Intruder.
AN: Just something I came up with, written down for you to enjoy. This is from Dee's POV.
Disclaimer: Not mine. They're not even in my galaxy...oh well. Enjoy.
It should have been easier. It should have been like all marriages. A woman loving her man and the man loving her right back. It's been done this way for centuries and you'll probably never really understand why you couldn't have it that way.
Because you love your man and he loves you right back.
But he still loves another more.
It's not like you didn't know. There's always been something about the two of them. Kara Thrace and Lee Adama. Apollo and Starbuck. You'd heard the stories even before you saw them perform. Whoever had called it the sexiest thing he'd ever seen, was certainly right. They were poetry in motion and it didn't take much imagination to picture them together for the real thing.
And yet…there were so many barriers between them, the ghost of his beloved brother and her fiancé just being one of them. So when push came to shove (with them, that could be taken literally sometimes), they were friends at best and antagonists at worst, all sexual tension and innuendo notwithstanding.
At first, their little dance, their perpetual playacting meant nothing to you. Lieutenant (then Captain, then Major) Adama was a superior officer and during CAP routines and battles a detached voice over the line you needed to direct. Looking back, you even liked those moments where Galactica's golden duo forget they weren't on a private line and their banter got playful, with all the sexual undertones one could think of.
There were enough pilots none too quietly convinced their CAG and his second in command were frakking each other's eyeballs out, because, honestly, how could they not? No denial on their part helped stem the flow of gossip. And a game of triad, a bottle of ambrosia, some sex and all the gossip surrounding it, were all the relaxation the tired pilots had these days.
So yes, it was nothing but a little fun, even to you. Until something shifted. You were learning some basic self defense maneuvers. Lee became your sparring partner. And suddenly, despite of yourself, you saw why he was nicknamed Apollo. Being this up close and personal to such an incredibly hot male specimen brought a tingle in your body poor Billy never could have reached.
All of a sudden, the stakes were higher. You wanted him. For yourself. You were very much aware that your one competition was hard to beat, but you were determined to have him. Perhaps you were intruding on their little space, but again, you ignored all DRADIS signals in your own head and went forward with your pursuit.
The only way you knew how to get about it, was to be there every single time Starbuck let him down, which was often enough. It might not have been the ideal role to play, but soon you figured you were becoming more than a shoulder for him to cry on whenever his self-proclaimed better half would refuse to play by the rules.
Slowly but surely you showed him you were way more compatible to him than she could ever be. You wouldn't drive him into madness, into blinding anger with random acts of defiance. You'd be standing by your man as any good partner should. And though you knew that his passion for Kara came from that same defiance, that same antagonism, you hoped the peace and quiet you offered instead, would drive him to you.
A safe haven, that's what you would be. Every time she frakked up. Until the moment would inevitably come that she would frak up for good.
And then she did. After all she had put him through, refusing him, marrying someone else behind his back, was the straw that broke the camel's back. He came running to you and you rejoiced. You won. Lee Adama was finally and truly yours, the competition well taken care of.
So you were married. A simple ceremony conducted by a priestess and with his father giving you away. You were wearing a pretty white dress borrowed from a civilian you befriended and he looked handsome (if not a little distracted) in his best uniform. He hackled on his vows, but you pushed the inkling of doubt away, filing it as stage fright, conveniently forgetting that Lee "Apollo" Adama had never stuttered or hackled before and never with her.
No! Not anymore! Starbuck was out of the equation. She was far away from the home you carefully created at Pegasus, without her commission, without the love or even the merest hint of friendship between her and her one true other half. Who would now, forever, be your other half. And not even a blink of a thought about her would ruin your day. Or any day after.
How foolish of you.
You should have known that no physical distance, no psychological barrier was big enough for the omnipresent shadow of your husband's former best friend. No matter how hard you tried, your union was doomed before you exchanged your vows. The marriage was as empty as the pilot's bunk room. As empty as Captain Adama's heart was for you.
You were never enough. Whatever you did, it was not what he was looking for. He missed the good old days of being Galactica's CAG, of flying vipers and killing Cylon raiders. Of frakking Kara Thrace, with either a spacecraft, with his eyes or for real. It didn't matter he was in charge of his own battlestar when the halls of said ship were empty and hollow and there was no sign of danger, meaning also no sense of excitement. Your oh so composed husband is an adrenaline junkie deep down and he needed more to do than just sit around, doing useless paperwork and eating more and more in an attempt to keep his mind off of things.
Or rather, off of her.
Anger notwithstanding, you knew he missed her. With everything he put in his mouth, with every order given, with every night he reluctantly did his duties as a husband, she was still there. He couldn't keep himself in shape for you. You were still, as you always were, second best. A shoulder to cry on and as the tears dried, not even useful for that.
