![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rabid1stMINOTAUR
By Rabid1st
BSG – K/L with some K/A and L/D at the start
Spoilers: To Scar Promo S2.5
Rating: R
Beta Babes: Winter_Queen82, Lilith, Devilbunny, Jei and
Summary: Kara has a lot on her mind. Lee is out of his mind. Anders wants to play a little friendly game of one-on-one. Is that a good idea?
Disclaimer: Have you heard about the big, super-amazing finale to the best season of the best show on television? Apparently, it was spoiled by some guy on Skiffy? That guy…he knows nothing about this fic. Don’t even bother asking him what happens…’cause he can’t tell you…’cause this fic isn’t official or sanctioned or supported in anyway by anyone who does a Podcast. Yes, I’m looking at you, Mr. Ron Moore. Please don’t sue me…I am cheeky but I make no money and I don’t even own an Ipod.
PREVIOUS PARTS
PART ONE
http://rabid1st.livejournal.com/74418.html#cutid1
PART TWO
http://rabid1st.livejournal.com/76225.html#cutid1
PART THREE
“4438, this is Pegasus Actual, you are cleared to dock.”
“I cycled. Five weeks ago. I can’t be eight weeks…” Unable to continue, Kara let the sentence die away.
“Pregnant,” Cottle finished for her. “Saying the word doesn’t make it any more or less true.” He flipped open a chart and after searching his pockets located a pen. Poised to write, he asked, “Was it light?”
“When?”
“Five weeks ago. Your cycle. Was it light?”
“It’s always light.”
“And short, I bet.”
Kara shook her head, frowning. But it had been a very short bleed, two days of sporadic red. And she’d been four days late but so happy to get over the doubting she’d never questioned it. The bleed had seemed like a sign from the Gods. She’d offered a special sacrifice to Artemis and prayed for Aphrodite’s guidance in choosing her partners more wisely. No more anonymous guys in bars and definitely no more Lee Adama.
“Any spotting since that time?” Cottle asked, continuing to fill out his forms.
“No.”
“And you have no idea who the father is?” Cottle asked again, his pen hovering over her paperwork. “I don’t like blank spaces on my records. A simple DNA swab and we’ll have a winner.”
“It was a busy week.”
“Still,” Cottle groused. “I’m thinking it’s a finite number, somewhere between one and ten?”
“Ten?” Kara rolled her eyes. Two a day was fast even by her standards. “I wasn’t interested in their names so much as their...uh...talent. I was drinking. A lot. And I went to Cloud 9 for some R&R., relax, unwind. I might’ve picked up a few guys in the bar.”
“Could’ve or did?”
Kara barely hesitated. “Did,” she confirmed but she neglected to add that her sexual excursion had been a way to get Lee and Dee off her mind. Taking on two guys at a time wasn't her usual method. But if Cottle knew his stuff, even that low point had been three days too late to make this anything but a huge mess. Within the window of opportunity Cottle had given her the date of conception put only one man in the running. But she couldn’t tell Cottle that so she bluffed him out.
“A week is a long time. Can you narrow it down to one night?”
“The conception, yes. The relevant ejaculation? No.”
“Then, I can’t give you a name.”
Craggy face as impassive as a painting, Cottle stared at her. Kara felt like he was reading Lee’s name off the inside of her skull. “You should, at least, tell him before you do anything irrevocable.”
Tell him. Tell Lee. Say, ‘Guess who’s going to be a father?’ And then wait until he guessed right. He would, eventually, because Dee was pregnant, too. Then they could have a good laugh about how he was single-handedly repopulating the fleet. Kara shook her head sharply. She couldn’t see that happening. Anymore than she could see herself sitting down on Lee’s oversized Commander Couch and telling him they’d really screwed up royally this time.
“Viper 4438, I repeat: Are you having trouble with your locking mechanism? Captain Thrace? Can you hear me? Captain?”
“Yes. What?”
“Are you unable to dock, sir?”
Kara blinked the world back into focus. Stars were wheeling by in the distance. She grabbed the stick between her thighs, feeling suddenly off balance. Space had no standards for orientation but within the frame of the landing bay her body’s equilibrium took over. Her personal center of gravity told her she was upside down and getting dizzy. Her Viper hung from the Pegasus trap like a fruit bat. How had she gotten there? She checked the flight log. It clocked her landing ten minutes earlier. Kara stared at the readout, appalled. She couldn’t remember any of it, not even calling the ball.
“Sorry,” she mumbled but then had nothing further to say. A flight instructor could hardly admit she’d been flying blind or hanging around in the landing trap for ten minutes, lost in her own thoughts. “Slight mechanical difficulty. Got it clear now.”
Reaching a trembling hand to her control panel, Kara flipped the necessary switches to start the docking. She felt the ship shudder when the cables connected. Her display panels flickered as Pegasus took over her controls. A few seconds later, the great ship maneuvered her tiny Viper into position for the bay airlock to swallow. With nothing else to do, Kara tried to recall the details of her flight.
She remembered leaving the life station on Galactica and heading for the hanger. She remembered studying the three names Doc Cottle had written on her prenatal pamphlet. She was to go to the Black Market on the Prometheus and find a shop called the Theban Seal. Once she entered the shop, she was to ask for her Aunt Louisa’s medicine. Kara had been silently repeating these instructions when Cally stopped her for a chat. They’d exchanged a few meaningless pleasantries. Tyrol had teased her about Sam’s pyramid playing. She’d stop listening about then.
She could vaguely summon up the launch, the g-forces pressing her into her seat. But the flight over to Pegasus was lost to her. She must have been flying on instinct alone. It was a tribute to her skill that she’d managed any landing, never mind a perfectly trapped one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once he started moving again, Lee wandered the corridors for a time before deciding to take his temper to the gym. A hard workout generally cleared his head. A few young crewmen offered to partner him for combat practice but he turned them all down. He was in a dangerous mood, likely to lash out indiscriminately. Dr. Irisi had been teaching him to channel his aggression, clearing a path for his other emotions. Lee knew he had a tendency to ignore his feelings until they grew teeth and attacked. But he’d never considered his behavior aggressive.
Therapy had confronted him with the evidence. Dr. Irisi had given him his first glimmering of understanding for his inner child. Lee wasn’t a fan of the self-centered little brat. Nor did he enjoy the sessions with him. But he was learning to recognize the subtle ticking of an emotional time bomb counting down to detonation. He hoped a little strenuous exercise would defuse this one.
After he changed into his shorts, he stuffed Kara’s file in his locker under his neatly folded uniform and closed the door on the associated turmoil. He concentrated on burning off his excess testosterone, shadow boxing, powering through leg-presses, pull-ups and crunches. He pummeled the heavy bag for almost an hour. When his hands started aching he took a breather. Sitting on a bench, massaging a thumb along one palm, he let his thoughts settle into a jumble of disconnected puzzle pieces. Some things looked better lying in a heap.
Checking his pulse every minute or so, Lee waited for his heart rate to settle. Once he’d cooled down, he stripped off his tanks and grabbed a towel. He was heading toward the showers and feeling comfortably numb, when Sam Anders jogged through the door.
“Oh, hey, just the man I want to see,” Sam said brightly as he trotted by Lee on his way to the lockers.
Lee rotated slowly, arctic blue gaze narrowing, pulse quickening. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yeah,” Anders confirmed. “Thought we could have a quick round of one-on-one,” he went on, voice muffled by fabric as he stripped off his sweatshirt.
“One-on-one?” Lee sounded like he couldn’t believe such a game existed or, if it did, that Sam Anders would ask him to play.
“Pyramid,” Sam clarified, pointing toward the door on the far side of the gym.
Lee didn’t bother looking toward the entry to the lower gym level. He knew it led to the Pegasus Shooting Range and other assorted sporting venues. He hadn’t explored yet. But if his new ship had a lap pool, it was hardly surprising it had a pyramid court, too.
