PART TWO

Author's Note: The following was written as a response to the BSG episode "Taking a Break from all Your Worries." I was just musing on what Felix Gaeta's big secret could be and came up with this. The POV switches from chapter to chapter, so just watch out for that. Oh... and there are time jumps and flashbacks... anyways: Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, yadda yadda. ;)


His voice was as sweet as I remembered it, like warm honey. It melted my cold heart with only one word, and I felt helpless under his icy gaze. I wanted to go to him, but how could I? He was the enemy now. How could I even be for sure it was him? I saw hundreds of copies of my lover every day, and I couldn't tell the difference between them.

Or at least I'm telling myself that. I looked at him, and I knew.

He was the only one that still existed in my heart, and I could feel my heart picking up its pace. It thumped excitedly in my chest, and it hurt.

Nothing he said could explain away what was happening around them. There had been a shooting at the temple, led by a five. How could anyone understand that there were variations among the families?

How can I even justify these feelings that are still tucked away in my soul?

I nodded. We could talk.

It was all we could do.


I knew he wouldn't recognize me at first. His eyes were glassy when he even dared to look my direction, his emotions hidden behind his impassive expression. What thoughts were being formed behind that impersonal stare? Why was he looking at me?

Had I called his name? It had been sitting on the tip of my tongue for days now, spilling out of my lips in a mournful whisper every time he trudged past without acknowledging my presence. I had wanted to call him every time I saw him. I wanted to reach out and grab his jacket, pull him into my arms and kiss away all of that pain.

Instead I shrunk back, the evolutionary lift of his eyebrows and the harsh glint in his eyes startling me. What had I been thinking?

"Lt. Gaeta," I managed, correcting my original use of his first name. "I need to talk to you." I pressed the edge of my shovel into the dirt so it stood up, and approached him. I spread my hands out to indicate my good nature, hoping he would understand the gesture, and not interpret it as asking for a hug. That would have been inappropriate. "Let's go a little away from here, please."

The use of the command might have been uncalled for, but I didn't want him to have an option. I needed to talk to him. But it wasn't safe here, in plain view of both of our people.

So we walked, my hand pressed between his shoulder blades as more than a suggestion.


Felix shifted as Baltar signed their fate into the hands of the cylons. Blood ink. Unbreakable. Words.

He looked again towards the Five, who smiled at him when their eyes met.

Not him.

Relief.

Felix looked out the window.


The door clicked shut, and both worlds were trapped outside.

Finally.

The word was heavy, dragging down the sigh that had accompanied it. Neither was quite sure who had spoken, their minds finishing the phrase together- silently- Alone. Finally Alone.

Together.

Finally alone together.


Alone. Felix gripped his short hair, huffing and pacing before collapsing on the nearest rack. Aaron was gone- his cell empty, as though he had never existed. His hand slipped down from the top of his head to cover his mouth, and he grabbed at his cheeks, squeezing them tight as he let out a quiet little moan. How could this be happening?

I've been feeling really strange, Felix. Waking up in places that I've never been before- a few halls away from the CIC- or down in the cafeteria- you know I only go in there with you. But I woke up under a table there once. Someone kicked me when they sat down, and then, to add to the punishment, she slapped me because she thought I was being fresh. Or maybe she thought I was drunk- whichever- it hurt, heh.

But there's nothing wrong with you, Aaron. You're just sleep walking. It happens. Maybe you did have a little too much to drink that night.

No, you don't understand. I think there's something going on. Like I'm doing something important. I feel important.

You are important, you dunce.

Felix, I mean it.

He had meant it, and now he was gone. There was nothing he could do to help him... a cylon.

Felix lurched, squeezed, and buried his wet face into a foam pillow.


Their lips touched. Electrifying, thrilling, familiar. They could taste each other and remember other times, better times- aboard the Galactica, where they should have been in each others arms. Not like this.

Aaron's hand raked Felix's curls, his eyes dripping as he pressed their foreheads together and shut his blue eyes. Felix was weeping too, and Aaron felt the presence of his cold hand against his cheek. He gasped quietly, and brought his other hand to rest over it- grip it tenderly, reassuringly. They were alone at last, and they were together.

The quiet peace would not remain forever, they both knew, and slowly they drew apart. There were chairs at the metal table, and they each took a seat, staring at each other shyly. Aaron began, sucking in a breath of air as a prelude to whatever he had to say. Felix sat in rapt attention, reaching over the expanse of the table- perhaps a foot- to join their hands again.

