Dark Days of Apollo

Part Seven: The Final Nail
Word Count: 7,336
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I can't own anything. The pygmies and debt collectors own me. Well, I created Jitterbug, and I like her. She's mine, and I'm keeping her.
Summary: The Cylons believe that God has a plan. There are others who believe the Gods have a plan. And prophecy never lies, right?
Pairings: Lee/Kara
Author's Note: Again with the fics started in mid season 2. This is actually one of my first fanfic stories, my first BSG fic, actually. I held it back because I...have issues. Make of this what you will.

This AU springboards off the end of Flight of the Phoenix. Darned if that isn't my happy place when it comes to BSG. :P

New section, finally. But if anyone was expecting bright and happy at last, they were reading the wrong story. :P

The Final Nail

“Here's your clipboard, sir,” Jitterbug said, holding it out to Kara.

Kara took it with a raised eyebrow. She hadn't actually expected Jitterbug to get the clipboard. Everyone knew how she felt about people touching her stuff. Even if she asked them to get something, most people were too scared to do it. She had thought Jitterbug was one of them. That was the point. Kara had just wanted to get rid of Jitterbug for a few minutes. Hours, really, before the girl was brave enough to return without the clipboard. Or so she had planned.

Jitterbug smiled at Kara's confusion. “Captain Adama got it for me. I figured that you really didn't want me to touch your stuff, but since it was him... I thought that would be acceptable, sir.”

Captain Adama got it for me. Oh, frak. Lee had been in her locker. Please, lords, he didn't find the damned sweatshirt. She did not want him to know that she had it, though she wasn't sure what she was going to do tonight, because Lee would be back in their quarters. She knew that she couldn't sleep without the frakking thing. She'd tried. She just had to hope that he wouldn't notice.

“Sir?” Jitterbug's voice interrupted Kara's thoughts. “I know it's not my place, but... I... I'm worried about Captain Adama. He's not himself.”

“What?” Kara asked. She was immediately focused on what Jitterbug was saying. Normally, Kara did her best to zone the fanatic out. But not this time. It involved Lee.

“He was not... well. Maybe I'm wrong. I don't know him,” Jitterbug's expression was innocent, but Kara swore that she was being emotionally blackmailed into going to see Lee. Still, her time with the nuggets was over. Right now, she'd be in paperwork hell, but they'd given that to Lee along with a shift in the CIC. It was too much, in Kara's opinion. Sure, the old Lee would rather work himself to death than deal with any of his issues, but this wasn't the old Lee. This Lee was traumatized, and his work was a big part of that trauma. The Cylons had gone to great lengths to destroy his belief in his career. She had seen him flinch when he was addressed by his rank.

Kara didn't realize that she'd already started walking away from the briefing room until she was out in the corridor. She went down to the CAG's office and knocked on the hatch. That was Lee. He liked to work alone. He would practically barricade himself in that office.

She heard sound of shuffling. “Frak. Ow.”

“Lee? You okay in there?” she couldn't help but ask. She knew he didn't want her to ask, but she was worried about him. She didn't want to be, but she was.

“Yes, damn it,” Lee cursed again. She opened the hatch. Lee was on the ground, rubbing his shin like a petulant child. She couldn't help herself again. This time, she just had to laugh. He glared at her. “Frak you. Why'd you have to move the desk? Every damn time I try to get up, I hit my shin.”

“So move it back,” she said with a grin. Gods, the man was impossible. The desk was bolted to the deck just like everything else on the ship. He was just clumsy and too stubborn to admit it.

“Yeah, when Tyrol has a few spare hours, I'll ask him to unbolt my desk and move it two inches to the left,” Lee scoffed. He shook his head. “It's me that's screwed up, not the desk. What do you want, Starbuck?”

She shrugged. What did she want? Plenty of things that she couldn't have. Right now, she'd settle for being with Lee. “Oh, I remembered that you got saddled with my paperwork mess, and I thought it was only fair that I help you since I didn't get it done yesterday.”

He glanced at the pile dominating the desk. “So there is a reason that it's so huge. I thought I had just forgotten how it really was. No, it's okay. I don't need help.”

“Too bad,” she smirked at him, sprawling in the chair across from him. “Because I'm not leaving. You might as well put me to work, Lee. You know how much I annoy you when you're doing paperwork.”