“You want to take me on?”
“Sure, why not?”
'Because I want you dead,' Lee’s inner child answered, grinning wickedly.
Lee closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. He wasn’t going to lose control, not now. When it seemed safe to look again, he did. His icy gaze fixed on Sam’s lithely muscled back. There were marks on the other man's skin. Lee could trace the light pattern Kara’s nails had scratched as they'd frakked that morning.
The court should be empty. No witnesses.
Lee’s tight little smile barely reached his eyes but it gave his face an unholy intensity. Back turned, Anders didn’t notice the smile or Lee’s predatory stillness.
“So are we on?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
Lee met his eye steadily. He gave a sardonic little shrug and softly said, “Why not?”
Sam chatted amiably about Kara and the peace talks as he opened the locker he’d been using for his towels and clothes.
“Your father is driving a very hard bargain, demanding cross checks and assurances…”
“He doesn’t trust the Cylons? Shocking,” Lee snorted.
There was a black nylon duffle crammed inside Sam’s locker. He yanked the bag out and, turning, deposited it on the bench behind him. He raised a brow. “They need us, now,” he reminded Lee as he took a towel from his duffle.
“They need our DNA. That’s not quite the same thing.”
“Hey, I know what you’re saying. It’s hard to let go of the anger. I was right there on Caprica, in the thick of it.”
“Yeah, Kara’s told me all about you,” Lee drawled. “You were a real hero.”
“Right place. Right time,” Anders shrugged. As if, Lee thought, he was oblivious to the irony. “I did what I had to do. But we can’t go on fighting and running forever. There aren’t enough of us.”
After drying off his face, neck and hands, Anders wadded his towel up and shot it toward the laundry hatch. It was a conceit, he’d picked up from Kara. She always did the same thing. Lee tried not to think about them practicing after their showers. Anders’ towel swished out of sight, just like Kara’s would have. The easy familiarity irritated Lee but he didn’t let his feelings show, even when Sam grinned at him in triumph.
Zipping open his duffle, Sam took out a blue and gold pyramid ball and lobbed it toward Lee. Catching the ball deftly from the air, Lee did a one-handed juggle, bouncing it from his palm to wrist to elbow and back. He might be a desk jockey now but he had no intention of being one-upped in the coordination department.
Sam watched the display for a moment and then asked, “Have you played before?”
“Neighborhood games,” Lee said, waving his smattering of knowledge aside. “I know the rules.”
“So, first to fifteen?”
“Fifteen,” Lee agreed.
They found the court easily enough, three doors beyond the lap pool. There were kneepads and gloves in marked storage bins near the player’s entrance but no elbow padding. Sam had his own but decided not to use them. Toting his duffle, he followed Lee through the door and they thudded down a set of curving narrow steps to the court.
At the foot of the stairs, Lee switched on a bank of lights. They both blinked at the stark brightness of the illuminated court. The playing field was laid out at the bottom of a deep, white bowl like an operating theater. Its concave design permitted a running player to use the walls for leverage, climbing several feet vertically before rebounding back into the game. There were the traditional neutral zones marked on the floor and three goals, one double and two singles. Anders dropped his duffle on the sidelines.
As Lee pulled on his gloves, he let his gaze drift up the wall to the five rows of spectator seats, dark and empty behind safety glass. He flexed his fingers. The stiff glove leather had very little give but he could still make a fist. Sam was stretching and lunging from side to side, getting a feel for the slightly tacky floor. He ran at the wall, continued up it several feet and then did a back flip to the court. He shot the ball into every basket and tested the bounce of it off the backboards. He never seemed to miss.
Lee stretched but was already feeling too warm. He wanted to get on with the game. Barking at Anders to wrap it up, he crossed to and set the automatic scorekeeper. When he returned to the center triangle, they squared off, ball resting between them.
“You take first pass,” Sam said, nudging the ball toward Lee.
“Why me?”
Sam laughed. It was a low, indulgent chuckle. “I have the professional advantage.”
“But it’s not much of one,” Lee remarked without any trace of rancor in his tone.
“True,” Sam admitted good-naturedly. “Alright, how’s this? The game is my idea. You should take the ball out first.”
“It’s my court,” Lee countered. “That makes you the visiting team. Visitors take first pass.”
“I practically live here,” Sam remarked, taking possession of the ball. “Which reminds me, Kara told me not to challenge you to a game. She figured you’ve got too much bile and too little brain to play pyramid.”
“What?” Lee coughed, startled and a little hurt.
That didn't even sound like Kara. But the thought of her saying something so stinging threw Lee completely off his guard for a moment. And a moment was all Sam Anders needed. He wheeled to the right and blew by Lee, scoring the first point.
“Or words to that affect,” Anders said, shooting the ball at Lee. “Looks like I won’t need that professional advantage after all.”
The show of easy superiority sharpened Lee’s wandering focus. He didn’t think he had any chance of winning this game but he wasn’t about to go down without a fight. If Anders wanted competition, he’d come to the right place. They got down to the business of pushing each other around.
The ball bounced free. Lee grabbed it and scored, catching the rebound. As he tucked the ball close to his chest, Anders muscled into him. Lee pivoted left but Anders held on. They slapped and shoved at one another. Lee, with his feet braced wide, had his head down and his shoulders hunched like an angry bull. Anders was more like a python, wrapping around. He slithered under Lee’s arm and punched up, popping the ball free. He dove for it but Lee stiff-armed him, sending him sprawling. Anders tucked and rolled with the fall, returning effortlessly to his feet. But he was a second too late to block Lee’s overhand, cross-court shot. The ball rattled through both baskets for two points. Someone cheered.
Startled Lee glanced up at the stands. He couldn’t make out faces but he could tell a few of the seats were occupied. Someone must have noticed them entering the court.
‘Great,’ Lee thought, ‘an audience...the one thing you don’t need at a homicide.’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kara returned to her quarters to change out of her flight gear. Dressed comfortably in tanks and slacks, she dialed CIC and asked for Lee. When they told her he was in the gym, she remembered Sam’s plan to challenge Lee to a game of pyramid. It had never been a good idea. Now it was an almost suicidal one. Kara didn’t like the idea of the two of them squaring off on the best of days. But Lee’s mood had seemed particularly foul earlier. And he still had her file. She didn’t want him saying the wrong thing to Sam. She, more than anyone, knew what kind of damage a seething Lee Adama could inflict.
Tucking Cottle’s prenatal pamphlet away in a drawer, Kara headed for the gym.
The locker room was empty when she arrived but muffled cheers and gasps led her to a door, some stairs leading down to a hallway and finally to the pyramid courts. She considered taking the players’ entrance but decided to first get a view of the situation. She yanked the spectators’ door open and was hit by a wall of sound. The tiny stadium was packed with off-duty pilots and marines. She had to push her way through the crowd to get a view of the action on the court. The game was in full swing. Lee and Sam were stripped to nothing but shorts, padded gear and shoes. They were both slick with sweat.
Sam had his back to the wall in the neutral recovery box. A recent two point goal by Lee must have given him possession. He was tense and ready in the box, waiting for Lee to offer some quarter. But Lee didn’t look like he intended to back off. Kara glanced at the penalty clock. Sam was running out of time. If he didn’t leave the recovery box soon he would start losing points. Lee flashed enough teeth for a shark as he made tiny come-on motions with the fingers of both hands. Seeing the gesture, Kara grimaced. She’d seen it before, usually a few seconds before Lee started cracking heads.
Sam let the clock hit the final second. Then, he exploded into action. He was amazing to watch, lithe as a cheetah in full flight. He sprang forward and dove under Lee’s guard. Lee turned but too slowly. Sam rolled along the floor, scrambled up, dashed to the nearest basket and scored. The ball broke from the chute into his hand. His momentum carried him beyond the court and on up the wall for a few steps. He twisted, doing an aerial cartwheel. Kara couldn’t help cheering. Finding his feet, he feigned left before surging right. Lee spun trying to keep up with his speedy opponent but Sam was too quick for him. He scored three more singles, always keeping possession.
