
“My dad gave me a farewell drink -– drinks,” Lee says. “Goodbye talk. Man to man. Father and son. You know, Apollo is the ‘son’ god,” he says, and lets out a drunken snort.
Helo grins. Lee’s not exactly a lightweight, so gods know what the old man was plying him with. Some of Tigh’s secret stash, no doubt.
There’s a rustling inside the rack, and he hears Kara muffle a curse. “You’re -– bigger than you look,” she grunts. “Get the hell off me!”
“C’mon, Kara,” Lee says. “Just wanna sleep.”
“And you have your own rack to do that in,” she says, her voice a harsh whisper. “Or why don’t you go find Dee? I’m sure she’d be happy to help.”
“Kara –- that’s not what I...” Helo can’t hear the rest of the sentence.
Then he hears more movement, the rearrangement of limbs, a resigned sigh. A murmur that he can’t decipher.
And something that could be interpreted as the press of lips against flesh, but he can’t really hear all that well and he isn’t sure and he doesn’t want to go there.
With a stifled yawn, he wonders not for the first time how both of those idiots manage to outrank him, turns over and falls back asleep.
4.
Kara’s brought Anders to the mess with her for dinner, even though it’s practically verboten to bring a civilian in here, but Helo figures that being both a celebrity pyramid player and a resistance fighter makes Samuel T. Anders something of an exception in the fleet. Besides, no one’s about to tell Starbuck who she can and can’t eat with.
Helo’s laughing at a stupid story Sam’s telling, about an overenthusiastic fan flashing the Buccaneers after a game, and realizing but trying not to dwell on the fact that it’s the first time he’s really laughed since Hera died, when he spots Lee on the other side of the mess, sitting by himself, nursing a drink, tracing circles on the tabletop with his finger.
And staring at Kara with undisguised longing in his eyes.
Helo’s laughter dies, is replaced by a frown. If it’s obvious to him that the CAG is acting like a moonstruck schoolboy, it’ll probably be obvious to pretty much everyone else too, and that’s not a good thing. He thinks about catching Lee’s eye to snap him out of it, or to at least motion for him to join them, but before he can make a decision, Lee gets up abruptly and heads for the exit.
Almost as if she feels him moving, Kara glances over her shoulder at just that moment and watches Apollo leave. She dips her head, and Helo’s surprised to see what looks like despair flit across her face. But then it’s gone and she turns back to Sam and smiles widely and Karl figures he’s imagining things.
None of my business anyway, he thinks, and laughs at another of Sam’s jokes.
5.
Galactica is quiet as Helo treads down the corridor, the echo of his boots against the deck seeming unnaturally loud. No one’s passed him for a few minutes now, and even the few people he has seen were subdued, the entire crew somber following Kat’s death earlier that day. Helo himself is just wandering, not thinking about anything in particular. Letting his brain process the day’s events. Wishing he was used to this by now.
He realizes he’s approaching the memorial wall, and wonders if Kat’s picture is up yet. He decides to check; if it’s not there, he’ll make sure that someone takes care of it tomorrow, even if he has to do it himself.
He hears the murmur of voices as he approaches the turn and slows his footsteps, not wanting to intrude on anyone’s grief. A few more cautious steps and the source of the voices comes into view: it’s Kara, and Lee, standing close together, and as Helo watches, Lee takes Kara into his arms, enfolding her in a strong, solid hug.
Lee’s back is to him, and over the CAG’s shoulder Helo can see Kara, her eyes closed, her expression as vulnerable as he’s ever seen it. Lee whispers to her and she nods, biting down on her lower lip.
All three of them stand there for a while, Helo frozen in place, unsure why he’s not moving. Maybe it’s the novelty of seeing Kara allow someone to comfort her; gods know Helo’s tried. Finally the two pilots move apart and the spell is broken. Helo draws in a breath.
Lee reaches up to touch Kara’s face, and Kara smiles at Lee through her tears, and Helo walks away before he can see any more.
He’s already witnessed more than he should.
6.
