Without looking up from his clipboard, Doc Cottle knows who stands beside him. He has no idea how she does it, considering there was only one kind of soap used on the whole of Galactica, but somehow instead of the usual rankness that might accompany any other crew member coming off a 14-hour work shift, Anastasia Dualla actually gives off an alluring sweet scent.
"He's been chewed up and spit out," he says. Cottle shifts his weight and flicks his eyes at a curtained partition, giving Dee all the information she needs from him. "Don't think he's slept for 36 hours and he refuses sedatives so take it easy on him."
"Understood. Thank you."
Dee eases away from the doctor, giving small thanks to the gods that he doesn't prolong their interaction. She pauses for the briefest of seconds in front of the heavy translucent plastic. Fixing on her face a look of benign cheeriness to mask her worry, she pulls the curtain back.
Cottle had been right to warn her - Felix Gaeta looked like hell. His face is slick with sweat and he stares, eyes unfocused, towards the water-stained ceiling above.
"Hey you," says Dee soothingly as she slides into the chair next to the hospital bed. "How are you feeling?"
He groggily swings his head towards her. His simple, empty expression slowly turns into delight.
"Oh thank gods you're here. I...." Gaeta looks around confused. "I...don't think I can make it to Professor Sykes' lecture today."
She raises an eyebrow and studies his face. His glassy eyed earnest expression tells her that he does indeed recognize her - but has placed her in another time. Professor Sykes had been a legendary figure at the Academy. Although she hadn't known Gaeta very well at the time, they had both taken the Professor's lecture series, Contemporary Issues in a Post Modern Caprican Society.
"Do you think you could lend me your notes?" Gaeta asks in a library whisper.
"Sure," Dee shrugs. She leans in closer. "For a bottle of ambrosia," she says in her sweetest voice, "consider it done."
Gaeta's face contorts in mock outrage. "Woman!" he groans.
Dee laughs, feeling the tension dissipate from her body.
Gaeta's lids begin to drop, succumbing to a sudden heaviness. He flips his hand over, exposing his palm. "Highway robbery," he drawls in a sleepy murmur.
Gradually the muscles in his face twitch, then slacken.
With Dee's delicate hand pressed into his, Felix Gaeta slowly drifts off into a restless slumber.