Desperate to stop Sam’s momentum, Lee stepped into his path and took an elbow to the ribs. The blow knocked some wind out of him but he didn't go down. Instead, he grabbed Sam around the waist. Sam tried to break free but Lee picked him up bodily and tossed him to the floor. Sam hit the deck with a grunt, all the air leaving his lungs. He stayed down, staring up at the ceiling as Lee recovered the ball and scored another double.
The crowd shouted out ‘foul’ and ‘illegal tackle.’ Sam signed for a time-out, teeing with both hands. He struggled to stand, obviously in some pain. Kara shook her head and, one eye still on the game, started edging toward the exit. She had to break this up before anyone got seriously hurt.
Toying with the ball, Lee waited for Sam to recover. It took Sam awhile to gasp out his complaint. And when he’d finished, Lee shrugged, unimpressed. Kara wished she could hear what they were saying to each other. As the exchange continued, it grew more heated and she grew even more concerned. She began ordering people out of her way. If the look on Lee’s face was any indication, things were going to turn violent very soon. She needed to get down there and buffer the explosion.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You can’t use a throw tackle. That’s a loss of point,” Anders gasped. He was bent double, hands braced on his knees as he tried to get air.
“Oh, sorry,” Lee said, without a touch of remorse. As he waited for Sam to come back from the tackle, he did another one-handed flourish with the ball. “Not really my game.”
“What is your game, exactly?” Anders asked, straightening.
He limped slowly to the neutral recovery box. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as Lee shifted from foot to foot impatiently. Neutral recovery rarely resulted in a turn over. Lee would have to find another way to get the ball back. Anders took his set position. Lee threw the ball at him with so much force catching it hurt. Anders was starting to wish he’d never come down to the gym, never thought of this challenge, but he wasn’t about to give up.
“Truth and consequences,” Lee said.
“Not familiar with that one,” Sam admitted, rolling the ball back and forth as he tried to gauge Lee’s weaker side. “But I’m guessing it’s nothing like charades.”
“No. It’s a sport, very physical. I learn the truth about something. And you take the consequences.”
Sam straightened at the unvarnished threat. His line of sight swept to the seats filled with observers but he failed to find a friendly face. He could barely make out individuals through the heavy glass but he knew most of the gym regulars were Viper pilots and Colonial Marines. A crowd like that would be completely loyal to their commander. They were enjoying the game but they might enjoy a brawl even more. Sam tried to laugh off the implication of Lee’s remark.
“Sounds a little one-sided to me.”
“It’s good to be in command,” Lee said softly.
There were only two seconds remaining on the penalty clock when Sam ventured out of the box again. He scored but predictably went down for his troubles. Lee’s tackle was perfectly legal, this time, a hard push out of bounds. But it was timed so a metal backboard intersected with Sam’s face. The bloodshed could have been accidental but Sam didn’t think it was. He wanted to call for another break but didn’t. His head was spinning and he was starting to get seriously pissed. He tried to staunch the flow of blood from a cut above his eye by pressing two fingers into his brow.
“You need to back the frak off,” he snapped as Lee crowded him again.
“Or?”
“Or we’ll call this game off.”
“Surrender? I guess that’s your answer to everything.”
“Unlike you and your father.. I don’t have one answer for everything.”
Anders broke around Lee’s defense to score another point. He scooped the ball into his hand, spun like a shot-putter and fired the ball back at Lee’s head. This time Lee ducked, letting the sphere bounce off the far wall. A few of the spectators groaned as both men scrambled for the free ball. Lee fell on it. Sam tackled him and they rolled over one another to the center pyramid.
Lee took the ball out of play by grounding it. The defensive move stopped the clock but Lee waited a scant moment before he bulldozed over Anders to score another double. On the way to the goal, he caught Sam in the mouth with a casual, unpadded elbow. Blood spurted.
“Frak! You son of a…”Anders moaned.
His eyes filled with tears as his hand went to his mouth. After touching his lip gingerly, he glanced at his blood coated fingers. Rage took over and he charged, his momentum carrying the heavier Lee into the wall.
“What the frak is your problem,” Anders bellowed, avoiding Lee’s knee to his groin by a quick jump backward. He landed a kidney punch, causing Lee to shove him away and resume a parody of their game.
“You’re costing me the best pilot in the fleet,” Lee said as he scooped up the loose ball. “And I just don’t like you.”
“Kara? This is…?” Sam began. His mind cleared a little and he stepped back, denying Lee contact with him. “No, wait, of course, this is about Kara.”
Lee didn’t like the smug tone Anders was using. “What the frak does that mean?”
“You found out about the baby,” Anders circled Lee, keeping out of reach. “Don’t bother denying it.”
“I wasn’t planning on denying it.”
“Right. You’re in therapy now. No more denial. So, what is it? Did she need your permission to get laid? You got to sign off on some paperwork?”
“I don’t care what the two of you do. Frak her on the wing of her viper if you want. But I need her in the air, not nursing your whelp.”
“It might surprise you to learn some of us don’t care what you need.”
“She cares.”
“Yeah,” Anders snorted derisively. “You know, Helo told me you’re like a brother to her. Makes me wonder what kind of twisted family dynamic he has.”
“You’re walking a thin line, now.”
“Am I?” Anders mocked. “Well, out the air lock with me, Commander.”
Lee met his eye. “Kara and I go way back. You should keep that in mind.”
“Why? You going to break us up?” Sam shook his head. He leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice to say, “I don’t think so. You don’t have that kind of pull.”
“I haven’t tried…yet.”
“Yes, you have. You’ve tried and failed and now you’re trying again, even though you got another woman pregnant. You ever think that’s why Kara is with me…because you’re such a two-timing loser?”
“You bastard…you Cylon sympathizing, motherfrakking little…”
Lee cocked his arm for a punch but he didn’t get to throw it.
As he drew back, his elbow connected with Kara’s cheek, just below her right eye. She’d taken the stairs in a hurry and rushed across the court to get between him and Anders before their war broke out. There was a sickening note of flesh cracking into flesh. The force of Lee’s unintentional blow spun her off track. She staggered sideways. Lee jerked away from the blow and turned, all of the color draining from his face as he realized what he'd done. He reached out a hand, pleading with Kara not to fall but it was too late. She collapsed, sitting down hard.
There was a collective gasp from the spectators. And then, Sam Anders pushed by Lee and went to her. He cradled Kara in his arms, cooing over her as Lee beseeched her with his eyes.
Please be okay. Please forgive me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dee hitched a ride to the Pegasus with Helo and after learning Lee was at the gym let herself into his apartment. It was warm and quiet. She showered, enjoying the luxury of very hot water pounding her into relaxation. Once she was dry and comfortable, she slipped a silk, lace robe over her naked body. Then, she curled up on Lee’s bed with a good book to wait. She must have dozed because the next thing she heard was the sound of the hatch door clanging closed.
She sat up hurriedly but moved cautiously to the smoked glass partition that screened the bed alcove from the living area. She could hear ice hitting a glass. As she peered around the corner, Lee splashed bright green ambrosia from a decanter. He had a blue folder in his other hand but threw it onto the desktop with so much force it skidded and fell to the floor. Setting the decanter down with a bang, Lee gripped the desk edge with both hands. Head low and shoulders hunched, he took a deep breath and then another before letting go and picking up his drink. Dee saw him toss the booze back in one gulp.
He poured another drink, stalked to the sofa and sat down. But he couldn’t sit still. His head turned until he was staring at the file folder on the floor. A second later he stood up again and threw his glass across the room. It shattered, splashing ambrosia in an arc on the far wall.
