It was the Twelve Worlds' most improbable friendship. He remembered standing in a corner on a family party watching them. Zak went out to get something for their mother, who was busy in the kitchen. He had no idea where his dad was. The Commander was no longer invited to the yearly celebrations by then.
They were chatting happily, just the two of them, nursing a glass of champagne each. Gianne was wearing a light pink dress that was just as feminine and delicate as she was. Kara had made the effort - for Carollanne, she said - and was also wearing a dress, an yellowish-green one that made her eyes stand out.
For the casual observer, there was nothing out of sorts with the pair of them. Two beautiful young women, the Adama brothers' girlfriends, talking, catching up. Nobody in his family even noticed anything odd with the picture. His aunt Anna walked by them, refilled their glasses, said something nice, they laughed, she went on, not blinking an eye.
He was not a casual observer, however. He knew Kara Thrace didn't belong in an yellowish-green dress. He could not, for the life of him, picture her in a dress shop uttering the words "I'll take this one, it matches my eyes". It had to be his mother's doing, that much he knew. If nothing else, that alone spoke volumes of how much she cared about his brother, if she was allowing their mother to pick her a dress.
He was puzzled. What the frak could the two of them possibly be talking about? Gianne knew absolutely nothing about vipers or weapons or sports or drinks or the military or any and all of the topics he ever heard Kara talk about, ever. He had imprinted on his mind the distinctive look she got whenever he started talking about vipers or weapons or sports or drinks or the military with her. Not annoyed - Gianne would never do that - but the look of someone who is not quite hearing anything, but thinking about something else entirely.
That was not the look she had as she talked to Kara. She looked interested, excited even. She listened, she replied, she commented and - Lee had to force himself not to gasp the first time he noticed it - she laughed. She matched Kara's infectious laugh, covering her mouth. He knew his girlfriend better than anyone. She was having fun.
And Kara? Kara didn't know about ballet or fashion designers or make up or any of the things Gianne liked enough to be this excited about. Could they be talking about him and Zak? He shuddered at the thought. Surely, he and Zak could not be this entertaining.
He had to find out. So when his aunt Anna caught him staring and went on to refill his glass, he took it as his cue to join them. He approached from afar, stealthly, so he could catch something about their conversation before they saw him.
He could never have guessed their subject.
They were talking not about vipers nor fashion designers but about… art.
Kara was going on and on about this new art exhibit Gianne had being bugging him to go with her for weeks and that he had so far dodged with an efficience only before seen in the cockpit.
"Seriously, it's amazing. Forget Lee, just give me a call next weekend, I'll go with you."
"You don't mind seeing it again?"
"Are you kidding me? I'll be going there at least a dozen times. You know the 'House of Gemenon' painting? I'm trying to grasp that for one of my works for, seriously, months. I need all the study I can get".
Lee almost spat his drink. Kara knew art. Kara painted. Kara and Gianne were going to an art exhibit together.
And they did. To that one and about a dozen more in the months that followed. They started to hang out at Kara and Zak's place, immersed in art books and documentaries and Kara's paintings.
It was the Twelve Worlds' most improbable friendship. And it happened. They became not only friends, but good friends. Confidants.
After the end of the worlds, when Kara had all but dragged him to a chapel to pray for the Gods he didn't believe in, she held his hand and prayed for Gianne. She asked for the Gods' protection of her soul. She asked them to find her a place near all the artists.
And then she prayed for Gianne and Lee's baby.
He stared at her dumbfounded. He stopped breathing. He felt like his guilt and his sadness and his bile and everything were going to choke him. He felt like dying.
She held his hand tighter. She prayed for the baby and his soul. Then she paused. And without looking at him she prayed for "Lee to understand that Gianne loved him and would have forgiven him, because she knew he was a good person that was scared and that none of what happened was his fault".
He stared at the candles.
And then he prayed too.