The Galactica ready room looked like it had been hit by a tornado.

Empty bottles and other scattered debris littered its floor. Half-full cups of forgotten alcohol had been left behind on every stable ledge; and some that weren't so stable, judging by how sticky the place was. Kat's boots crunched on broken glass as she stumbled past an overturned bench, carrying a mug in each hand. She was singing softly to herself.

"And we'll never give up, we'll never go down. Give us a kiss and we'll buy the next round."

Helo had taught all the pilots the song earlier in the night, when the celebration over Scar's defeat had been well underway. He'd learned it in flight academy, apparently. The frakking thing had fifty-two verses, and no one but him and Starbuck could remember more than three. As drunk as Kat was currently, she was lucky to have retained half of one. Most of the other Viper pilots could chug booze like it was water, and proved their abilities on a regular basis, but she rarely drank at all unless there was something to celebrate.

And she certainly had something to celebrate tonight. Not only did she take down Scar, the seemingly-invincible raider that had slaughtered so many of her friends, but she had won her bet with Starbuck, finally knocking the hotshot pilot down a peg. Seeing the look on her face as she was forced to fill Kat's cup in front of the entire squadron almost made all the anger and frustration worth it. Almost.

Although she'd never admit it to anyone else, for a minute there Kat had wanted to take the bet back, to tell Starbuck to forget about it. It made her a little uncomfortable to see her humiliated, especially when she knew she never would have gotten close to Scar without Starbuck's help. Kat had wondered whether she would refuse to honor their agreement. Her entire body had tensed up when Starbuck approached her, ready for a blow or for the bottle of wine to be thrown back in her face.

But none of what she imagined had happened. The moment had passed – Starbuck flashed her one of those irresistible grins and filled the cup right up to the brim. Then, while everyone had been cheering Kat's victory, she'd made an unexpected toast to all the fallen pilots. Named them off, one after another, in perfect order and without missing a one.

If I had died, Kat had wanted to say, out there, chasing Scar, would you have remembered my name? Would you have remembered the insubordinate rookie who punched you in the jaw? Who frakked up a landing because she was too jacked up on stims to see straight? Who's been nothing but a pain in your ass from day one?

Yesterday, Kat wouldn't have been sure. Now she was.

She shut her eyes and drained the mug in her left hand in a single gulp, then tossed it on the floor and looked around. Most of the crew had shuffled blearily off to their racks hours ago, but a few groups of stragglers still hung around, smoking and talking. Chief Tyrol, Hotdog and Gaeta were playing cards at one table with a couple deckhands Kat didn't know.

Starbuck sat alone at the other table next to a passed-out Helo. She was staring wistfully into her empty cup, ignoring the loud cheers and groans emanating from the group of card players behind her. It suddenly occurred to Kat to bring the captain another drink. Still giddy from the night of partying, and with a significant amount of alcohol coursing through her system, the thought that she might want to be left alone never came.

Once the decision was made there was no questioning it. Kat made her way across the room, swaying harder than a Raptor with one missing engine, and plunked the second mug right in front of her. Starbuck glanced up, looking moderately surprised. She really had been lost in her own thoughts, it seemed.

"What's this?"

"I thought you looked a little thirsty."

The other woman gave her an unreadable look. "Did you now."

"Mm-hmm." Kat put her hand on her hip, partially because she thought it looked cool and partially to keep herself from falling over. She decided to concentrate on keeping her feet attached to the floor. "Call it payback for the one you poured me earlier."

"You earned that one," Starbuck said, leaning back on her elbows. "And trust me, I've had plenty tonight."

"Racetrack beat you in the chugging race, though, eh? Saw that one. You're an embarrassment to the fleet, captain."

"Oh, I let her win." It was Kat's turn to express disbelief. "Poor girl's been sore ever since I kicked her ass at poker a couple weeks ago. I figured it was best to even the score before I woke up dead in my rack."

"You're getting soft in your old age."

Starbuck smirked. "Well, frak. Guess so."

How long had it been since they'd bantered like this, without that bitter anger beneath all the jokes? Had it ever been like this? Kat didn't know, but it felt good. Better than good. She suddenly felt full of energy, more than she'd had in weeks.

Trying to express some of this feeling to Starbuck, Kat leaned over to put a friendly hand on her shoulder, but lost her balance and ended up tumbling over the bench and landing halfway in the other woman's lap.

"Whoa now. Careful!" said Starbuck, grabbing Kat's arm.

Kat's cheeks were flushed with embarrassment as she scrambled off. She meant to scoot a safe pace away on the bench, but Starbuck's grip on her elbow prevented her from moving more than a few inches.

"I'm sorry. Sorry. I didn't – I might be a little tipsy."

Starbuck just looked amused. "You might know how to handle a Viper, but you sure as hell can't handle your liquor. Guess I'm still tops at that."

Kat stuck her tongue out, provoking a loud laugh from the other woman. "You're still holding on to my arm," Kat pointed out. "Afraid I'll get away?"

"Afraid you'll try to get up and crack your idiot skull on the table, more likely," she replied, letting go anyway. Kat regretted saying anything as soon as she did. As odd as it was, the momentary contact had felt... intense, somehow, as if flames had suddenly broken out from the embers too much alcohol had put under her skin.

"Well, you can hold on to anything else," Kat continued. "But I need that arm to drink." To illustrate this, and because she could feel Starbuck staring at her, she snatched up the mug and took a deep swallow, forgetting what she had filled it with. The wave of hard liquor hit the back of her throat all at once, causing her to choke and sputter. Eyes watering madly, Kat could do nothing for the next several seconds but cough uncontrollably while Starbuck laughed her ass off.

"It's not funny," Kat gasped out when she finally had some measure of breath back. "Stop laughing at me!" The blonde paid no attention to her and continued cracking up like it was the funniest thing she'd seen in her whole life. Hitting her on the shoulder only made her laugh harder. Finally Kat grabbed Starbuck's head with both hands and brought the other woman's face right up next to hers, trying to get her attention.

"Stop laughing!" she repeated helplessly, chuckling herself at the ridiculous scene she must have made. "I swear if you don't stop I'll–"

That was when Starbuck kissed her, and she was too shocked to finish the rest of the sentence. A split second of wordless indecision, and then she returned the kiss with sudden force. She didn't think, or try to speak. She had become driven by a single desire, to make sure the feeling of these other lips on hers did not disappear, that this strange electricity continued to consume her, lift her higher than she had ever been before. Her lips opened slightly on some unconscious impulse; she felt the other woman's tongue flick against her teeth, felt the soft bite of Starbuck's own teeth against her bottom lip. With every further second the kiss lasted, the urge to pull her closer intensified, to somehow occupy the same space, although she knew it was impossible.

At last they separated, breathing heavily. The sound of a disappointed groan nearby reminded Kat that she was in a public place, publicly making out with a superior officer. In a panic, she whipped around to face the card players, but they were all staring intently at the center of the table. Gaeta sighed loudly and tossed down his hand as Tyrol, grinning, swept a pile of winnings towards himself.

"I'm going to lose my shirt," Gaeta groaned.

"Not that, maybe," said Tyrol cheerfully, "but everything else for sure."

Unbelievably, not a single one of them had noticed.

"What do you say we treat ourselves to a little time in the rack?" Starbuck whispered in her ear. Kat relaxed and allowed the other woman to pull her to her feet.

"Yes, sir."