Lee closed his eyes, cursing to himself. She smiled. He was so frakking adorable when he did that. She stopped herself. She was just here to check on her friend and help him with paperwork that she should have done. She was not here to indulge in any fantasies about him. She'd gotten over that. She had. Frak.

She grabbed a stack of papers from the desk and flipped the first one over. Her stint as CAG had made her responsible. She laughed. She never thought she'd see the day.

He stared at her. “What?”

She realized that he must have thought that she was laughing at him. “Nothing. I've just turned responsible.”

“You?” he asked, eyes wide, with an unbelievable smile. “Gods forbid. That's scary.”

He dreamt about Kara. He didn't want to, but he did anyways. Every night. Or every time that he lost consciousness, that was probably a more accurate way to say it. He had done it the first time the Cylons knocked him out, and like a curse, he continued to do it. Sometimes he just remembered; sometimes he really dreamed, impossible things that would never come true. They couldn't come true. He knew it. Kara didn't love him. She didn't want him like that. He would always be her friend, her CAG, Zak's brother, but nothing more. He knew that.

Which was why the dreams hurt so frakking much. What he dreamed was so perfect, everything that he wanted. What he had was nothing like it, never would be. Admittedly, it was worse waking up to Cylon torture, but that was over now. He was back—he was starting to believe it—no more Cylons.

Well, if you didn't count the Sharon prisoner or the ones in his head.

He had been awake for a while now, staring at the bunk about him. He didn't know when he went from awake to asleep, but it was sudden and horrible. The first thing he noticed was the smell.

Oh, frak, I'm back, aren't I? Frak. Frak...

They don't tie him up. They don't have to. He can't move, not after what they've done to him. He can barely breathe, his hand is broken, and his leg is still bleeding. He is in so much pain that he can't see straight, and that's when he sees her. Boomer. She's got the knife, and he's scared, but he can't show it. He has to be strong when he is weak.

She asks him about his brother. They want him to acknowledge that he has resented his brother all along, resented that Zak could be a child when Lee was forced to be a man. Lee grew up too soon. Zak didn't. But Lee didn't blame his brother for that. Or so he had thought until Boomer and that knife...

Someone was shaking him. Kara. Gods, why the frak did it always have to be her? “Lee, Lee, wake up.”

His eyes opened, and he realized that he was back on Galactica, in the senior officer's quarters. They were not alone, either. He had woken up the entire room, and they were all watching him. Frak. He had fallen out of his bunk, and he hadn't even felt it. He could only feel the eyes of everyone in the bunk room on him. He shoved Kara out of the way and stalked out of the room.

He didn't know where he was going until he got there. Yeah, he had ended up on the hanger deck last time, but he had a different purpose then. He was checking on his ship. Right now, he had one thought in mind.

Oblivion. And he wasn't the only one who had it. Helo was sitting next to the chief's still, glass in hand. “You going to report me, Captain?”

“Don't call me 'captain,'” Lee spat angrily as he took a seat on the floor next to Helo, who looked startled. “And don't call me 'Apollo,' either. Just hand me some of that and shut up.”

Helo handed Lee a glass. Lee took it as a shot, though he knew better than to do it with the chief's brew. But all he wanted now was to forget. He coughed a bit and passed the empty glass back to Helo. The ECO refilled it. “Bad night.”

Lee took the glass and raised it in a toast. “To Cylon mind fraks.”

Helo smiled, returning the toast and taking a swig. He cleared his throat and repeated, “Bad night?”

Lee closed his eyes. “Frak, yes.”

Helo laughed. Lee opened his eyes and turned to look at him. Helo shrugged. “Sorry, Apollo. It's just funny hearing you say frak.”

Lee downed more of the chief's brew. He still felt—felt every damn thing. And sooner or later Kara would find him. He knew that she would. She was always around these days. Lee shoved his glass back at Helo. “More. And remember what I said. No Apollo.”

“Sorry,” Helo said, giving Lee another refill. “I just don't know how to—“

“Lee. Call me Lee. If you call me captain, sir, Apollo, or even Adama I will frakking kill you,” Lee warned him. Helo laughed again, but Lee didn't join him. It was scary, but he wasn't kidding. He never wanted to be called any of those things again. He drank some more. It should be affecting him by now. The chief's brew was strong stuff. He felt fine. “Frak. Maybe I am a Cylon. Helo, do Cylons get drunk? Can they, I mean?”

Helo stared at him. “What?”