Dee drew back in alarm. She’d miscalculated. Come at an awkward time. It wouldn’t do to be associated with whatever had upset him. She crept quietly back to the bed and, as carefully as she could, started changing back into her uniform. She’d fastened her bra and was stepping into her panties when Lee rounded the corner and caught her.
He paused, startled and angry. His hot gaze swept over her bare skin, lingering on the patch of dark hair she hastily covered with her briefs. He smiled but not happily. Dee swallowed hard. Lee had never looked at her in quite this way before. He seemed bigger, more commanding. She didn’t like it one bit. Her nipples were hard, uncomfortable knots and there was a churning in her lower abdomen. She reached for her negligee, hoping he wouldn’t notice her hands shaking. She wanted to be back in command of the situation and imagined the clothing would help. But Lee closed the distance between them in three or four strides and ripped the flimsy material from her hands.
“You won’t need that,” he growled, tossing the silken garment to the ground. His free hand gripped the back of her neck, holding her like a kitten by the scruff.
She froze, too shocked by this brutality to even protest. Ice water seemed to trickle through her veins as Lee kissed her. His mouth was so hard on hers she tasted blood. At first she was sure he’d injured her. But as he broke away she realized his lip was cut. He’d been fighting. Dee’s mind went immediately to Kara Thrace.
She knew Lee generally came to her after fighting with Kara. But he’d never brought the fight with him before. He’d always wanted tenderness and care after Kara worked him over. And Dee had been happy to oblige because he'd always seemed intent on her, totally aware. This time he was almost blind to her. His eyes were half-closed and unfocused as if he were dreaming. His fingers groped her mercilessly, pinching and shoving. Dee thought she might scream but she managed to squeak out a breathy ‘yes’ when he wrenched her underwear to her knees. A minute later she wished she’d remained quiet.
Lee seized her shoulders and spun her. Then, he pushed her face down on the bed, freed his erection and took her from behind, slapping against her flesh. Dee’s fear melted away into disgust. She concentrated every bit of her cunning on relaxing and moaning appropriately but she was soon bored. She laid still and quiet, waiting. Lee couldn’t seem to bounce and she lost patience with him. Only her plan kept her from getting up and leaving. The position did nothing for her. She rested her cheek on her hand and thought about being home again, with her father and her mother among the green hills of Sagittaron.
Eventually, Lee finished. Dee slithered away from his attempt to cuddle and excused herself to the rest room. She picked up her negligee on the way, keeping her eyes averted. She had no intention of letting him get away with this kind of behavior. She waited for him to come to her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After wiping himself clean with a tissue, Lee zipped up his pants and sprawled on the bed. He waited for Dee to return with some apprehension, wondering why he felt completely unsatisfied. She didn’t come back. Finally, he sighed, got up and went to the closed bathroom door.
“Are you okay?” he asked through it.
“Of course,” Dee said, coolly. “I’m just a little tired. I’ve had morning sickness all week. I shouldn’t have come….”
“Oh, Gods, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about the…”
He couldn’t bring himself to say the word: baby. Kara was going to have a baby. She would be with Sam Anders forever. Lee pinched the bridge of his nose as leaned his head against the doorjamb. He didn’t want to cry but it felt like he might.
“Dee? Really, I am sorry, I was just,” he paused. What could he say? “I was just so happy to see you.”
He needed her to forgive him. Forgive him for enjoying himself…for taking what he wanted. He realized how pathetic that made him but he couldn’t face losing his own child while Kara went on loving Anders. Dee, at least, needed him.
“It’s okay,” she said, at last. She cracked the door an inch and peered out at him. “I’m sure you needed the release. Are you feeling better?”
A tiny pang touched Lee’s heart. He’d been too rough. He’d disappointed her. And why? Because he was angry at Kara? Dee was a nice girl. Not some Viper jockey, who lived to fight and frak. She was a sensitive, sweet girl and he’d made no effort at all to please her. He reached a hand toward her cheek but paused when he saw her flinch.
“Hey,” he coaxed gently, “What do you say to a few of your things over here? You could make this place a home?”
Her eyes lit up as the idea took root. Lee smiled, resolutely pushing away any thought of Kara, transferring back to Galactica and then moving in with him. He needed to think about Dee and his baby. This was his future. He’d already spent too much of his life thinking about the one woman who was never going to think about him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kara couldn’t stop thinking about Lee, about the stricken look in his eyes when he saw her falling. She could still see his face as she looked into the mirror and gingerly probed the bluish bump on her cheek. She couldn’t help recalling the last time she’d taken a blow to the face. Lee had been there. A few hours after her promotion to Captain, they’d been jumped by three Pegasus roughs on their way to a briefing.
After the brawl, Lee had iced her bruises. His fingers had lingered, stroking over her skin, and his thumb had teased her lower lip open so he could see the cut inside it. She’d felt a wash of affection for him and a stirring heat in her belly. Seeing the warmth in her eyes, he’d smiled down at her and they’d melted into one another, bodies aligning, breathing as one. It had been one of the few times Kara had been sure of Lee’s love.
“Your friend is completely off his rocker, you know?” Sam said, drawing her back to the present. “I’m going to speak to the Admiral.”
“What? Why?”
“He hit you, knocked you down. What if you’d lost the baby?”
Kara sighed, turning away from her reflections to address the problem. “It was an accident, Samuel. And babies aren’t that easy to lose.” She crossed the room to take his hand. “I’m fine. But you’re not.” She tilted her head, grimly studying the damage Lee had inflicted. One of Sam’s eyes was swelling closed. His nose was probably broken. “You’ve got to stay away from Lee. Don’t let this escalate.”
“I want you off this ship,” Sam insisted. “I think he’s dangerous.”
Kara frowned, considering her options. She wondered, now, if she should tell Lee the truth. Would it solve anything? She intended to abort the pregnancy anyway, hope that Artemis would forgive her. At least, she was fairly sure that’s what she would do. She couldn’t imagine herself at a desk for seven months. She also couldn’t imagine Lee letting her fly into her second trimester, even carrying Anders baby. Nor was he likely to let her raise his baby with Anders. Lee was going to interfere. It’s what he did.
“Lee and I have been friends for a long time,” she said. "He would never intentionally hurt me." She wasn’t sure if she was addressing Sam or her own misgivings.
“Friends?” Sam Anders couldn’t believe his ears. “He pushes you around, Kara. I’ve seen him do it and I’ve heard stories from some of the crew. He treats you like some kind of perpetual screw-up. And as far as I can tell you’re the best thing on this ship.” Kara blinked and then laughed but Sam shook his head. “I’m serious.”
“I know,” Kara soothed, stroking a hand along his shoulder. “But what happened today…it was just a pilot thing…blowing off steam. Lee didn’t mean to hurt me.”
“I get that. I get that he doesn’t like the peace delegates and that he dislikes me in particular. But I don’t’ think it will matter if he ‘means to hurt’ you or not…after he’s done the damage. I don’t know why he thinks he can…but he treats you like you’re his personal property.”
“I’m not.”
“I know that…but he doesn’t seem to.”
Kara considered for a moment and then nodded. “Okay,” she said, turning so abruptly away from Sam that he took an unintentional step forward.
“Okay? Okay what?”
With one hand on the door, Kara paused, looking back over her shoulder. “You’re right. I’m going to ask for a transfer.”
Sam waited until she’d gone and then retrieved his duffle from the floor by the closet. He sat the bag on the bed but didn’t open it. Running his fingers along an outer seam, he revealed a hidden panel. Behind the panel was a small wireless communication device. Sam removed it from hiding, flipped it open and waited. There was a faint ringing sound from the open device.
A few seconds later a voice answered his call with a single word, “Minotaur.”
“Everything is in place,” Sam said and immediately broke the connection.
