Hi y'all! After the interminably long hiatus caused by most of last semester, I at last make my return to the world of fanfiction! (It's insane how much I missed having time to just sit down and write this stuff.) Anyway, my birthday was a few days ago, so naturally I was inspired to apply that to my favorite muse, and this is the result. Enjoy!

Birthdays

His mother called him on his birthday. Their conversation was short and stilted – but at least they talked. It had only been a few months since the funeral, and Lee knew she was still drinking far more than she should, but she didn't sound drunk over the phone. He hoped she was doing better. He didn't ask.

He never heard from his father. His insides twisted with fury every time he caught himself staring at the phone, some small part of him wishing it would ring. He hated himself for it, for wanting to hear his father's voice. He was still so angry, still couldn't bear even the thought of again confronting his father face-to-face. But what kid didn't want to hear his dad wish him a happy birthday?

He spent the day alone. No little brother had been there to pound on his apartment door at some unholy hour of the morning until he was forced to get up and answer it, so he stayed in bed until noon. No little brother shoved a poorly wrapped gift into his arms and then hovered over his shoulder until he tore the paper off, so he had nothing to open. No little brother took him out for dinner and bought him drinks until he could barely stand, so he didn't leave his apartment. It took quite a few beers to make him stop caring.

I miss you, Zak.

Celebrating a birthday on the Atlantia was different. Very, very different.

"Hey, Apollo!"

Lee groaned as he was woken before the sun – or the battlestar equivalent thereof – by the raucous shout. What could they possibly want this early in the morning, anyway?

"Go back to sleep, you idiots!" he yelled back, tugging his pillow over his ears as he heard the sound of the pilots in question approaching his bunk. "And don't even think about – "

It was too late. One person grabbed the pillow, another took the blanket, and then he found himself being hauled unceremoniously out of bed by several pairs of hands. Someone slapped something down on his head. Reaching up, he discovered it to be a conical paper hat.

"Happy birthday, Apollo!"

Blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the light, he found that every other pilot in the room was wearing one of the hats as well. He shook his head, trying to hide his smile. "You guys are crazy."

"Come on, we had to do something drastic," one of the pilots answered. "We'd been dumping confetti on you for, like, half an hour, and you hadn't woken up yet."

Glancing back at his now vacant bunk, Lee found that it was indeed covered in copious amounts of brightly colored paper scraps and streamers.

"Why the hell – "

"In case you hadn't noticed, Apollo, we take celebrations very seriously on this ship," another pilot answered with a wink.

As the laughter that had been threatening finally burst out, Lee allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and dragged off down the hall to whatever it was that they had waiting for him in the pilots' ready room.

Because the ship was still quite close to Caprica, his mother managed to make a get a message through to him in the middle of the afternoon. She sounded much better than she had just a year before. She had quit drinking a few months before, and was now in a serious relationship for the first time since the divorce. Lee was looking forward to seeing her on his next shore leave.

It wasn't until much later in the day – in the evening, when most of the other off-duty pilots had drunken themselves into a stupor – that he had time to think about his brother and birthdays past.

He never let his thoughts stray to his father.

Lee woke to a nearly silent room. The only audible sounds were the quiet, even breathing of sleeping pilots and the soft hum of Galactica's engines. He closed his eyes again, wishing that he, like the rest of them, could forget what day it was. It had barely been a couple of months since the world had ended, for frak's sake. Birthdays weren't important anymore.

So I'm twenty-seven today. It's not like it really matters much, anyway.

He hadn't even bothered telling any of his new shipmates when his birthday was. After all, as Kara had pointed out to him in no uncertain terms, he was not their friend. He was their CAG.

He doubted they'd care, anyway.

Giving up on getting any more sleep, he left the bunk room well before reveille for a long run. By the time he got back, the other pilots were all rolling out of their bunks. No one said anything. He was neither surprised nor particularly disappointed, until Kara bumped his shoulder with a sleepy "'Morning, Apollo," and headed for the showers. Some small part of him had hoped she might remember – but given that she'd probably never known what day it was before the worlds ended, he decided this wasn't all that shocking.

The day trickled by just as slowly as any other. He flew a long, uneventful CAP, struggled to make some small headway on the mountain of paperwork that was currently occupying his desk, almost forgot to eat dinner – the usual. He saw his father for a few minutes when he stopped in CIC after his CAP, but their conversation was limited to matters of the fleet and little else. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Just as he'd done for the last two years, Lee tried to convince himself that he didn't care. After a while, he almost believed it.

He'd been closeted in his office wading through paperwork for an hour and a half and was beginning to consider calling it quits and taking some early rack time when an announcement was broadcast through the ship:

"Captain Adama to the pilots' ready room. Pass the word, Captain Adama to the ready room."