“Do Cylons get drunk?” Lee didn't like repeating himself. Helo got drunk. That much Lee could attest to, but he had a far more urgent question to answer.

“Lee,” Helo drew out the name slowly, “do you really think that you're a Cylon?”

“That's the problem,” Lee answered, finishing his drink. “I don't know.”

“Thank you for seeing me, Madam President,” the young pilot said as she came into Laura's office. She was tired, after a long day with the Quorum, and yet she had felt it necessary to honor this appointment. She could not turn away the young woman who had been shown in by Billy, as she had first intended. There was something about her, and it was not anything physical—indeed, Laura had been surprised to see that this was the raptor pilot that she had heard over the wireless; she seemed too young and too small—but still, something about Jitterbug was compelling.

“Yes, of course,” Laura murmured, directing Jitterbug to a chair. “I have to say, it isn't often that people request a private meeting, and I don't often grant them. I'm surprised I did in this case, to tell you the truth.”

“It was the will of the Gods,” Jitterbug stated calmly.

Laura blinked. She had heard such conviction and faith before, from the voice on the wireless, but seeing it was another matter. “I heard you were from Gemenon, Lieutenant, but—“

“I am considered a fanatic, Madam President. And it is probably quite true. Nevertheless, the gods have taken an interest in these times. Prophecy is being fulfilled. Do you doubt this?” Jitterbug asked. Laura looked at her. How odd. The name did not fit the woman who sat there. And Laura suspected that she knew that as well.

“I have come to believe in Pythia,” Laura agreed slowly. “I believe that I am the dying leader.”

“And you will lead us to Earth?” Jitterbug's mouth twisted into a smile, and she laughed a little. “Pythia was but one oracle. I doubt you have heard of the others, the least among them being Alastrina.”

Alastrina, Alastrina... Why did that name seem so familiar? Elosha must have mentioned it once. Yes, she had, and she had scoffed at it. Such followers are outcasts even among the zealots, Elosha had said. There is no way that such events could occur. Laura looked over at her guest. “You believe in Alastrina's prophecy, Lieutenant Trip?”

“One cannot deny a prophecy when it calls you, Madam President. You could not deny Pythia. I cannot deny Alastrina. I am the guide. The Avatar has risen from the ashes,” Jitterbug folded her hands and lowered her head. “You must be prepared for what is to come.”

Laura looked at the other woman and shuddered. She couldn't help it. “Who are you?”

“I am the guide, as I have already told you,” Jitterbug insisted. “I always was. They told me not to look for significance in my names, but Egeria Apollonia? No, there is no escaping from that. The damage is done. I fill a role, as I must. I face destiny, as I must. You must do so as well. When I say that the Avatar has risen, do you know what I mean?”

Laura nodded, swallowing hard. “Apollo. Captain Adama.”

She wasn't sure where that sudden conviction had come from. It seemed foreign, alien, and yet she had never been more sure of anything in her life. She watched, hesitant, and the other woman nodded sadly. She took out a piece of paper and handed it across the desk. “The prophecy of Alastrina can only be shared with those the Avatar trusts. I know that you are high in his regard. I pray you do not fail him, and that this does not come to pass.”

Laura looked down at the paper she held in her trembling hands. She didn't dare read it. “I don't want to believe you. To believe any of it.”

“None of us have a choice, Madam President,” Jitterbug answered. “Least of all him.”

Lee Adama would have the whole ship talking again. It wasn't bad enough that he woke the whole squad with his screams, but he came back to the quarters completely drunk. Or, rather, Helo dragged him back to his bunk. Lee was definitely drunk. He smelled like the chief's infamous brew, and he was singing a childish rhyme to himself. Kara knew that one. Zak used to sing it. He said that he would teach it to their children one day.

What he had failed to mention was that his brother had taught it to him and that it would nearly break her heart to hear Lee teaching it to Helo, who had somehow become Zak in Lee's confused mind.

As soon as Lee was in his bunk, Kara dragged Helo outside. “What the frak were you thinking, Helo? Lee shouldn't be drinking. He—“

“He thinks he's a Cylon,” Helo interrupted. The words took the fight out of her. She stared at Helo. Lee thought he was a Cylon? It was frakked up beyond all belief. Lee was not a Cylon. He couldn't be. She would know. “Actually, I think it's more that he hates himself so much that he wishes he was a Cylon.”

Kara felt herself clenching her fist. “Explain that. Now.”

