Chapter 13
Lee set his leg down for the fiftieth time, literally. He looked over at his therapist's face and noted the approval there. The weights were higher than were comfortable, and his leg was just a bit rubbery, but by no means ready to crumble. It was slow, but it was progress.
"Nice," she confirmed. "How's it feel?"
He didn't bother lying to her. There was no point. He had learned in the first few sessions that she could read pain in his eyes with no effort. The damn woman was too good at her job. "Sore," he answered honestly. "But it's steady."
She nodded and made a note. "Then I guess we're done," she said simply.
"Good," he replied in relief. "Same time tomorrow?"
"No," she answered. "We're done. You know the exercises, you're responsible enough to do them, and I see no reason not to return you to flight status immediately."
Lee sat there in shock. His first thought was that Kara was going to be so excited. His next was that he was thrilled. It had been a damned long three months, and he was sick of being on the Galactica. He needed to fly. "Good," he finally replied, and wondered if she caught the slight catch in his voice. Kara would have, but Kim wasn't nearly as perceptive with emotion as she was with judging physical limits. At least, he hoped not.
"So, you're on your own. I'll be back on board in three weeks, and I'll do a final exam then to be sure you aren't overtaxing. I'd recommend limited duty at first, but I don't think you'd survive it. As it is, if you have any trouble I expect you to report to Doctor Salik immediately."
"Yes, Sir," he told her firmly. "Anything else?"
She shook her head, professional as always. Well, not exactly always. Maybe her hair was a little too long for his taste, and a little too dark. Maybe she wasn't tall enough and she didn't keep him laughing, but she was fairly attractive and had been nice to him. Better yet, he'd only had to turn her down once, and that had been reasonably polite as well. She had smiled, nodded, and gone back to ordering exercises. He had a lot of respect for a woman that didn't take it personally when she wasn't in the running. He had even more respect for a woman who didn't bother to ask him why.
Exiting the infirmary, he moved quickly towards his quarters. He'd only been there for about two weeks, and it was still rather unfamiliar. He would keep it though, because it was convenient for both him and Kara to get work done, and it gave them a quiet place to hide out when necessary.
A part of him had been disappointed when Kara had turned down his offer to let her move in. He had hoped for a return to their days as roommates, when they were comfortable with one another above all else. She had told him it wasn't personal, but following a couple of visits with her therapist that she needed to get comfortable being with herself again before she tried to be with anyone else. She had seemed so sad at the prospect that he couldn't hold it against her, and he'd told her the offer would remain open. He had also stayed in quarters, though. He hadn't felt comfortable leaving her to the squadron, however helpful and concerned they were. She was his responsibility, after all. He had promised Salik that much. He had promised himself the same.
So the last three months had been ones of pain and healing. She had come to him more than once in the evening after either a bad shift or a worse therapy session. She had cried in his arms once or twice, but for the most part she just seemed to need someplace quiet and someone to listen. He had done both.
A lot of what she had told him made sense. Even more of it didn't, but he still nodded and told her to go on. Her mind was an interesting place, but he didn't have any illusions that he'd ever understand women. He supposed a part of him occasionally forgot that she was one, so comfortable was she in a man's world, but the snippets of information gleaned from weeks of therapy had reminded him that their minds were not identical. Things that would have destroyed him didn't seem to phase her, and things that bothered her seemed to be trivial to him. He never told her that, though. He just listened, and she kept talking.
Once or twice she'd joined him down on her bottom bunk before they'd made the switch back to their original bunks a few of weeks ago. As his leg had regained strength, he had exercised his right to get back up above her and stop bumping his head during midnight bathroom trips. She hadn't seemed to mind. But she didn't join him up top, and he didn't feel it was his place to crowd her down below. So the two of them kept most of their companionship to the daylight hours. He missed her — a lot — but he didn't remark. The last thing he wanted to do was push her when she needed space. Besides, he had no clue where he even wanted to push her.
Two weeks ago, he had given in to the inevitable and moved out of quarters, reminding her when she helped him carry his stuff down there that she was always welcome, day or night, whether he was there or not. She'd taken him up on the daytime hours at least, managing most of her flight reports from his bunk while he occupied the desk, and taking over the desk on occasion while he caught a nap after a particularly grueling session with Kim. Then last week, she had been cleared to flight status and putting her on that roster without him had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. He was happy for her, yes — without question — but he had been miserable for himself.
It looked like now he could join her on the roster, figuratively if not literally. They were still not supposed to fly together, and he was okay with that. His father had been right about his objectivity where she was concerned, and he was through questioning reasonable suggestions — or orders.
He never locked his office, because there wasn't anything there to take. This being the case, when he reached it he pushed the hatch open and got a slight surprise as he saw blond hair peeking out from beneath a blanket on his bed, and a small bag of toiletries occupying his desk.