Helo approaches the officers’ quarters, looking for Kara, when he notices the pair of boots resting just outside the hatch. From within he can hear something that sounds an awful lot like female moaning, and he smothers a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand. Kara and Anders’ intermittent encounters are becoming the stuff of legend on ship. Figuring he’ll catch up with her later, he turns around and starts walking in the other direction, but before he’s reached the end of the corridor he hears the hatch open. He turns back around, a teasing gibe on his lips.
Stops in his tracks when it’s Lee who pokes his head out of the hatch, not Anders.
“Apollo?” he says, and immediately wants to kick himself for saying anything at all.
Lee notices him and freezes for just a second, then relaxes his shoulders and walks toward him with forced casualness.
The major is wearing his boots; the pair outside the hatch must be Kara’s.
“Hey,” Lee says when he reaches him. The muscles in his jaw are jumping. “I was just briefing Kara on protocol for supply runs to the algae planet.”
Helo nods. You’re a terrible liar, man. “Did you finish? Briefing her, I mean.” He has trouble keeping the sarcasm from his voice.
Lee barely skips a beat. “Yeah, if you’re looking for her, she’s all yours.” He runs a hand through his hair, doesn’t meet Helo’s eyes. “Do you know if my father’s in CIC?”
“I just left him there, yeah,” Helo says.
“Thanks,” Lee says, and makes his way past Helo, down the corridor, his spine straight but his fists clenched.
Helo shakes his head and goes to see Starbuck.
“Hey,” Kara says when he steps through the hatch. She’s sitting on her rack, pulling on her boots and doing up the laces. Her hair is mussed and her cheeks are flushed. “What’s going on, Captain Agathon?”
“Just wanted to see if you were up for a workout,” he says. He feels vaguely like an interrogator, though he has no reason to.
Kara smiles. “You know, I’m pretty beat right now, actually,” she says, despite the fact that she seems to be glowing. “Not really up for being your punching bag. Come find me tomorrow instead and I’ll gladly kick your ass.”
Helo looks for signs of guilt on Kara’s face, finds none. “Sure,” he says. “Hey, is everything okay with you?”
She scrunches her eyebrows at him before standing up and opening her locker. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“No reason,” Karl says. It occurs to him that Kara and Lee are his friends, but so are Dee and Sam. The thought burns in his veins. “Just be careful, all right?”
“Sure,” she says, eyeing him like he’s nuts now.
“Good,” he says. “I’ll see you later.”
“Later,” Kara says, not looking up from the contents of her locker.
Helo gives her a nod and steps back through the hatch, headed for his own quarters. He has a sudden need to hold his wife.
End.
Author: Dianora
Prompt(s) used (refer to by number): 3, 4, 5, 10, 11, 16, 21, 23, 29
Spoilers through "The Eye of Jupiter"
Wordcount: ~2,700
Rating: PGish
Notes: Written for the Kara/Lee Cliche-a-thon at
sasa_hq. (Full list of prompts at link.) All cliches are intentional. This time. *g* I wrote this in two days, holy crap. This is a little bit different for me, BSG-wise. Hope someone likes.1.
“He cares for her,” Sharon says.
Helo looks at Sharon quizzically; for long moments the only sound between them has been the pitter patter of rain against tarp as they rested beneath the soft white moon of Kobol, shoring up for the journey ahead and enjoying their time together out in the open, with no bars between them. Being wet and miserable is nothing new to them; sharing time as impending parents still is.
Now he blinks and wipes moisture from his forehead, realizing he has no idea what Sharon’s talking about. “Who?”
“Captain Adama,” she says. “He cares for Starbuck.”
Helo raises an eyebrow, feels himself crack a grin. “Where do you get that?” He doesn’t know much of Lee Adama beyond what’s he heard about him –- either a snot-nosed example of nepotism or the savior of the fleet, depending on who you talk to. Nearly blowing Sharon’s head off hasn’t exactly endeared the man to him just yet.
Sharon jerks her chin. “Watch them.”
He follows her sightline to where Apollo and Starbuck sit side by side beneath a sheltering tree, talking together quietly. Their shoulders are touching and their hands move almost in unison as they clean their weapons with an ease born of practice. Adama says something that makes Starbuck laugh, and she leans into him for a moment, her head almost resting on his shoulder. Then he says something else and she looks up into his face and their gazes linger for what seems like an oddly long time before they both turn away, looking studiously back down at their guns.