Helo shook his head. “I can't, Starbuck. He wasn't making any sense long before he mistook me for his brother. He was...angry, very angry. Mostly at himself. Called himself a frak-up... seems the Cylons forced him to admit that her resented being the perfect soldier and never a child, that he resented his brother being that child...then the alcohol kicked in, and he didn't know where he was.”

“Frak,” Kara said, closing her eyes. “I knew they were asking too much of him. It was too soon.”

Helo nodded. “Look, Kara, I've got to hit my rack. I have early CAP...with Jitterbug.”

“You're just too nice, Helo. That's why you get all the crap assignments,” Kara told him as she went into the bunk room. Lee had passed out, but he wasn't going to stay that way for long if the twitching in his hand was any indication. She knew most of the pilots trying to sleep had early CAP, including her. There wasn't much else to be done, or so she told herself as she pushed Lee over and crawled into the bunk.

She twined her fingers in his. “It's okay, Lee. I'm here.”

He grunted, but he rolled over and snuggled close to her. His breath stank, but she didn't care. She never imagined that she'd be snuggling with Lee Adama. Well, okay, maybe she had imagined snuggling with him. She just never thought that she'd be doing it her lifetime. She leaned into Lee's shoulder. It was so comfortable here. Having him next to her was so much better than any frakking sweatshirt.

Oh, frak. She was still wearing his frakking sweatshirt. He'd gone to bed before her, before he'd woken up screaming, and she'd figured that she was safe enough wearing it. She'd gotten lucky—when Lee had his episode earlier, he had been so focused on getting out of the room that he hadn't noticed. But he was probably going to notice when he woke up, and she would have to explain not only what she was doing in his bunk, but why she was wearing his sweatshirt, too. Frak.

She'd deal with it in the morning. Right now, she couldn't resist the steady rhythm of Lee's breathing. It was soothing, and she was getting damn sleepy. She had wanted to make him feel secure, but she was the one who was secure.

He was dreaming again. He had opened his eyes, thought he was awake, but he couldn't be. Kara was not asleep in his bed. She definitely wasn't curled in his arms the way that he had imagined her being more than he cared to admit. He had to be dreaming. Still, if this was a dream, then touching her couldn't hurt. He couldn't use his right hand—she was laying on his arm—but he put his left hand to her face, his fingertips, just outside the bandage, able to caress her skin. He brushed the loose hair off her face. She was so beautiful.

She stirred. He stiffened and took his hand away. Frak. What if this wasn't a dream? He was still trying to handle that revelation when her eyes opened. Okay, so, not a dream. Frak.

“Hey,” she said, smiling at him.

“Hey, yourself,” he answered, surprised that his voice wasn't shaky. She was fully dressed, so nothing had happened. Nothing had happened, but she was in his bed. The thought shook him. “Did I miss something?”

“Oh, I just thought you'd be less likely to fall out of your rank this way,” she teased, still smiling at him. He hated that smile. It was the smile that made him fall in love with her.

He tensed. “Don't you have a CAP to go on?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, stretching with a yawn. Oh, gods, he thought, don't do that, Kara, please. “And I think you have a shift in the CIC.”

He nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak. She was in his bed, still lying on top of his arm, and he was fighting an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. This was Kara. He would frak everything up if he kissed her. “I do. So you'd better get out of my bed and let me get dressed.”

“Oh, Lee, come on,” Kara protested, still mostly asleep. Her voice in this state should be illegal. Gods, what it did to him... “Five more minutes.”

“Out. Now. Before I shove you out,” he told her.

“Frak, Lee, you're mean when you're hungover,” she muttered as she rolled over and climbed out of his bunk. He heard her going to her locker and forced himself to stare at the top of his bunk and not look at her. He wanted to, wanted to see her so desperately that it didn't seem like an exaggeration to say he would die from it. He knew it was and that he wouldn't die from it.

The hangover, on the other hand, was another story. Waking up next to Kara had pushed his awareness of his headache to the back of his mind, but now that she was gone, it was claiming his attention. And, frak, it hurt. He knew better than to ask Cottle for a pain killer, but he didn't know how he was going to get through his shift in the CIC with his head throbbing so badly. Muttering curses to himself, he got out of his rack. Kara had already changed into her flight suit, which was a small blessing. He went to his locker and took out his uniform. He didn't want to wear it, but he didn't have a choice.