END THIS PART
By Rabid1st
BSG – K/L with some K/A and L/D at the start
Spoilers: To Scar Promo S2.5
Rating: R
Beta Babes: Winter_Queen82, Lilith, Devilbunny, Jei and
Summary: Kara has a lot on her mind. Lee is out of his mind. Anders wants to play a little friendly game of one-on-one. Is that a good idea?
Disclaimer: Have you heard about the big, super-amazing finale to the best season of the best show on television? Apparently, it was spoiled by some guy on Skiffy? That guy…he knows nothing about this fic. Don’t even bother asking him what happens…’cause he can’t tell you…’cause this fic isn’t official or sanctioned or supported in anyway by anyone who does a Podcast. Yes, I’m looking at you, Mr. Ron Moore. Please don’t sue me…I am cheeky but I make no money and I don’t even own an Ipod.
PREVIOUS PARTS
PART ONE
http://rabid1st.livejournal.com/74418.html#cutid1
PART TWO
http://rabid1st.livejournal.com/76225.html#cutid1
PART THREE
“4438, this is Pegasus Actual, you are cleared to dock.”
“I cycled. Five weeks ago. I can’t be eight weeks…” Unable to continue, Kara let the sentence die away.
“Pregnant,” Cottle finished for her. “Saying the word doesn’t make it any more or less true.” He flipped open a chart and after searching his pockets located a pen. Poised to write, he asked, “Was it light?”
“When?”
“Five weeks ago. Your cycle. Was it light?”
“It’s always light.”
“And short, I bet.”
Kara shook her head, frowning. But it had been a very short bleed, two days of sporadic red. And she’d been four days late but so happy to get over the doubting she’d never questioned it. The bleed had seemed like a sign from the Gods. She’d offered a special sacrifice to Artemis and prayed for Aphrodite’s guidance in choosing her partners more wisely. No more anonymous guys in bars and definitely no more Lee Adama.
“Any spotting since that time?” Cottle asked, continuing to fill out his forms.
“No.”
“And you have no idea who the father is?” Cottle asked again, his pen hovering over her paperwork. “I don’t like blank spaces on my records. A simple DNA swab and we’ll have a winner.”
“It was a busy week.”
“Still,” Cottle groused. “I’m thinking it’s a finite number, somewhere between one and ten?”
“Ten?” Kara rolled her eyes. Two a day was fast even by her standards. “I wasn’t interested in their names so much as their...uh...talent. I was drinking. A lot. And I went to Cloud 9 for some R&R., relax, unwind. I might’ve picked up a few guys in the bar.”
“Could’ve or did?”
Kara barely hesitated. “Did,” she confirmed but she neglected to add that her sexual excursion had been a way to get Lee and Dee off her mind. Taking on two guys at a time wasn't her usual method. But if Cottle knew his stuff, even that low point had been three days too late to make this anything but a huge mess. Within the window of opportunity Cottle had given her the date of conception put only one man in the running. But she couldn’t tell Cottle that so she bluffed him out.
“A week is a long time. Can you narrow it down to one night?”
“The conception, yes. The relevant ejaculation? No.”
“Then, I can’t give you a name.”
Craggy face as impassive as a painting, Cottle stared at her. Kara felt like he was reading Lee’s name off the inside of her skull. “You should, at least, tell him before you do anything irrevocable.”
Tell him. Tell Lee. Say, ‘Guess who’s going to be a father?’ And then wait until he guessed right. He would, eventually, because Dee was pregnant, too. Then they could have a good laugh about how he was single-handedly repopulating the fleet. Kara shook her head sharply. She couldn’t see that happening. Anymore than she could see herself sitting down on Lee’s oversized Commander Couch and telling him they’d really screwed up royally this time.
“Viper 4438, I repeat: Are you having trouble with your locking mechanism? Captain Thrace? Can you hear me? Captain?”
“Yes. What?”
“Are you unable to dock, sir?”
Kara blinked the world back into focus. Stars were wheeling by in the distance. She grabbed the stick between her thighs, feeling suddenly off balance. Space had no standards for orientation but within the frame of the landing bay her body’s equilibrium took over. Her personal center of gravity told her she was upside down and getting dizzy. Her Viper hung from the Pegasus trap like a fruit bat. How had she gotten there? She checked the flight log. It clocked her landing ten minutes earlier. Kara stared at the readout, appalled. She couldn’t remember any of it, not even calling the ball.
“Sorry,” she mumbled but then had nothing further to say. A flight instructor could hardly admit she’d been flying blind or hanging around in the landing trap for ten minutes, lost in her own thoughts. “Slight mechanical difficulty. Got it clear now.”
Reaching a trembling hand to her control panel, Kara flipped the necessary switches to start the docking. She felt the ship shudder when the cables connected. Her display panels flickered as Pegasus took over her controls. A few seconds later, the great ship maneuvered her tiny Viper into position for the bay airlock to swallow. With nothing else to do, Kara tried to recall the details of her flight.
She remembered leaving the life station on Galactica and heading for the hanger. She remembered studying the three names Doc Cottle had written on her prenatal pamphlet. She was to go to the Black Market on the Prometheus and find a shop called the Theban Seal. Once she entered the shop, she was to ask for her Aunt Louisa’s medicine. Kara had been silently repeating these instructions when Cally stopped her for a chat. They’d exchanged a few meaningless pleasantries. Tyrol had teased her about Sam’s pyramid playing. She’d stop listening about then.
She could vaguely summon up the launch, the g-forces pressing her into her seat. But the flight over to Pegasus was lost to her. She must have been flying on instinct alone. It was a tribute to her skill that she’d managed any landing, never mind a perfectly trapped one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once he started moving again, Lee wandered the corridors for a time before deciding to take his temper to the gym. A hard workout generally cleared his head. A few young crewmen offered to partner him for combat practice but he turned them all down. He was in a dangerous mood, likely to lash out indiscriminately. Dr. Irisi had been teaching him to channel his aggression, clearing a path for his other emotions. Lee knew he had a tendency to ignore his feelings until they grew teeth and attacked. But he’d never considered his behavior aggressive.
Therapy had confronted him with the evidence. Dr. Irisi had given him his first glimmering of understanding for his inner child. Lee wasn’t a fan of the self-centered little brat. Nor did he enjoy the sessions with him. But he was learning to recognize the subtle ticking of an emotional time bomb counting down to detonation. He hoped a little strenuous exercise would defuse this one.
After he changed into his shorts, he stuffed Kara’s file in his locker under his neatly folded uniform and closed the door on the associated turmoil. He concentrated on burning off his excess testosterone, shadow boxing, powering through leg-presses, pull-ups and crunches. He pummeled the heavy bag for almost an hour. When his hands started aching he took a breather. Sitting on a bench, massaging a thumb along one palm, he let his thoughts settle into a jumble of disconnected puzzle pieces. Some things looked better lying in a heap.
Checking his pulse every minute or so, Lee waited for his heart rate to settle. Once he’d cooled down, he stripped off his tanks and grabbed a towel. He was heading toward the showers and feeling comfortably numb, when Sam Anders jogged through the door.
“Oh, hey, just the man I want to see,” Sam said brightly as he trotted by Lee on his way to the lockers.
Lee rotated slowly, arctic blue gaze narrowing, pulse quickening. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yeah,” Anders confirmed. “Thought we could have a quick round of one-on-one,” he went on, voice muffled by fabric as he stripped off his sweatshirt.
“One-on-one?” Lee sounded like he couldn’t believe such a game existed or, if it did, that Sam Anders would ask him to play.
“Pyramid,” Sam clarified, pointing toward the door on the far side of the gym.
Lee didn’t bother looking toward the entry to the lower gym level. He knew it led to the Pegasus Shooting Range and other assorted sporting venues. He hadn’t explored yet. But if his new ship had a lap pool, it was hardly surprising it had a pyramid court, too.
