Author's Note: I posted this one especially for my bro-in-law; he wanted to see just how geeky I really am. Here's your proof, D!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Battlestar Galactica. Rest assured that if I did, it definitely wouldn't be as awesome as it is

Though the Galactica mess hall was crowded, Felix Gaeta sat at a table by himself, picking halfheartedly at the food on his tray. It had been a rough day. First, his alarm had failed to go off that morning, making him late for his shift in the CIC for the first time since… well, he couldn't remember the last time he had been late for anything. Then, he'd been subjected to one of Colonel Tigh's half-drunken tirades about duty and responsibility- as if the man had any room to talk. As far as Felix could tell, the XO had been coming in drunk lately more often than not. Of course, no one besides Starbuck dared point that out, especially in front of Admiral Adama.

But at the moment, Colonel Tigh was the least of Felix's worries. Just before his lunch break, he had been informed that he would now be taking over Gaius Baltar's research, effective immediately, which meant that any free time Felix might have had for however long it took to get to Earth had just been thrown out the airlock. Normally this wouldn't have bothered him -truthfully, he rather enjoyed that sort of work- but stress levels on Galactica after New Caprica were skyrocketing. Everyone realized that their lives were once again constantly in jeopardy, and that in all probability all they had to look forward to was months, possibly years of this. Of constant Cylon attacks, of living on the run, of nonstop military service with no shore leave and no R&R. And Felix was no exception to this feeling. On the contrary, he felt it now more than anyone. The mere thought that he might have to spend a good part of it trapped in Baltar's lab made him grimace.

And as if all this wasn't enough to deal with, there was still the fact that virtually no one aboard Galactica fully trusted him. Weeks after he had been pardoned and had returned to his old post, people still stared at him. Not as openly as they once did, it was true -perhaps nothing more than a furtive glance or a whisper here and there- but it still bothered Felix on occasion. He was tired of sitting alone, tired of feeling like an outcast. Sure, Chief Tyrol had made an effort to sit next to him for a while out of guilt; after all, he had been an influential part of the secret jury that had almost tossed Felix out an airlock. But that had lasted only long enough for the chief to clear his conscience, and then he was back to sitting with his friends again. Usually Felix simply accepted and dealt with the loneliness he felt, but today was different. Today, all he wanted was someone to talk to.

Felix gradually became aware that the noise in the mess hall had risen slightly beyond its normal buzz; the room was quickly filling up. Soon, almost all spaces at the tables were filled, but still no one sat beside him. Some latecomers even chose to stand around their friends rather than take a seat at Felix's table. Feeling increasingly more annoyed at every rejection, he began stabbing his fork into his food with unnecessary force. Just when he decided to give up and leave, he saw someone walking toward him out of the corner of his eye- Sharon Agathon. Figuring she would also choose to stand and was heading for the table full of pilots behind him, he started to get up.

But he was surprised when she said casually, "Hey Felix, don't leave yet. Can I sit with you?"

"Um… uh… s-sure," he stammered, taken aback. It was the first time in a long while that anyone had expressed any interest in being around him.

"You can put your tray back down, you know," Sharon commented as she took the seat next to where Felix had been sitting. "And maybe stop stabbing your food like you'd like to kill it." Amid the stares of many of the others in the mess hall, she proceeded to eat her lunch, virtually radiating nonchalance.

Felix nodded wordlessly, taking his seat once more. He couldn't help but stare at Sharon, questions floating around his mind. "Why?" he blurted after a moment, curiosity getting the better of him.

"It's not exactly normal," she answered, giving him a strange look. "Something bothering you?"

It took Felix a moment to realize that she was still talking about his lunch. He gave a quiet laugh, then amended, "Sorry, that's not what I meant. Why did you sit here?"

Sharon stopped eating for a few moments, shrugging indifferently. "I thought it was stupid to stand when you were there with a table all to yourself."

"So it wasn't out of pity or something?"

"Did you want it to be out of pity?"

"Not particularly." Oddly enough, Felix found the idea that she had sat with him simply because she didn't feel like standing more refreshing than the alternative. At least it meant she didn't care what others thought about it, or about him.

"Well, there you go." And with that, she resumed eating.

Felix glanced around, feeling his irritation return. People were staring openly now, and the dull roar of conversation had become more of a curious, hushed buzz.

Noticing his reaction, Sharon asked quietly, "Still bothers you, all of them staring at you, whispering. Gets old, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," muttered Felix darkly. "It does. I just want them to find something else to look at every now and then."

"I know the feeling. It lets up, though, after a while. You earn their trust again, no matter how long it takes, and sooner or later they stop staring. Well, most of them."

Dropping his fork involuntarily, Felix felt the realization sink in; of all the people on Galactica, Sharon Agathon was the one who understood his position the best. He gave a half-grin, which she returned in full.

"You've looked so melancholy lately. Just relax, do your job the best you can, and hang in there- it does get better. Eventually."

And despite everything, for the first time in what seemed like ages, Felix actually smiled.