Aaron sucked his lip under in a little smile before beginning, losing the breath he had just taken. He made up for it with another one. With a sigh, he spouted it out. "I just need you to know that I didn't know, Felix. What we had was not a lie. I had no idea what I was... No idea. I thought they were just mistaken..." Put the blame somewhere else. "But Baltar, he knew from the beginning, didn't he? He was a traitor all along. How else would he have known? I had nothing to do with what happened on Caprica..." Direct the blame where it hurts the most- without meaning to.

The gaze between them faltered, Felix dropping his eyes to the table. Felix understood Aaron's situation, as well as he understood his own. His people thought he was a traitor for staying at Baltar's side. But he was helping them. The New Caprica police were going to be sworn in soon, and he knew there was going to be an assassination. "I helped him get here, Baltar, that is. My people," the words were almost bitter. "They think I'm responsible for this occupation. Heh- I'm ashamed to say I'm rather happy about it right now."

Happy to be here with you.


"Get away from me." Doral spit as he walked down the Caprican street. Another Five had been following him all day, prying and prodding where he shouldn't. This particular Five, and he wasn't always sure it was the same one, seemed to believe he needed to talk about his time aboard the Battlestar. This wasn't something Doral intended on doing. There wasn't anything worth telling them about. He'd been avoiding the subject ever since they had arrived.

"Aaron," the Other called from behind him. They'd established early on that the model was unstable- his adamant demand that they call him by his human name. They'd hoped that life on Caprica might help to open him back up to their people, provide him with the security and routine that he would need to recover from his mission. "I know it's hard for you. We all do. But we want to help you. We don't want to see you end up like Boomer Eight... It happened to her too, Aaron." After a moment he shot his hand forward and caught the red corduroy sleeve of his counterpart. "We might have to box her if she doesn't improve."

Aaron wheeled around, casting the other five's hand off of him with unnecessary force. "I already told you that nothing happened on Galactica! There is nothing you could possibly want to hear about! They dumped me. They betrayed me. Don't you understand that?" The Other's tight frown mirrored his own, reeking of disapproval. "I did my job. Now leave me alone."

The Other retook his grip before Doral could put too much distance between them, jerking him back to face him. "You speak of betrayal, Aaron. That word implies quite a different story than the one you're telling us. It speaks of intimacy with the human race, friendship. There has to be friendship for there to be betrayal- or at least a meaningful bond. This is what we need to talk about. You must realize that We are your family, as we always have been."

A quiet pause grew between them, each considering what had exchanged between them. Quiet hostility. A threat. Lies. Everything had been a lie, why should he trust now? Let them recondition you. Save yourself. Lie to Live. Aaron pulled his arm back again, muttering a forced apology. He looked around himself, suddenly realizing where he had been walking.

Home.

The apartment building was dilapidated, as it had always been. It had somehow escaped the serious damage that had been inflicted upon the surrounding neighborhoods. Most of the windows were shattered, shredded curtains billowing in towards the deserted rooms. "You're right... would you like to come in? I had my apartment here for awhile."

The Other let out a sigh of relief, a smile sliding onto his diplomatic lips as he accepted the invitation. He had finally reached the other copy, and now they could get him back on track. There wouldn't have to be any boxing.

As they entered the building, the Other began to rethink their safety. The stairs were creaking under their steps, threatening to spill them down to a painful end. But there was always Resurrection, so he continued to follow. The elevator, Aaron explained, was most likely out of order. Only five more flights.

Aaron approached his door slowly, touching its cold knob with sentiment. He gripped the brass bulb, slipped his old drivers license through the card reader, and then turned the knob and pushed. The door creaked open on its hinges, the musty smell of old books and stale air making his head dizzy as it escaped. He slowly walked in, dropping his license on the messy table as he looked around. Pictures lined his walls and filled the frames on his desk. He ventured towards the little nook, dragging his fingers along the back of his couch- warm chestnut with checkered pillows at either arm.

The room was warmth and Art Deco- symmetric. It was an open floor plan, the furniture arranged to create the illusion of more space than there actually was. The kitchen was sectioned off by a small mini bar, complete with high stools, and some wooden cabinets hanging from the ceiling. Framed art glistened on the walls, frames broken- a bowl of fake fruit dusty on the table. There was bird shit on his bar top. Aaron scowled, walking over and beginning to clean it off with a rag from a drawer. He had always taken pride in his immaculate living quarters. Felix smiled out at him from an old photograph, and he stopped, picking it up instead.