“You want to take me on?”
“Sure, why not?”
'Because I want you dead,' Lee’s inner child answered, grinning wickedly.
Lee closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. He wasn’t going to lose control, not now. When it seemed safe to look again, he did. His icy gaze fixed on Sam’s lithely muscled back. There were marks on the other man's skin. Lee could trace the light pattern Kara’s nails had scratched as they'd frakked that morning.
The court should be empty. No witnesses.
Lee’s tight little smile barely reached his eyes but it gave his face an unholy intensity. Back turned, Anders didn’t notice the smile or Lee’s predatory stillness.
“So are we on?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
Lee met his eye steadily. He gave a sardonic little shrug and softly said, “Why not?”
Sam chatted amiably about Kara and the peace talks as he opened the locker he’d been using for his towels and clothes.
“Your father is driving a very hard bargain, demanding cross checks and assurances…”
“He doesn’t trust the Cylons? Shocking,” Lee snorted.
There was a black nylon duffle crammed inside Sam’s locker. He yanked the bag out and, turning, deposited it on the bench behind him. He raised a brow. “They need us, now,” he reminded Lee as he took a towel from his duffle.
“They need our DNA. That’s not quite the same thing.”
“Hey, I know what you’re saying. It’s hard to let go of the anger. I was right there on Caprica, in the thick of it.”
“Yeah, Kara’s told me all about you,” Lee drawled. “You were a real hero.”
“Right place. Right time,” Anders shrugged. As if, Lee thought, he was oblivious to the irony. “I did what I had to do. But we can’t go on fighting and running forever. There aren’t enough of us.”
After drying off his face, neck and hands, Anders wadded his towel up and shot it toward the laundry hatch. It was a conceit, he’d picked up from Kara. She always did the same thing. Lee tried not to think about them practicing after their showers. Anders’ towel swished out of sight, just like Kara’s would have. The easy familiarity irritated Lee but he didn’t let his feelings show, even when Sam grinned at him in triumph.
Zipping open his duffle, Sam took out a blue and gold pyramid ball and lobbed it toward Lee. Catching the ball deftly from the air, Lee did a one-handed juggle, bouncing it from his palm to wrist to elbow and back. He might be a desk jockey now but he had no intention of being one-upped in the coordination department.
Sam watched the display for a moment and then asked, “Have you played before?”
“Neighborhood games,” Lee said, waving his smattering of knowledge aside. “I know the rules.”
“So, first to fifteen?”
“Fifteen,” Lee agreed.
They found the court easily enough, three doors beyond the lap pool. There were kneepads and gloves in marked storage bins near the player’s entrance but no elbow padding. Sam had his own but decided not to use them. Toting his duffle, he followed Lee through the door and they thudded down a set of curving narrow steps to the court.
At the foot of the stairs, Lee switched on a bank of lights. They both blinked at the stark brightness of the illuminated court. The playing field was laid out at the bottom of a deep, white bowl like an operating theater. Its concave design permitted a running player to use the walls for leverage, climbing several feet vertically before rebounding back into the game. There were the traditional neutral zones marked on the floor and three goals, one double and two singles. Anders dropped his duffle on the sidelines.
As Lee pulled on his gloves, he let his gaze drift up the wall to the five rows of spectator seats, dark and empty behind safety glass. He flexed his fingers. The stiff glove leather had very little give but he could still make a fist. Sam was stretching and lunging from side to side, getting a feel for the slightly tacky floor. He ran at the wall, continued up it several feet and then did a back flip to the court. He shot the ball into every basket and tested the bounce of it off the backboards. He never seemed to miss.
Lee stretched but was already feeling too warm. He wanted to get on with the game. Barking at Anders to wrap it up, he crossed to and set the automatic scorekeeper. When he returned to the center triangle, they squared off, ball resting between them.
“You take first pass,” Sam said, nudging the ball toward Lee.
“Why me?”
Sam laughed. It was a low, indulgent chuckle. “I have the professional advantage.”
“But it’s not much of one,” Lee remarked without any trace of rancor in his tone.
“True,” Sam admitted good-naturedly. “Alright, how’s this? The game is my idea. You should take the ball out first.”
“It’s my court,” Lee countered. “That makes you the visiting team. Visitors take first pass.”
“I practically live here,” Sam remarked, taking possession of the ball. “Which reminds me, Kara told me not to challenge you to a game. She figured you’ve got too much bile and too little brain to play pyramid.”
“What?” Lee coughed, startled and a little hurt.
That didn't even sound like Kara. But the thought of her saying something so stinging threw Lee completely off his guard for a moment. And a moment was all Sam Anders needed. He wheeled to the right and blew by Lee, scoring the first point.
“Or words to that affect,” Anders said, shooting the ball at Lee. “Looks like I won’t need that professional advantage after all.”
The show of easy superiority sharpened Lee’s wandering focus. He didn’t think he had any chance of winning this game but he wasn’t about to go down without a fight. If Anders wanted competition, he’d come to the right place. They got down to the business of pushing each other around.
The ball bounced free. Lee grabbed it and scored, catching the rebound. As he tucked the ball close to his chest, Anders muscled into him. Lee pivoted left but Anders held on. They slapped and shoved at one another. Lee, with his feet braced wide, had his head down and his shoulders hunched like an angry bull. Anders was more like a python, wrapping around. He slithered under Lee’s arm and punched up, popping the ball free. He dove for it but Lee stiff-armed him, sending him sprawling. Anders tucked and rolled with the fall, returning effortlessly to his feet. But he was a second too late to block Lee’s overhand, cross-court shot. The ball rattled through both baskets for two points. Someone cheered.
Startled Lee glanced up at the stands. He couldn’t make out faces but he could tell a few of the seats were occupied. Someone must have noticed them entering the court.
‘Great,’ Lee thought, ‘an audience...the one thing you don’t need at a homicide.’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kara returned to her quarters to change out of her flight gear. Dressed comfortably in tanks and slacks, she dialed CIC and asked for Lee. When they told her he was in the gym, she remembered Sam’s plan to challenge Lee to a game of pyramid. It had never been a good idea. Now it was an almost suicidal one. Kara didn’t like the idea of the two of them squaring off on the best of days. But Lee’s mood had seemed particularly foul earlier. And he still had her file. She didn’t want him saying the wrong thing to Sam. She, more than anyone, knew what kind of damage a seething Lee Adama could inflict.
Tucking Cottle’s prenatal pamphlet away in a drawer, Kara headed for the gym.
The locker room was empty when she arrived but muffled cheers and gasps led her to a door, some stairs leading down to a hallway and finally to the pyramid courts. She considered taking the players’ entrance but decided to first get a view of the situation. She yanked the spectators’ door open and was hit by a wall of sound. The tiny stadium was packed with off-duty pilots and marines. She had to push her way through the crowd to get a view of the action on the court. The game was in full swing. Lee and Sam were stripped to nothing but shorts, padded gear and shoes. They were both slick with sweat.
Sam had his back to the wall in the neutral recovery box. A recent two point goal by Lee must have given him possession. He was tense and ready in the box, waiting for Lee to offer some quarter. But Lee didn’t look like he intended to back off. Kara glanced at the penalty clock. Sam was running out of time. If he didn’t leave the recovery box soon he would start losing points. Lee flashed enough teeth for a shark as he made tiny come-on motions with the fingers of both hands. Seeing the gesture, Kara grimaced. She’d seen it before, usually a few seconds before Lee started cracking heads.
Sam let the clock hit the final second. Then, he exploded into action. He was amazing to watch, lithe as a cheetah in full flight. He sprang forward and dove under Lee’s guard. Lee turned but too slowly. Sam rolled along the floor, scrambled up, dashed to the nearest basket and scored. The ball broke from the chute into his hand. His momentum carried him beyond the court and on up the wall for a few steps. He twisted, doing an aerial cartwheel. Kara couldn’t help cheering. Finding his feet, he feigned left before surging right. Lee spun trying to keep up with his speedy opponent but Sam was too quick for him. He scored three more singles, always keeping possession.