He looked at Kara, who smiled at him. He didn't know she could do it, pretend that her presence in his bed was nothing. Maybe it was to her, but it sure wasn't to him. He loved her. He didn't want her sharing his bed out of an obligation to keep him quiet or out of friendship.

He yanked his uniform on and buttoned it up. He was glad that he actually had some place to be. Otherwise, he didn't know how he would get through this day.

“You want to make a lot of money, Helo?”

Helo looked up at Jitterbug, frowning. That was not the type of thing he would have expected her to say. Ever. She was too pure, too virtuous for that. He should be seeing Starbuck, not that he would because she spent all her time with Apollo or doing her job, the job that really took both her and Apollo to do. Gods, if they could just understand that they made a better team together than they would ever be apart.

Helo shook it off and blinked, looking at Jitterbug again. “What did you just ask me?”

“I asked if you wanted to make a lot of money. Or contraband as the case may be,” Jitterbug answered. She walked across the room, her footfall as soft as a cat's. She was something else. Helo didn't agree with the others that thought that she was crazy or worse, but she was definitely unique.

“You mean, you're going to tell me what you know about Captain Adama's call sign?”

“I am about to betray a confidence for what I hope is the greater good,” she corrected. “I do wish that the Gods would have been slightly more specific when they said what was going to happen. Prophecy is vague at best, and a guide is an interpreter, but I could be making a mistake. Lots of mistakes.”

Helo frowned. “So you telling me how Apollo got his call sign was prophesied?”

“No,” Jitterbug shook her head. “Do not bother trying to understand, Helo. That is something, I fear, only the Gods can do.”

“Okay,” Helo agreed. He pointed to the chair across from him. “Let's hear this story.”

Jitterbug sat down in the chair and leaned across the table. “The point of me telling you this is that I want it to spread across the ship and the Fleet.”

“What am I, some sort of gossip?” Helo demanded, taking out his sucker. He pointed it at her. “Look, just because I tell you stuff doesn't mean I'm some kind of... I only tell you stuff because no one else will.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, and Helo wondered if there really was something wrong with her head. She was... weird. “But I only meant that you will have to retell the story for verification, and that you should do so in front of a large audience, who will, in turn, circulate it further.”

“Oh.” He popped the sucker back in his mouth and waited for her to go on. There was no sense in trying to argue with Jitterbug. He always came out on the losing side, completely confused.

“How does one begin?” she reached up to fiddle with a chain around her neck. “He gave me this, years ago, in the hospital... Even then, he carried such a burden, such sadness in his eyes. At any rate, I remember him as one of the nice ones, and there were many that were not so nice. The beliefs I hold are not popular, and even on Gemenon, we were outcasts, ridiculed. When I was perhaps ten, the elders decided that we should move from Gemenon to the obscurity of a large city, and so we moved on to a larger city, purchased a filthy tenement building and restored it to some form of order, and we made it our community. We had settled there in peace.

“Across from our hovel was another building, one they restored to the standards of the city, and it became the home of many Academy students, including Captain Adama. As I said, he was one of the nice ones. Others among his fellow student would mock us as we left our home, some threw stones, others painted obscenities upon the side of the building. It turned into a small war.”

She closed her eyes, and Helo thought she looked pained. She twisted the necklace, wrapping it around her finger. “My father was among the casualties. He... The authorities always insisted that it was a mugging, but we had nothing worth stealing. None of us did. That which is the most sacred to us is a mockery to everyone else. There was a day that Captain Adama found me, sitting in the alley, mourning my father. He didn't understand when I reacted so strongly to his uniform, but he tried to help me. He couldn't. It was one of those things. I wouldn't let him.”

Helo felt that same desire. Gods, she looked just like a child sitting there, and he wanted to help her, take her in his arms and hold her as he doubted anyone had done in years. She was vulnerable, and he doubted anyone ever saw that in her. She was just a freak to them, some fanatic who deserved whatever she got for being different.

She lifted her head, shaking off the memory. “At any rate, our meetings became something of a habit. He always walked down that alley when he went home from lunch, and I always used that alley to escape from the confinements of the order. He would smile at me, occasionally he offered me a drink or candy, and I always refused. It was kind of... a game, I think. There was no harm in it, or so we both thought. But we were crossing lines in a war, and that wasn't acceptable. Someone set fire to our commune. The place was little better than condemned, and it went up quickly.