Huh.
“And I think the feeling might be mutual,” Sharon says.
Karl considers this. “Nah,” he says finally. With the speaking of the word his world feels secure again. “Starbuck and that guy? I don’t think so. Besides, she has a thing for Anders, remember?”
Sharon says nothing, just smiles mysteriously, and Helo begins to wonder if somehow a Cylon has a better bead on human behavior then he does.
And then she reaches for his hand to place against her belly and the moment is forgotten.
2.
“Bet’s to you, Helo.”
Helo leans back in his chair and surveys his hand, then eyes his opponents. It’s not a bad hand, but it’s not a great one, either, and when playing strip triad, it’s always better to err on the side of caution. He’s more focused on getting Racetrack out of her pants, anyway – purely for aesthetic reasons, of course, romantically attached as he is at the moment. He shifts in his seat, sucks on his lollipop. “I fold.”
Groans greet him from around the table. “You’re such a baby, Agathon,” Starbuck says. She drains her glass, then looks at Hotdog, who takes the signal to jump up from his seat and get her a refill. Helo averts his gaze from the man’s skinny white chicken legs as he does so. Hotdog’s down to his boxers and Helo keeps hoping the younger man will call it a night.
“Merely judicious,” Karl says, and Kara makes a “good for you for knowing big words” face at him before looking down at her own cards. “Call,” she says, and an impressed sound goes up from the group. Kara’s down to her bra and her pants –- it hasn’t been her best night. She props one bare foot up on Hotdog’s seat, but moves it when he returns with her drink.
“Bet’s to you, Costanza,” she says.
“Oh, I fold,” Hotdog says quickly, and Helo breathes a sigh of relief.
“Me too,” Racetrack says with disgust, slamming her hand down on the table. Helo tries to hide his disappointment.
“Wimps,” snorts Starbuck.
All eyes turn to Apollo, who’s had a decent run so far – the best Helo’s seen him have in the short time they’ve all been back on Galactica, anyway. Karl apparently missed a lot of triad games while he was down on Caprica, many of them with the now-Vice President. A part of him is sorry he missed those days -- not that he’d trade them for anything regardless.
The upshot is that Apollo’s wearing the most clothes of any of them right now, and seems to like it that way.
“What’s it gonna be, Captain?” Kara says into the expectant pause.
Apollo looks down at his hand, then back up, fixing his gaze on Kara. “You’re not playing so hot tonight, Starbuck,” he says, and Helo can’t read the expression on his face.
Starbuck leans back in her chair and squares her shoulders. “Depends on how you look at it, Apollo,” she says, and the challenge in her voice is something Helo recognizes, at least.
Lee dips his head and smiles, laughs softly. “That is true,” he says. “That is true.” He glances at his hand again, then down at what he’s wearing, then up at Kara once more. Their eyes meet and each of them goes very still, suddenly.
Silence falls on the table and Helo wonders wildly if Apollo and Starbuck are even aware that the rest of them are sitting there. He crunches down hard on his lollipop, breaking the quiet.
“Call or fold,” Kara says evenly, her eyes still on Apollo’s.
There’s another pause, then Lee swallows and says, “Call.”
Kara’s chin goes up, and Helo wonders if he’s the only one who can see that she’s nervous. “Right,” she says. She lays her hand down on the table. “Three up.”
Helo hears an intake of air, and looks over at Apollo, whose expression is still inscrutable, though his jaw is working.
“Full colors,” Lee says quietly, displaying his hand with a complete lack of flourish.
There’s a moment of shocked silence, then Hotdog lets out a laugh, which is cut off instantly with one glare from Starbuck.
Kara looks at Lee, then pushes back her chair and stands. Her eyes not leaving the CAG’s face, she undoes her pants and lets them fall to the floor, then steps out of them. She’s wearing black bikini underpants that hug her full hips, the dark material contrasting with the ivory of her skin. Her legs, as Karl’s grandfather used to say, go all the way to the floor.
“Eyes front,” he whispers to Hotdog, who is, as usual, enjoying himself way too much. Then he glances at Apollo, whose eyes are simmering with something that even Karl recognizes as attraction, and something else that he thinks might be anger. This last puzzles him, but then it’s not the first time the CAG’s been a mystery to him.