Damn the woman! So far away and still intruding.
How much longer could this last?
It was, of course, a fateful question to ask, for then it went all haywire. Seemingly out of nowhere, the Cylons were back, occupying the settlement on New Caprica, with its president not doing anything to stop it.
Things were dire down on the planet under Cylon occupation and from the sporadic contacts you had, you heard one horror story after another. People were being captured, slaughtered, tortured or getting sick. There was mutiny and rebellion all over, but those in the resistance were ill-equipped and often ratted out by scared people or those looking for a deal.
And Starbuck: she was missing. Presumably taken by the Cylons, but nobody, not even her husband, knew where she was being held prisoner and what they were doing to her.
Despite of his anger, you saw the change in him. Starbuck was in danger and he would rather have her alive to torment his memories than dead when she would still torment him, but where there was no way of redemption.
You were never asked a thing. The silence was hollowing out the shell that was your marriage. Every time her name did not get mentioned, every time he heard nothing from the reports that brought them any clue about her current situation, Lee grew more broody, wearing his worry for her like a cloak.
Again, even without knowing it, the mere memory of Kara Thrace permeated your private rooms. Intruding on your union.
At least you didn't have to keep up appearances in the bedroom any longer. He was as repulsed by your dark skinned body (so stark in contrast in comparison to the creamy whiteness of hers) as you were by his sloppy fatness.
Galactica (and thus Pegasus) held out as long as it could, until the only choice left was to sacrifice one ship to create a safe way for the stranded population of New Caprica to make their escape.
It worked , and you are relieved it did, really you are. But the rescue mission did have its hefty price tag. One was the Pegasus, going down, taking your husband's commission with it. He's back to being CAG on board of his father's ship, demoted to Major. But somehow happier too.
Helo's whipping him back to shape and soon enough, he's a God in both body and name once more. He's exuding confidence again, in his element with the familiar tasks on his duty roster. There are CAP rotations to fly and plan, civilians to check and replace and provide for. And skirmishes to referee and decide on.
At the head of those skirmishes: one Kara Thrace.
Yes, she's back too, along with her attitude, her arrogance, her lack of either decorum or discipline and her eye on your man.
And her own man. Sometimes you want to ask her if she even remembers him. Sam Anders, the man she couldn't wait to marry after everything she shared with Lee Adama, leaving him broken hearted at your doorstep. Sam Anders, reflecting your pain in his eyes. He's suffered from Lee's shadow hanging over his relationship too.
You used to be grateful to her for walking out on him like that. Now you're not so sure, having come to the conclusion that he's simply incapable of loving you, because of her. Because she broke him.
Still, your pride demands of you that you keep your chin up. You're still, for better or worse, Mrs. Lee Adama, no matter how many times you catch her whispering behind your back. You barely control the urge to yell at her that Lee's only sleeping in the pilot's quarters again because of the lack of space and because it's more convenient now that he's CAG again. As it is, you ignore her. Why should you have to explain yourself to her?
Why should you have to explain yourself to yourself?
Carefully measured days go by and all aboard adjust as well as can be expected to the new status quo, when the Admiral, in an attempt to boost the spirits of his worn down crew, orders a series of boxing matches.
You hate boxing, consider it a useless showcasing of strength, a barbaric sport with a lot of punches and no winners. Yet, you know Lee's immediately into it and even if your ties to him are dwindling, you won't deny yourself the pleasure of seeing his newly shaped body in all its glory. It's not like you get to see it up close and personal any longer…
He fights Helo and they're truly a match for each other. But as soon as they leave the ring, Stabuck's there to taunt him. With your eyes, you search his, trying to silently beg him to not give in, to not let her intrude again. AGAIN! Please, Lee, just walk away from her, like she has walked away from you.
Should have known he wouldn't listen. The challenge is laid there in front of him and it would be rubbing salt in his wounded pride for him to refuse, making her a winner by default. The clink of his dog tags dropped on top of hers seals the deal.
There's nothing clean about their fight and you watch in silent horror as the tragedy unfurls right in front of you, without any way for you to either prevent or stop it. Next to you, Sam leaves the room and you don't blame him. It's brutal, its carnage.
It's as much a declaration of love as these two are capable of and everyone is aware of it. Sam is, Helo is, the Admiral is.
And you.
As the two of them fall into each other's arms, exhausted and broken, but finally together and healed, the penny finally drops.
It's all over.
The sham of your marriage and hers are over. You've played and lost. She's fought and won.
As you too turn to leave, you wonder, like you had before you started chasing him: In the end, who was the intruder in this affair?
Looking back, now you know…
THE END
Hope you liked it. Feel free to let me know! Thanks!