“I think they actually wanted him to see it go up, wanted him to watch it burn. For my part, I was in trouble with the high priest, and he had ordered me confined to my room. I've always hated him for it. He almost got me killed. I couldn't get out, Helo. The building was on fire, and I was trapped,” Jitterbug's voice broke a little, and she stood abruptly. She started to leave, stopped, and sat back down.

“What happened?” Helo asked gently.

She bit her lip. Gods, if she started crying, he didn't know what he'd do. “I thought about jumping out the window, but I was four stories up. I knew the fall would kill me. I knew I would die. So... I didn't jump. Couldn't. I prayed, of course, though my faith had nearly deserted me, and then suddenly... He was there. I swore, at the time, I was having a vision. I'd seen the Sun God. Apollo. Bathed in the light of the fire, he had an aura like that of a god, and I was in pain from where I'd been burned and nearly overcome from the smoke. I didn't recognize him, and I called him Apollo. I thought the Gods had answered my prayer, and that a god had come to save me.”

She laughed a little. “Silly of me, wasn't it? That a foolish idea... Never mind. Later, in the hospital, I spoke to him, for truly the first time. He gave me the necklace, the token of Apollo, and told me that the instructors had heard the story and given him the call sign 'Apollo.' I apologized and told him that he would live to regret that, and I think he has.”

“Wait, so Captain Adama saved you from a burning building?” Helo asked. “Why the frak doesn't anyone know about this?”

“Because,” she answered as though it explained everything. “He healed too quickly for them to explain it, and it was easier for them to pretend that it never happened.”

Helo blinked again. He had that headache again. The Jitterbug headache. They were the worst. “What do you mean, he healed too quickly?”

“They told me we both should have died in that fire,” Jitterbug said, rising. This time, Helo knew she wouldn't be sitting back down. “Our survival is considered either miraculous or a hoax. I assure you, Helo. It was neither.”

Helo swallowed hard. “Then what was it?”

She laughed. “The will of the Gods.”

“Pass the word, pass the word, Lieutenant Thrace, report to the briefing room. Lieutenant Thrace, report to the briefing room,” the voice of Gaeta chimed happily over the comm.

Frak, Kara thought, there goes my plans to meet Lee and talk to him about this morning. It wasn't like she wanted to explain what she'd been doing in Lee's bed, but she didn't think his bad mood this morning was entirely because of his hangover. She should have talked to Lee days ago. She had plenty of things to say to him, things that she knew that he needed to hear, but she didn't think that he was ready to hear some of it. She'd held it back, knowing that it was too soon, but judging from Lee's behavior earlier, the time had come.

Only,it hadn't. Because she couldn't go see Lee. Oh, no. She had to go report to the frakking briefing room. She sure as hell didn't want to, but what frakking choice did she have? She even got the pleasure of going in her flight suit, which was going to get pretty frakking uncomfortable, but she didn't think whoever called her down wanted her to take the time to change. She yawned and made her way to the briefing room.

She walked into the room and was surprised to see Commander Adama, Colonel Tigh, and President Roslin waiting for her. She took a seat. “Sirs.”

“Lieutenant Thrace,” Roslin began with a smile. “I thought you would like to be present. Commander Adama has been reviewing your mission to return to Caprica again, at my request.”

“Caprica?” Kara asked, stunned. What the frak do I care about Caprica? She should care. She'd made a frakking promise to Anders, but she didn't. She had pretty much forgotten that she had even thought about going back to Caprica ever since Lee came back. Sure, she had made a promise. They both knew that she'd never be able to keep it. And it didn't seem to matter, not now that Lee was back.

“Yes, Caprica,” Roslin smiled again. “I felt that a reevaluation was necessary now that Captain Apollo has brought us another raider. He also provides us with another pilot.”

“What?” Kara exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You can't be thinking of sending Lee on this mission. He barely recovered from what the Cylons did to him, and he's not one-hundred percent yet. He's in no state to go on this mission.”

“I disagree,” Roslin said firmly. She held up folders. “I have read Doctor Cottle's reports on Captain Apollo's condition. He said that Apollo is making a remarkable recovery from his physical injuries. The post traumatic stress is a normal, expected reaction. I've also read Colonel Tigh's report on what happened to Captain Apollo. I believe this mission offers Apollo a better chance at a full recovery than anything else we can hope to offer.”

“The frak do you mean by that?” Kara demanded, forgetting for a moment that she was asking the president that question. She reddened a little, but she refused to back down.

