A/N:This was a very late story written in response to a challenge on livejournal, gaetasquee, called "Whisper of Doom." Since none of the Gaeta fans were satisfied with the dropped storyline where Baltar whispers something in Gaeta's ear only to have Gaeta stab him in the neck with a pen (not that he didn't deserve it just for breathing. I'm just saying...). This was my first fanfic before I became addicted to fanfic completely.
I know several Cylons who enjoy torturing humans and I will send them to your house if you don't review.
Shameful Secrets
Naked, he slowly crawls across the hard floor, breath rasping, eyes burning and everything hurts. He knows Simon is behind him but thought, if he can just reach the cargo containers, slip in between them, maybe...
He feels Simon's fingers lace through his hair, tightening painfully as he yanks Gaeta off the floor, clamping an arm around his waist, pulling him close. Gaeta's stomach tightens, remembering what was done, anticipating what's to come. Pushing uselessly at Simon's steel grip on his body, Gaeta whimpers and tries to squirm away. Simon's breath tickles his cheek, lips moving against Gaeta's ear as he whispers...
"Shall I tell them how close you and Simon were?"
Baltar's falsely cultured tones bring him back to the present. A hard chair, a jail cell and fingers grasping his hair, holding his head still. Like Simon did. He knows Baltar isn't near as strong as the Cylon but still finds that he can't move, can barely breathe.
"Talk about how tight you were with the Cylon. What you did in exchange for information, medical supplies."
Gaeta's hands grip the table, knuckles white, eyes staring, unseeing, at the folder on the table, the papers strewn across its surface, a jumble of numbers and words, the pen...the pen...He blinks...
And suddenly finds himself standing, facing the cell door, holding a struggling Baltar with his arm around the man's waist. Like Simon did. Except that it's loud here. The president is in front of him, making calming motions with her hands and Gaeta's thoughts are too jumbled to understand why. Baltar makes a strange gurgling noise and Felix realizes his left hand is warm and sticky. The smell of blood reaches his nostrils. He sees the pen jutting out of Baltar's throat, his hand holding it like it was a lifeline of some sort. The pen, in Baltar's neck. How did that happen? When did that happen?
The pen in Baltar's neck; Gaeta struggling against Simon; Baltar making whimpering noises and Simon...Oh gods, Baltar traded him. Baltar frakking traded him for frakking drugs!
Gaeta never knew where Baltar had been getting the drugs before the Cylons came–some dealer on the streets, he supposed, or perhaps one of the constant stream of women that flowed through Colonial One. Didn't really matter. The brilliant scientist was completely useless as a political leader. Completely worthless and what burned Gaeta the most about it was that Baltar didn't care. He simply wanted to be king, to sit in his castle, drink booze, take drugs and frak women.
"Can't believe I believed in him," Felix thought disgustedly, as he straightened the pen holder on Baltar's desk and picked up a couple of folders. He would take them home with him and work through them, knowing that it was a waste of time. Baltar would barely glance at them tomorrow. The disorder and discontent that surrounded Baltar like a thick mist was an almost tangible irritation to Gaeta. He missed the neatness he'd surrounded himself with on Galactica, the routine of being in the military, and the comradery among the crew. Baltar's posturing, childish tantrums, and almost incessant whining had worn Gaeta's nerves raw since he'd realized that this was as good as it would get. Baltar's reputation was so tarnished at this point, Felix didn't see how the President would ever recover, if he even survived the occupation. Clenching his jaw and shaking his head in frustration, Gaeta slipped a stray piece of paper into the drawer and turned to leave.
The Simon Cylon was in the office talking with Baltar and Gaeta was planning on leaving as quickly and quietly as he could. That was one model that gave him the creeps. It didn't help that Felix frequently caught him staring. He was too tired to deal with this and he expected he'd be attending every meeting on the agenda tomorrow in Baltar's place. He walked unobtrusively across the room, passing Baltar and the Cylon but keeping his eyes firmly on the floor in front of him. Baltar was whining about something. What a surprise, Gaeta thought, cynically.
"I need them. I can't function properly as the President of the colonies if my nerves are shot."
Gaeta almost snorted. The man spent most of his time bouncing off the walls, when he wasn't frakking or too drugged or drunk to keep his eyes open.
"This particular...medication is rather addictive, President." Simon's quiet voice sent an unpleasant chill up Gaeta's back. He slanted a quick look at the Cylon from the corner of his eye. Of course he was staring. Talking to Baltar and staring at Felix. Gaeta quickened his pace even more. "I'm concerned you may end up not being able to control your need for it."