Desperate to stop Sam’s momentum, Lee stepped into his path and took an elbow to the ribs. The blow knocked some wind out of him but he didn't go down. Instead, he grabbed Sam around the waist. Sam tried to break free but Lee picked him up bodily and tossed him to the floor. Sam hit the deck with a grunt, all the air leaving his lungs. He stayed down, staring up at the ceiling as Lee recovered the ball and scored another double.
The crowd shouted out ‘foul’ and ‘illegal tackle.’ Sam signed for a time-out, teeing with both hands. He struggled to stand, obviously in some pain. Kara shook her head and, one eye still on the game, started edging toward the exit. She had to break this up before anyone got seriously hurt.
Toying with the ball, Lee waited for Sam to recover. It took Sam awhile to gasp out his complaint. And when he’d finished, Lee shrugged, unimpressed. Kara wished she could hear what they were saying to each other. As the exchange continued, it grew more heated and she grew even more concerned. She began ordering people out of her way. If the look on Lee’s face was any indication, things were going to turn violent very soon. She needed to get down there and buffer the explosion.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You can’t use a throw tackle. That’s a loss of point,” Anders gasped. He was bent double, hands braced on his knees as he tried to get air.
“Oh, sorry,” Lee said, without a touch of remorse. As he waited for Sam to come back from the tackle, he did another one-handed flourish with the ball. “Not really my game.”
“What is your game, exactly?” Anders asked, straightening.
He limped slowly to the neutral recovery box. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as Lee shifted from foot to foot impatiently. Neutral recovery rarely resulted in a turn over. Lee would have to find another way to get the ball back. Anders took his set position. Lee threw the ball at him with so much force catching it hurt. Anders was starting to wish he’d never come down to the gym, never thought of this challenge, but he wasn’t about to give up.
“Truth and consequences,” Lee said.
“Not familiar with that one,” Sam admitted, rolling the ball back and forth as he tried to gauge Lee’s weaker side. “But I’m guessing it’s nothing like charades.”
“No. It’s a sport, very physical. I learn the truth about something. And you take the consequences.”
Sam straightened at the unvarnished threat. His line of sight swept to the seats filled with observers but he failed to find a friendly face. He could barely make out individuals through the heavy glass but he knew most of the gym regulars were Viper pilots and Colonial Marines. A crowd like that would be completely loyal to their commander. They were enjoying the game but they might enjoy a brawl even more. Sam tried to laugh off the implication of Lee’s remark.
“Sounds a little one-sided to me.”
“It’s good to be in command,” Lee said softly.
There were only two seconds remaining on the penalty clock when Sam ventured out of the box again. He scored but predictably went down for his troubles. Lee’s tackle was perfectly legal, this time, a hard push out of bounds. But it was timed so a metal backboard intersected with Sam’s face. The bloodshed could have been accidental but Sam didn’t think it was. He wanted to call for another break but didn’t. His head was spinning and he was starting to get seriously pissed. He tried to staunch the flow of blood from a cut above his eye by pressing two fingers into his brow.
“You need to back the frak off,” he snapped as Lee crowded him again.
“Or?”
“Or we’ll call this game off.”
“Surrender? I guess that’s your answer to everything.”
“Unlike you and your father.. I don’t have one answer for everything.”
Anders broke around Lee’s defense to score another point. He scooped the ball into his hand, spun like a shot-putter and fired the ball back at Lee’s head. This time Lee ducked, letting the sphere bounce off the far wall. A few of the spectators groaned as both men scrambled for the free ball. Lee fell on it. Sam tackled him and they rolled over one another to the center pyramid.
Lee took the ball out of play by grounding it. The defensive move stopped the clock but Lee waited a scant moment before he bulldozed over Anders to score another double. On the way to the goal, he caught Sam in the mouth with a casual, unpadded elbow. Blood spurted.
“Frak! You son of a…”Anders moaned.
His eyes filled with tears as his hand went to his mouth. After touching his lip gingerly, he glanced at his blood coated fingers. Rage took over and he charged, his momentum carrying the heavier Lee into the wall.
“What the frak is your problem,” Anders bellowed, avoiding Lee’s knee to his groin by a quick jump backward. He landed a kidney punch, causing Lee to shove him away and resume a parody of their game.
“You’re costing me the best pilot in the fleet,” Lee said as he scooped up the loose ball. “And I just don’t like you.”
“Kara? This is…?” Sam began. His mind cleared a little and he stepped back, denying Lee contact with him. “No, wait, of course, this is about Kara.”
Lee didn’t like the smug tone Anders was using. “What the frak does that mean?”
“You found out about the baby,” Anders circled Lee, keeping out of reach. “Don’t bother denying it.”
“I wasn’t planning on denying it.”
“Right. You’re in therapy now. No more denial. So, what is it? Did she need your permission to get laid? You got to sign off on some paperwork?”
“I don’t care what the two of you do. Frak her on the wing of her viper if you want. But I need her in the air, not nursing your whelp.”
“It might surprise you to learn some of us don’t care what you need.”
“She cares.”
“Yeah,” Anders snorted derisively. “You know, Helo told me you’re like a brother to her. Makes me wonder what kind of twisted family dynamic he has.”
“You’re walking a thin line, now.”
“Am I?” Anders mocked. “Well, out the air lock with me, Commander.”
Lee met his eye. “Kara and I go way back. You should keep that in mind.”
“Why? You going to break us up?” Sam shook his head. He leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice to say, “I don’t think so. You don’t have that kind of pull.”
“I haven’t tried…yet.”
“Yes, you have. You’ve tried and failed and now you’re trying again, even though you got another woman pregnant. You ever think that’s why Kara is with me…because you’re such a two-timing loser?”
“You bastard…you Cylon sympathizing, motherfrakking little…”
Lee cocked his arm for a punch but he didn’t get to throw it.
As he drew back, his elbow connected with Kara’s cheek, just below her right eye. She’d taken the stairs in a hurry and rushed across the court to get between him and Anders before their war broke out. There was a sickening note of flesh cracking into flesh. The force of Lee’s unintentional blow spun her off track. She staggered sideways. Lee jerked away from the blow and turned, all of the color draining from his face as he realized what he'd done. He reached out a hand, pleading with Kara not to fall but it was too late. She collapsed, sitting down hard.
There was a collective gasp from the spectators. And then, Sam Anders pushed by Lee and went to her. He cradled Kara in his arms, cooing over her as Lee beseeched her with his eyes.
Please be okay. Please forgive me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dee hitched a ride to the Pegasus with Helo and after learning Lee was at the gym let herself into his apartment. It was warm and quiet. She showered, enjoying the luxury of very hot water pounding her into relaxation. Once she was dry and comfortable, she slipped a silk, lace robe over her naked body. Then, she curled up on Lee’s bed with a good book to wait. She must have dozed because the next thing she heard was the sound of the hatch door clanging closed.
She sat up hurriedly but moved cautiously to the smoked glass partition that screened the bed alcove from the living area. She could hear ice hitting a glass. As she peered around the corner, Lee splashed bright green ambrosia from a decanter. He had a blue folder in his other hand but threw it onto the desktop with so much force it skidded and fell to the floor. Setting the decanter down with a bang, Lee gripped the desk edge with both hands. Head low and shoulders hunched, he took a deep breath and then another before letting go and picking up his drink. Dee saw him toss the booze back in one gulp.
He poured another drink, stalked to the sofa and sat down. But he couldn’t sit still. His head turned until he was staring at the file folder on the floor. A second later he stood up again and threw his glass across the room. It shattered, splashing ambrosia in an arc on the far wall.