“We're not Cylons,” the president answered vaguely, and Kara just knew that her conviction had something to do with a vision or some stupid frakked up prophecy. “This mission offers not only a way to restore Captain Apollo's confidence in himself, it has the opportunity for revenge.”

“Revenge?” Kara stared at the other woman. Was the president insane? While there was no one Kara would rather have covering her back than Lee, she knew that he was not ready for this. He hadn't been okay after a day of light duty. He couldn't go back into a hot zone. He wasn't ready to face Caprica. She hadn't been ready to face it, and she wasn't coming back from a Cylon brainwashing. She looked at Tigh. He seemed unconvinced, but then he always did when he heard a plan of the president's. Adama, though, seemed to believe her. Kara couldn't believe this.

“Vengeance, if you will,” the president said.

“Why does it have to be Lee?” Kara asked, afraid of the answer.

“First, because he can pilot the raider,” Roslin answered calmly. “Second, because he is one of the few people we have left who has gone up against a Centurion and lived through it. Third, because his destiny is there.”

Destiny on Caprica. Here we go again. “Has anyone asked Lee how he feels about this?”

“Lee is an officer of the Colonial Fleet,” Adama interjected quietly. “He'll go where he's ordered to go. Kara, this is your plan. You were convinced that it was sound.”

“It is,” Kara admitted reluctantly. It is when we don't have to count on Lee to pull if off. She hated herself for the thought. It seemed like a betrayal of Lee to think it, but it was true. He wasn't ready for this. Caprica was not the place to send a man as badly traumatized as he was. She should speak up, tell them about last night, but somehow, she couldn't.

Gods, Kara, say it. Do it for Lee. But she didn't say a frakking thing.

“Then we're agreed,” Roslin said. “Now, Lieutenant, let's discuss the details of your plan.”

The pile of paperwork was taunting him. It sat on top of his desk and stared at him, mocking him. Lee would never get this done. He had worked on it for hours since the end of his shift in the CIC, and he didn't seem to be making any progress in ridding himself of it. He knew that being CAG kept a person busy, but he suspected that Kara had let the paperwork part of her job slide over the past month or so. He was still finding things mixed in stacks that should have been signed off on the day that he was taken by the Cylons.

He signed his name to another sheet of paper and added it to the stack of signed, finished paperwork. He usually preferred to work alone, in his office, but today it was far too quite. He had expected Kara to come barging in the minute she was free of the nuggets, but she hadn't.

He didn't want to admit how much it hurt that she didn't come. He was still puzzled by this morning, and how he had managed to wake up with Starbuck in his arms. He knew that he had panicked, and then he had gotten short with her. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms all day, but it was something that he could not have. Still, he couldn't keep his mind off why she had done it. He was thinking about it all through his shift in the CIC, and it was probably the reason why he wasn't making any real progress with the paperwork.

He heard the hatch open and looked up expectantly. He tried his best to push aside his disappointment that it wasn't Kara and smiled at Jitterbug. She was braver than people gave her credit for. And she was wearing her token outside of her uniform. Technically, it wasn't supposed to be visible, but he wasn't going to say anything about it. “Did you need something, Jitterbug?”

She smiled at him, fingering the token. “I came to invite you to the triad game. You look like you need a break, Captain. I hope you don't mind me saying so.”

He shook his head. Jitterbug seemed so innocent, so like that child he had seen crying alone in an alleyway years ago, but he had to admit he admired her courage. She also tempted him. He'd take any excuse he could get to get out of here. He wasn't making any progress, so he might as well join the game. But he couldn't. “I don't have anything to bet. I'm afraid I ate the chocolate.”

She smiled. “There never was any chocolate, sir. And I believe I can stake you, sir. Helo and I just came into a considerable amount of contraband.”

“So they know?” Lee grabbed his shirt off the back of his chair. Slipping it on, he walked over to Jitterbug's side.

She looked up at him. “They will if you choose to confirm it.”

“Why should I?” he asked softly, picking up the token from her hands and studying it for a moment. She put a hand over his.

“Because it will cause doubt, and doubt will be your ally,” she told him. “I don't expect you to believe that, though.”

“You think the prophecy is about me, don't you?” he asked, letting go of the charm and pushing her in front of him out of the hatch.

“Yes, I do,” she answered, her voice full of regret. She shook her head and tried to smile, switching the subject to things pleasant and untouched, as if the Cylons had never attacked. It worked, maybe because he let it work. She even had him laughing when they reached the rec room.