Baltar started to stutter a reply before falling silent. Gaeta made it to the door when he heard his name.
"Mr. Gaeta is very dedicated to his work," came Baltar's voice, surprisingly quiet compared to the shrill whining from before. Felix's eyes narrowed. What was he up to? He stepped quickly through the door and pressed his back against the wall, barely breathing so he could hear better.
"Mmmm," came Simon's noncommital reply. Where was this going? Felix wasn't sure he really wanted to know but found himself rooted to the spot.
"You seem rather...interested in him." Baltar again. "He's really a very good-looking and talented young man." Felix started, his breath hissing between his teeth. Was Baltar really implying what he thought? He wished he could see their facial expressions. That feeling was quickly replaced with a sudden desire to leave, melt into what passed for a city here and forget his responsibilities. Forget that the current President of the colonies couldn't actually function. Forget that this administration would probably crumble to pieces without someone with a little integrity doing damage control on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis. Forget that he was probably one of the few humans in any position to have inside information on the Cylons. Certainly the only one that gave enough of a frak to know that it would end up being a vital need if they were ever going to get out of this... And then Simon spoke again, and he found himself still listening, not wanting to hear the conversation but unable to move away.
"Is he? I've always expected he would be, although talent isn't really necessary for my needs." Gaeta's eyes widened.
"I'm sure we could arrange something that would be mutually amenable to both of us." Was Baltar actually trading him for the pills? This can't be frakking happening! Gaeta's mind started racing, culling through options, different scenarios, and possibilities and coming up with nothing that would help. He knew that if the rumors of a resistance were true, this was the one place he could be most effective. Walking out now meant throwing that away, but staying...he knew he wouldn't voluntarily submit to what they seemed to be agreeing on. But, no, he must be misunderstanding the conversation.
"I'm sure we could." Simon's voice sounded amused, as if he were humoring Baltar somehow. As if he needed Baltar's permission for something like that. Felix shivered, swallowing hard. Surely the Cylon really wouldn't agree to something like this. He'd put a stop to it soon. He had to.
"Naughty boy." Gaeta jumped, whirling around, his heart in his throat. He found himself acing one of the Sixes. She took a step closer, crowding him against the wall behind him.
"I was...I...the..." Felix desperately tried to think of some excuse, some reason for being caught in this position. The Six looked amused and intrigued. Placing her left hand flat against the wall next to Gaeta's neck and effectively pinning him in place without actually touching him, she leaned over to look through the door. He pressed even further into the wall to keep from touching her. His breath quickening, Gaeta watched Six's eyes narrow briefly then she turned to him, raising an eyebrow.
"Collecting blackmail material?" She asked in her sultry voice.
"Of course not!" Gaeta shot back hotly, angered at the implication.
"You wouldn't, would you?" She said wonderingly, as if she believed it were impossible for any human to be honest and straightforward. This wasn't the one they called Caprica Six, which seemed more human than all of the other Cylons, including the one he used to know as Boomer. Caprica Six, for some incomprehensible reason, seemed to be in love with Baltar; at least what passed for love from a toaster. Felix had seen her crying on several occasions in the scant month they'd been here. And Baltar always seemed to be the cause.
The Six that was almost fully pressing against him was more calculating, more manipulative, and a good deal colder. And she seemed to be enjoying his discomfort a bit too much. It was definitely time to get home, although his tiredness had been lost in a wash of adrenaline over the past several minutes.
"I really need to go," Gaeta whispered, hoping this was enough entertainment for her tonight and she wouldn't insist on dragging him in front of Simon and Baltar. He definitely wasn't ready to deal with that situation just yet.
His attempt to duck under her arm was halted as Six grabbed him and started pulling him through the door. No! he thought desperately. I need more time to think; to figure out how to stop this.
"...will be interested in hearing your explanation. I know I would," the Six was saying as she dragged him into the office to stand in front a smug looking Baltar and a chillingly satisfied Simon.
"Mr. Gaeta," Baltar began. "We have a new responsibility to add to your duties..."
"Mr. Gaeta!" Please stop shouting.
"Felix! I understand why you're doing this..." How could you possibly understand...
The light was harsh. Felix blinked several times, trying to clear the flashback from his mind. He could feel himself shivering and Baltar struggling against him. Commander Adama was barking something at him and he couldn't quite seem to make sense of anything anymore. His memories, his nightmares, kept weaving in and out of reality and the only thing he could mentally grasp at that moment is that Baltar traded him for drugs.
No more memories, he thought, wishing for something–anything–to calm his scattered mind. Then, thankfully, a blissful unconsciousness claimed him as Commander Adama's fist knocked him flat on his back.