“Told you you’re not playing so hot tonight,” Lee says, his voice sounding very dry.
She tilts her head, assessing him somehow. “But you seem to like watching me lose, don’t you?”
Lee’s eyes flick from side to side, and he seems to remember where he is, what they’re doing. “Guess it’s not your night,” he says, leaning back and scooping up his cards. “Maybe you’d have better luck against the Vice President.”
Kara stiffens, and Helo can see her shields go up. “Maybe you’re right,” she says, and once again, there’s clearly something Helo’s not getting. Kara grabs her clothes and heads for the exit.
Lee’s face falls, looking like a kid who just realized his dog ran away due to his own negligence. “Kara-–" He lets out a curse, throws down his cards. "Kara, don’t--" But she’s already gone.
Another awkward silence.
“I’m out,” Lee says. He ignores Racetrack’s protests and rises from his chair, his boots slamming against the deck as he makes his exit.
“They are so weird,” Hotdog says.
Helo slaps him upside the head. “They’re still your superior officers,” he says. “Come on, let’s clean up this mess.”
3.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Karl blinks away sleep, taking stock of his surrounding quickly: Night. Rack. Dark. Late.
Sleep good. Awake bad.
“My rack is all the way over…there,” he hears a male voice slur.
What the frak? Helo cranes his ears in the dark, curious who’s making an ass out of himself in the middle of the night.
“All of ten feet, huh?” he hears Kara whisper. “One foot in front of the other, Commander, I think you can handle it.”
“But it’s so comfortable right...here,” the man says, and Helo realizes it’s Apollo. Although he’s probably supposed to call him Commander Adama now. He decides in that moment not to do so until Lee actually takes command of the Pegasus.
“Oh my gods, you’re stinking drunk,” Kara says in disgust.
“My dad gave me a farewell drink -– drinks,” Lee says. “Goodbye talk. Man to man. Father and son. You know, Apollo is the ‘son’ god,” he says, and lets out a drunken snort.
Helo grins. Lee’s not exactly a lightweight, so gods know what the old man was plying him with. Some of Tigh’s secret stash, no doubt.
There’s a rustling inside the rack, and he hears Kara muffle a curse. “You’re -– bigger than you look,” she grunts. “Get the hell off me!”
“C’mon, Kara,” Lee says. “Just wanna sleep.”
“And you have your own rack to do that in,” she says, her voice a harsh whisper. “Or why don’t you go find Dee? I’m sure she’d be happy to help.”
“Kara –- that’s not what I...” Helo can’t hear the rest of the sentence.
Then he hears more movement, the rearrangement of limbs, a resigned sigh. A murmur that he can’t decipher.
And something that could be interpreted as the press of lips against flesh, but he can’t really hear all that well and he isn’t sure and he doesn’t want to go there.
With a stifled yawn, he wonders not for the first time how both of those idiots manage to outrank him, turns over and falls back asleep.
4.
Kara’s brought Anders to the mess with her for dinner, even though it’s practically verboten to bring a civilian in here, but Helo figures that being both a celebrity pyramid player and a resistance fighter makes Samuel T. Anders something of an exception in the fleet. Besides, no one’s about to tell Starbuck who she can and can’t eat with.
Helo’s laughing at a stupid story Sam’s telling, about an overenthusiastic fan flashing the Buccaneers after a game, and realizing but trying not to dwell on the fact that it’s the first time he’s really laughed since Hera died, when he spots Lee on the other side of the mess, sitting by himself, nursing a drink, tracing circles on the tabletop with his finger.
And staring at Kara with undisguised longing in his eyes.
Helo’s laughter dies, is replaced by a frown. If it’s obvious to him that the CAG is acting like a moonstruck schoolboy, it’ll probably be obvious to pretty much everyone else too, and that’s not a good thing. He thinks about catching Lee’s eye to snap him out of it, or to at least motion for him to join them, but before he can make a decision, Lee gets up abruptly and heads for the exit.
Almost as if she feels him moving, Kara glances over her shoulder at just that moment and watches Apollo leave. She dips her head, and Helo’s surprised to see what looks like despair flit across her face. But then it’s gone and she turns back to Sam and smiles widely and Karl figures he’s imagining things.