The Other made himself at home and poured himself a drink, taking a picture walk down the short hallway that led to the small bedroom and bath. Friends, family. All fabricated. But the Other also spotted a picture of the Galactica lieutenant, and took a sip from his glass as he regarded it. He had seen the man before. Only days before, in fact. The curly hair and dark eyes were hard to forget- and the hungry despair in his voice as he had spoken for the camera. I'm just wondering if there is something more. But this lieutenant- Felix Gaeta- was smiling, and soaking wet. Curls limp with moisture haloed his glistening face and made him appear like a rosy-cheeked cherub. A man dressed like a cartoon character had an arm around him, though he seemed like he was trying to escape the embarrassing creature. The Other chuckled a little.

He entered the bedroom, and the intimate feel of the room was slightly shocking. There were photos scattered everywhere. Incriminating evidence against the 'nothing' Doral claimed to have had on Galactica. He scanned them, still sipping from his drink. There were several shots of the lieutenant in here- a few of them revealing quite a bit of skin. He lifted his eyebrows, smirking a bit as he circled to the night stand, which was closest to the bed. Aaron and the lieutenant were pressing their lips together, looking at the camera with their eyes wide and joyful. Both were grinning. It had been taken in the room, on the bed.

This certainly wasn't nothing.


The world was trapped outside, and that was why it was possible.

Felix's breath was heavy, his eyes half-lidded as Doral rubbed his body up against him. Hot flesh against hot flesh, plundering kisses, and Aaron's hands promising the deep exploration he craved. His lips caught hold of the cylon's ear, and he tugged it between his teeth, licking and kissing- earning a lengthy groan from the man in front of him.

Easing back on the table, Felix moaned, his back arching up to escape the cold surface that sent waves of bumps along his skin. Aaron's tongue sliding up his stomach didn't help, and Felix melted into the table, giving himself over to Aaron completely. Their lips met again, and they melted into each other.


I can't believe what I'm seeing, what I'm hearing. Three men dead, others wounded, all because Doral snuck aboard and detonated a bomb... a bomb on himself. He almost killed Adama and Tigh. But they said multiple copies. I refuse to believe that it was my Aaron. It wasn't. He would never do something like that. I know he wouldn't. So I won't believe what everyone is saying... He didn't betray us.

I can't believe it.

His face has been circulated through the entire fleet. Never see him again... They look like us now.

I won't say it.

I won't hear it.

Just keep breathing.


Aaron slowly disengaged himself, easing down into one of the chairs. He smiled at his lover drowsily, petting his head full of curls. For the moment everything was all right. He traced his finger down his cheek to his body, stroking the tiger that decorated his chest. "Too many shots of ambrosia." He twittered and smiled, his teeth glistening white as he redrew the design with his finger. "I saw the video, you know? The one that Deanna made. One of the other Fives showed it to me on Caprica."

Felix groaned and shook his head, his cheeks tinting pink with embarrassment. "I was so wasted when she asked for that interview. I didn't even know what I was saying. I'm surprised I didn't spout off that I was in love with Baltar or some nonsense like that."

"I thought it was rather endearing." He muttered into the palm of Felix's hand, kissing it gently, his eyes glittering as he slowly brought it up to his cheek instead. Playful."You aren't really in love with Baltar, are you?"

Felix crawled off of the table to sit down at his side, the pain that had accompanied their reunion ebbing away slowly. He grinned a little. "Why? Would that make you jealous?"

"Maybe... Seriously, though?" Aaron kept his hand against his cheek, placing another kiss on his knuckles.

"People seem to think I am... but to tell the truth, I think I just saw that he was a lot like me. Sickening to think now, but he seemed somewhat reserved when he came on board. I thought I would take him under my wing until he got situated. And he was brilliant. Also just like me." Felix winked, a little, chuckling. "And I was hoping that some friendship could come out of it, but he just ended up even stranger than I initially thought. He was always having conversations with himself, the nutcase."

Aaron bounced a little, excitement flushing his cheeks like a child. "I know what you're talking about! I was trying to give him a list of ship names awhile back when I was still on Galactica and he was acting like he was having sex with the air. It was great when I interrupted him. Unfortunately, I think that was when he decided to incriminate me... I am a cylon, you know?..."

The lieutenant was just chuckling, the description fitting similar ones that he'd experienced. But Aaron pulled the rug out from under his feet and brought them back to reality. After a moment, Felix nodded again. "Yeah. I know." He paused, and then looked up at him again, "But I don't care."