Dee drew back in alarm. She’d miscalculated. Come at an awkward time. It wouldn’t do to be associated with whatever had upset him. She crept quietly back to the bed and, as carefully as she could, started changing back into her uniform. She’d fastened her bra and was stepping into her panties when Lee rounded the corner and caught her.
He paused, startled and angry. His hot gaze swept over her bare skin, lingering on the patch of dark hair she hastily covered with her briefs. He smiled but not happily. Dee swallowed hard. Lee had never looked at her in quite this way before. He seemed bigger, more commanding. She didn’t like it one bit. Her nipples were hard, uncomfortable knots and there was a churning in her lower abdomen. She reached for her negligee, hoping he wouldn’t notice her hands shaking. She wanted to be back in command of the situation and imagined the clothing would help. But Lee closed the distance between them in three or four strides and ripped the flimsy material from her hands.
“You won’t need that,” he growled, tossing the silken garment to the ground. His free hand gripped the back of her neck, holding her like a kitten by the scruff.
She froze, too shocked by this brutality to even protest. Ice water seemed to trickle through her veins as Lee kissed her. His mouth was so hard on hers she tasted blood. At first she was sure he’d injured her. But as he broke away she realized his lip was cut. He’d been fighting. Dee’s mind went immediately to Kara Thrace.
She knew Lee generally came to her after fighting with Kara. But he’d never brought the fight with him before. He’d always wanted tenderness and care after Kara worked him over. And Dee had been happy to oblige because he'd always seemed intent on her, totally aware. This time he was almost blind to her. His eyes were half-closed and unfocused as if he were dreaming. His fingers groped her mercilessly, pinching and shoving. Dee thought she might scream but she managed to squeak out a breathy ‘yes’ when he wrenched her underwear to her knees. A minute later she wished she’d remained quiet.
Lee seized her shoulders and spun her. Then, he pushed her face down on the bed, freed his erection and took her from behind, slapping against her flesh. Dee’s fear melted away into disgust. She concentrated every bit of her cunning on relaxing and moaning appropriately but she was soon bored. She laid still and quiet, waiting. Lee couldn’t seem to bounce and she lost patience with him. Only her plan kept her from getting up and leaving. The position did nothing for her. She rested her cheek on her hand and thought about being home again, with her father and her mother among the green hills of Sagittaron.
Eventually, Lee finished. Dee slithered away from his attempt to cuddle and excused herself to the rest room. She picked up her negligee on the way, keeping her eyes averted. She had no intention of letting him get away with this kind of behavior. She waited for him to come to her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After wiping himself clean with a tissue, Lee zipped up his pants and sprawled on the bed. He waited for Dee to return with some apprehension, wondering why he felt completely unsatisfied. She didn’t come back. Finally, he sighed, got up and went to the closed bathroom door.
“Are you okay?” he asked through it.
“Of course,” Dee said, coolly. “I’m just a little tired. I’ve had morning sickness all week. I shouldn’t have come….”
“Oh, Gods, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about the…”
He couldn’t bring himself to say the word: baby. Kara was going to have a baby. She would be with Sam Anders forever. Lee pinched the bridge of his nose as leaned his head against the doorjamb. He didn’t want to cry but it felt like he might.
“Dee? Really, I am sorry, I was just,” he paused. What could he say? “I was just so happy to see you.”
He needed her to forgive him. Forgive him for enjoying himself…for taking what he wanted. He realized how pathetic that made him but he couldn’t face losing his own child while Kara went on loving Anders. Dee, at least, needed him.
“It’s okay,” she said, at last. She cracked the door an inch and peered out at him. “I’m sure you needed the release. Are you feeling better?”
A tiny pang touched Lee’s heart. He’d been too rough. He’d disappointed her. And why? Because he was angry at Kara? Dee was a nice girl. Not some Viper jockey, who lived to fight and frak. She was a sensitive, sweet girl and he’d made no effort at all to please her. He reached a hand toward her cheek but paused when he saw her flinch.
“Hey,” he coaxed gently, “What do you say to a few of your things over here? You could make this place a home?”
Her eyes lit up as the idea took root. Lee smiled, resolutely pushing away any thought of Kara, transferring back to Galactica and then moving in with him. He needed to think about Dee and his baby. This was his future. He’d already spent too much of his life thinking about the one woman who was never going to think about him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kara couldn’t stop thinking about Lee, about the stricken look in his eyes when he saw her falling. She could still see his face as she looked into the mirror and gingerly probed the bluish bump on her cheek. She couldn’t help recalling the last time she’d taken a blow to the face. Lee had been there. A few hours after her promotion to Captain, they’d been jumped by three Pegasus roughs on their way to a briefing.
After the brawl, Lee had iced her bruises. His fingers had lingered, stroking over her skin, and his thumb had teased her lower lip open so he could see the cut inside it. She’d felt a wash of affection for him and a stirring heat in her belly. Seeing the warmth in her eyes, he’d smiled down at her and they’d melted into one another, bodies aligning, breathing as one. It had been one of the few times Kara had been sure of Lee’s love.
“Your friend is completely off his rocker, you know?” Sam said, drawing her back to the present. “I’m going to speak to the Admiral.”
“What? Why?”
“He hit you, knocked you down. What if you’d lost the baby?”
Kara sighed, turning away from her reflections to address the problem. “It was an accident, Samuel. And babies aren’t that easy to lose.” She crossed the room to take his hand. “I’m fine. But you’re not.” She tilted her head, grimly studying the damage Lee had inflicted. One of Sam’s eyes was swelling closed. His nose was probably broken. “You’ve got to stay away from Lee. Don’t let this escalate.”
“I want you off this ship,” Sam insisted. “I think he’s dangerous.”
Kara frowned, considering her options. She wondered, now, if she should tell Lee the truth. Would it solve anything? She intended to abort the pregnancy anyway, hope that Artemis would forgive her. At least, she was fairly sure that’s what she would do. She couldn’t imagine herself at a desk for seven months. She also couldn’t imagine Lee letting her fly into her second trimester, even carrying Anders baby. Nor was he likely to let her raise his baby with Anders. Lee was going to interfere. It’s what he did.
“Lee and I have been friends for a long time,” she said. "He would never intentionally hurt me." She wasn’t sure if she was addressing Sam or her own misgivings.
“Friends?” Sam Anders couldn’t believe his ears. “He pushes you around, Kara. I’ve seen him do it and I’ve heard stories from some of the crew. He treats you like some kind of perpetual screw-up. And as far as I can tell you’re the best thing on this ship.” Kara blinked and then laughed but Sam shook his head. “I’m serious.”
“I know,” Kara soothed, stroking a hand along his shoulder. “But what happened today…it was just a pilot thing…blowing off steam. Lee didn’t mean to hurt me.”
“I get that. I get that he doesn’t like the peace delegates and that he dislikes me in particular. But I don’t’ think it will matter if he ‘means to hurt’ you or not…after he’s done the damage. I don’t know why he thinks he can…but he treats you like you’re his personal property.”
“I’m not.”
“I know that…but he doesn’t seem to.”
Kara considered for a moment and then nodded. “Okay,” she said, turning so abruptly away from Sam that he took an unintentional step forward.
“Okay? Okay what?”
With one hand on the door, Kara paused, looking back over her shoulder. “You’re right. I’m going to ask for a transfer.”
Sam waited until she’d gone and then retrieved his duffle from the floor by the closet. He sat the bag on the bed but didn’t open it. Running his fingers along an outer seam, he revealed a hidden panel. Behind the panel was a small wireless communication device. Sam removed it from hiding, flipped it open and waited. There was a faint ringing sound from the open device.
A few seconds later a voice answered his call with a single word, “Minotaur.”
“Everything is in place,” Sam said and immediately broke the connection.
END THIS PART