None of my business anyway, he thinks, and laughs at another of Sam’s jokes.
5.
Galactica is quiet as Helo treads down the corridor, the echo of his boots against the deck seeming unnaturally loud. No one’s passed him for a few minutes now, and even the few people he has seen were subdued, the entire crew somber following Kat’s death earlier that day. Helo himself is just wandering, not thinking about anything in particular. Letting his brain process the day’s events. Wishing he was used to this by now.
He realizes he’s approaching the memorial wall, and wonders if Kat’s picture is up yet. He decides to check; if it’s not there, he’ll make sure that someone takes care of it tomorrow, even if he has to do it himself.
He hears the murmur of voices as he approaches the turn and slows his footsteps, not wanting to intrude on anyone’s grief. A few more cautious steps and the source of the voices comes into view: it’s Kara, and Lee, standing close together, and as Helo watches, Lee takes Kara into his arms, enfolding her in a strong, solid hug.
Lee’s back is to him, and over the CAG’s shoulder Helo can see Kara, her eyes closed, her expression as vulnerable as he’s ever seen it. Lee whispers to her and she nods, biting down on her lower lip.
All three of them stand there for a while, Helo frozen in place, unsure why he’s not moving. Maybe it’s the novelty of seeing Kara allow someone to comfort her; gods know Helo’s tried. Finally the two pilots move apart and the spell is broken. Helo draws in a breath.
Lee reaches up to touch Kara’s face, and Kara smiles at Lee through her tears, and Helo walks away before he can see any more.
He’s already witnessed more than he should.
6.
Helo approaches the officers’ quarters, looking for Kara, when he notices the pair of boots resting just outside the hatch. From within he can hear something that sounds an awful lot like female moaning, and he smothers a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand. Kara and Anders’ intermittent encounters are becoming the stuff of legend on ship. Figuring he’ll catch up with her later, he turns around and starts walking in the other direction, but before he’s reached the end of the corridor he hears the hatch open. He turns back around, a teasing gibe on his lips.
Stops in his tracks when it’s Lee who pokes his head out of the hatch, not Anders.
“Apollo?” he says, and immediately wants to kick himself for saying anything at all.
Lee notices him and freezes for just a second, then relaxes his shoulders and walks toward him with forced casualness.
The major is wearing his boots; the pair outside the hatch must be Kara’s.
“Hey,” Lee says when he reaches him. The muscles in his jaw are jumping. “I was just briefing Kara on protocol for supply runs to the algae planet.”
Helo nods. You’re a terrible liar, man. “Did you finish? Briefing her, I mean.” He has trouble keeping the sarcasm from his voice.
Lee barely skips a beat. “Yeah, if you’re looking for her, she’s all yours.” He runs a hand through his hair, doesn’t meet Helo’s eyes. “Do you know if my father’s in CIC?”
“I just left him there, yeah,” Helo says.
“Thanks,” Lee says, and makes his way past Helo, down the corridor, his spine straight but his fists clenched.
Helo shakes his head and goes to see Starbuck.
“Hey,” Kara says when he steps through the hatch. She’s sitting on her rack, pulling on her boots and doing up the laces. Her hair is mussed and her cheeks are flushed. “What’s going on, Captain Agathon?”
“Just wanted to see if you were up for a workout,” he says. He feels vaguely like an interrogator, though he has no reason to.
Kara smiles. “You know, I’m pretty beat right now, actually,” she says, despite the fact that she seems to be glowing. “Not really up for being your punching bag. Come find me tomorrow instead and I’ll gladly kick your ass.”
Helo looks for signs of guilt on Kara’s face, finds none. “Sure,” he says. “Hey, is everything okay with you?”
She scrunches her eyebrows at him before standing up and opening her locker. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“No reason,” Karl says. It occurs to him that Kara and Lee are his friends, but so are Dee and Sam. The thought burns in his veins. “Just be careful, all right?”
“Sure,” she says, eyeing him like he’s nuts now.
“Good,” he says. “I’ll see you later.”
“Later,” Kara says, not looking up from the contents of her locker.
Helo gives her a nod and steps back through the hatch, headed for his own quarters. He has a sudden need to hold his wife.
End.