Lee put his pen down with a sigh, rubbing his eyes tiredly. What now? Maybe Starbuck had started a drunken brawl, and his dad had decided that it was the CAG's job to get it under control. Or maybe something had happened to throw off the CAP lineup for the week, and they needed him to come up with a new one. So much for that extra rack time…

Wishing with all his heart that he could just ignore the summons and go to bed, Lee left his office and resignedly headed for the ready room.

What happened when he at last opened the hatch was the last thing he expected: a wall of sound nearly knocked him off his feet as every pilot on the ship enthusiastically – and in many cases, drunkenly – shouted, "Happy birthday, Apollo!"

For a long moment, Lee could only stare in shock. "I – what?"

Laughter swept the room at what must have been the very confused expression on his face, and Kara appeared from the middle of the crowd, shoving a jar of Chief Tyrol's finest homebrew into his hand. "Oh, come on, Lee," she teased. "You didn't really think we'd all forgotten, did you?"

"Forgotten?" Lee laughed incredulously as he followed her into the midst of the celebration. "I never told anyone!"

"Maybe not," Kara conceded. "But Zak told me once."

"And you actually remembered?"

Kara smacked him lightly. "I'm not answering that. And anyway, I'm pretty sure your dad knows when his own kid's birthday is, Lee."

Lee stopped moving and caught her arm, spinning her around to face him. "My dad?"

"Yeah," Kara said, frowning slightly. "Your dad. This was his idea. He reminded me your birthday was coming up and said it would be good for everyone if we did something. We could all use some downtime, and you definitely deserve it. He even suggested using this room instead of the rec room because calling you to the rec room would be too obvious." She started to laugh, but stopped at the look on his face.

"He… he said that?" Lee asked in a small voice. "That I deserve it?"

"Yes, Lee, he said that," Kara answered, looking at him strangely. "Are you feeling all right?"

Lee didn't answer. His gaze was sweeping rapidly over the entire room, examining the crowd at large. "Why isn't he here?"

Kara shrugged, still watching him closely. "I don't know. I told him he should come, but he seemed to think you wouldn't want him here or something like that."

Lee was silent for a long moment, apparently mulling something over. Then at last, he pressed his drink into her hands, saying quickly, "I have to go."

"Are you kidding me – !"

"I'm coming back," Lee reassured her, rolling his eyes. "This'll only take a minute. I – I hope." And then he was out the door.

When Bill looked up from his paperwork and saw that the person who had just walked into his quarters was Lee, he had no idea what to expect. It had been some time since they'd had a real argument, but that was mostly because it had been some time since they'd last been alone in a room for more than a minute or two. And now it was Lee's birthday. Bill had suggested the party to Kara, had even helped her with a great deal of the planning, but he'd had no intention of actually going. It had been years since he'd been around for any of Lee's birthdays, and he doubted that Lee would care to see him there now.

But now here he was, standing in the middle of his father's quarters with what could only be described as a lost puppy expression on his face, when he should have been at his own birthday party.

Finally breaking the silence, Bill said cautiously, "Aren't you supposed to be in the ready room?"

"I just – " Lee's voice was barely audible. He cleared his throat nervously and tried again. "I just came from there."

"Why did you leave so soon?" Maybe the party hadn't been such a good idea; after all, Bill could hardly pretend to know much of anything about his son's preferences.

Suddenly finding it easier to stare at a point on the far wall somewhere above his father's head, Lee answered quietly, "Kara told me it was your idea."

So Lee wasn't happy about it, then. Bill tensed almost unconsciously, waiting for the anger.

"I thought you'd forgotten," Lee mumbled, now intensely interested in the floor. "But if the party was your idea, then why…" He took a deep breath and finally looked up at his father. "Why didn't you come?"

Bill let out a sigh of relief when he realized that there was no hostility in his son's eyes. Those baby blues that he'd grown so used to seeing hard as ice were now soft and confused. Because I didn't think you'd want me there, he thought. But what came out instead was, "Because I'm the commander. I wanted you and all of your pilots to be able to relax tonight. That's hard to do when your commanding officer is around." He tried to smile slightly. "Kills the mood."

Lee held his breath for a second, trying to hold the disappointment at bay and hoping against hope that there was more to his father's reasoning than that. There was just one more thing he could try…

Not once breaking eye contact, Lee said softly, "Then don't come as the commander. Just… just come as my dad."

Bill's heart soared at the request. Lee did want him there after all. Offering his son a genuine smile for the first time, Bill responded just as quietly, "You know, I think I just might."