He took a seat next to Helo. Helo smiled and saluted with a cup of the chief's brew. Lee didn't know if he should be insulted or not, reminded as he was of last night, but he decided that Helo was just in high spirits because he had won the bet. Or was about to. He smiled a little and accepted his cards—Jitterbug's cards, actually, as she'd passed hers over to him and refused to play.

“So... Captain,” Hot Dog began slowly. “Did you really get your call sign saving someone from a fire?”

“Actually,” Lee corrected, shifting the cards around. “I got it because they didn't believe that I'd saved someone from a fire. Apparently you're supposed to get burned when you do stuff like that. And I wasn't.”

“Aw, crap, you mean it's true? Helo won the bet?” another pilot demanded. “Damn.”

Lee laughed and shook his head accepting the cup of moonshine someone handed him. He raised a toast to Helo, who knocked their cups together.

“Good to have you back, Lee,” Helo said, testing the water a bit.

Lee shook his head again. “Starbuck wasn't that bad of a CAG. You didn't need me.”

“Yes, we do,” Jitterbug insisted quickly. “Everyone missed you. I believe the entire ship was at your memorial service.”

My what? He almost asked, but then he remembered. To Galactica, he had been dead. Hot Dog smiled. “Yeah. Starbuck even wore a dress.”

“She did what?” This time the words escaped Lee before he could stop himself. He hadn't meant to ask. He didn't want to care.

Helo passed the bottle over to Lee, and Jitterbug filled his glass up for him again. Hot Dog grinned. “It was frakking priceless. You should have seen Tigh's face. He'd put out the order for dress grays, and she comes in... I mean, she's decked out in this black dress, a hat with a veil and heels. Tigh wanted to throw her in the brig, but the commander and the president were trying not to laugh. I'm sorry, sir. It was your memorial service, after all.”

Lee couldn't help smiling. “Starbuck in a dress. That I would have paid to see.”

The others were laughing, and he continued to smile, but he'd gotten an image in his head of Kara in a black dress. He couldn't help but wonder why she'd done it. The first time he saw her in a dress, she had worn it to prove that she had hygiene. Then she'd smiled that damn smile, and he'd fallen, hard and fast. He closed his eyes. Why would she have worn another dress? She had told him that her in a dress was a once in a lifetime opportunity. An opportunity that she'd used to frak Gaius Baltar.

He winced. He didn't want to think about that or what had happened afterwards—what he ahd said, what he had done. He had meant to tell her that he was sorry, but he'd hugged her, he'd kissed her instead. He guessed that she had accepted it as an apology because they were friends again after that. He wanted them to be more; she didn't. That was life.

What the frak did her wearing a dress mean? And why had she been in his bed this morning? Was it possible that she felt this same way that he did? No. He knew that she had found someone on Caprica. She didn't want him.

So why was she sleeping in my arms?

“Where is Starbuck, anyway?” Jitterbug asked, interrupting Lee's thoughts. He opened his eyes and looked at her. She was studying two sheets of paper in her hands, and he somehow knew they were recopied passages from her book. She might as well not have asked the question for all the attention she was paying to it, and yet it bothered him.

“Oh, she's in a briefing,” Hot Dog answered. “With Roslin, Adama, and Tigh. Probably about that mission of hers.”

“What mission?” Lee asked, his voice sharper than he'd intended. He hadn't been the CAG again for very long, but he damn well should have been informed of any missions that were being considered.

“Oh, you know,” Hot Dog continued, oblivious to the dangerous edge to Lee's voice. “The one back to Caprica.”

Lee felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. He couldn't breathe, but somehow he got to his feet. “I'm out.”

He turned and fled the room, ignoring Jitterbug calling to him and Hot Dog's cry of Ow, what the frak did you do that for, Helo? He paused outside the door to catch his breath. Why the frak had he thought that Kara could possibly think of him that way? She was planning to go back to Caprica. To him. To the other man she'd met.

Lee went off in search of the chief's still. All the alcohol on Galactica was not going to make this hurt any less, but he sure as hell wanted to try. It was alcohol or death at this point. He wanted to die, had wanted to ever since the Cylons took him, but he didn't want to go like this, and not over Kara.

He was not going to kill himself over Kara. She didn't deserve it.

Besides, dying was too frakking easy.