His first thought was to wonder if she was okay. After all, she had made it perfectly clear that she hadn't planned to move in with him. He had no clue what would bring her here and send her into his bed, but he didn't think it could be good. Yet a part of him was just glad to have her around, pleased with the comfort that her presence always brought, so he didn't bother to wake her. He grabbed a clean uniform from his locker, and went into the tiny bathroom that was attached to the room to get rid of the sweat from his therapy session. His last therapy session.
Tiny was an understatement. He could barely turn around in the space between the toilet and the shower stall, which was also reduced in size. No one had ever claimed that facilities on a Battlestar were designed for comfort. Still, it was private and heated up quickly with a minimum of water, so he was able to shower in relative comfort. Once clean, he brushed his teeth more out of habit than necessity, and dressed in the uniform he had hung on the back of the door on his way in. He didn't bother with a shave. He had done that this morning, and didn't need a second one.
He was only half surprised to see Kara sitting up in his bed when he returned to the main room which held only a desk, bed, and waste paper can besides it's requisite built in filing cabinets and lockers. His father had never managed to scrounge up a computer, so most of his work was done on the clipboard and downloaded in CIC. The direct cable hookup was as close to networking as the Galactica would ever have.
"Hey," he said softly as he dried his hair with a towel. "You okay?"
"Fine," she told him with a yawn. "Somebody assigned me on night shift," she said with a grin and a pointed look; they both knew who set the roster. "It was too noisy in quarters, so I grabbed a shower and nap. That's okay, right?"
He gave her a sideways glance as he threw the towel over his chair to dry. "You have to ask?"
She grinned again. "Just minding my manners. Don't want to get kicked out."
"Right," he said with rolling eyes as he took a seat next to her on the bed rather than getting his uniform wet against the towel. It was a convenient excuse, but he'd take it. "You don't have to worry about that anymore. Or night flights, for that matter," he added. "There's someone on the roster as of tomorrow with less flight time than you."
She furrowed her brow before the implication sunk in. Then she threw her arms around him for a huge hug and a rather girlish squeal. Yes, she was a woman; that was for sure. "You're back to flying?" she asked hopefully, but her eyes told him she was pretty certain already.
"I'm back," he assured her, putting his arms around her to keep her close for just a minute more. He could almost forget how good this felt in the interim, but once she was in his arms the feeling was nearly addictive.
For her part, Kara didn't seem inclined to let go. She was warm and soft from her nap, quite the contrast to his own chilled body following the quick shower, and she had wrapped herself around him fairly tightly. Eventually, she pulled her head back to look him in the eyes. Her own were huge, brown, and fairly sparkled. "I'm glad," she said unnecessarily.
He just grinned at her. "I should be able to start back running with you next week," he added, looking for an excuse to keep here there in his arms, even if it was only inane conversation. "My speed is coming up, and I'm lapping the Galactica six times. I should be able to keep up with you if you don't mind keeping your pace down."
"I'll manage," she told him with a grin.
He wasn't sure quite what happened then. Somehow her grin faltered, and yet she didn't look upset. He became aware of how tightly she was pulled to him and was actually considering loosening his hold when she leaned forward and kissed him.
It wasn't like their first kiss. There wasn't very much tentative about it, although it was still gentle, and for the most part chaste. Her lips were warm and slightly damp, and his surprise faded quickly to a pleased acceptance. This was good. This was right. He didn't deepen the kiss, but neither did he attempt to end it. She had started it, and he'd let her decide how far it would go.
Her arms tightened around his back and he held her securely, just letting her lead and enjoying the journey. It ended long before he was ready, but that was probably a good thing. He didn't know that he would have ended it at all.
Even after she'd pulled back, a small smile still on her face, she didn't pull away. She rested her head against his chest, and he could almost feel the smile on her face.
"It's been a damn good morning," he told her in a matter-of-fact tone, when she didn't say anything more. "I don't think it could get much better."
"Me neither," she agreed.
He held her a moment longer, then kissed her on the top of the head and stood up. He was late reporting to CIC with the new roster, and he needed to get himself on it before the download. Then he had to get it past Tigh, which wasn't always easy. The man took his responsibilities almost too seriously of late. "Flying's gonna feel good, too," he admitted, glancing back to her as he stepped towards the hatch. When he was one foot out, one foot still in, he fired back, "Almost as good as sex."
He didn't turn around to see her expression, but her laughter was clear for a good distance down the hallway.
It was three in the morning, and he couldn't sleep. If anyone had ever told him that he'd be so excited about getting into a Viper that it would keep him up nights, he would have thought them crazy. But that had been before he'd spent over six months out of the cockpit, and the last three of which doubting that he'd ever fly a fighter again.
It had been a long three months in a lot of ways, but he still thought that it had been easier on him than it had been on Kara. There had been times along the way where he hadn't known if she was going to manage to make it through. There had been other times he was sure she would, but also that he would be left behind in the process. Thankfully, neither had resulted. Kara was finally Kara again, and she was still a good friend.
He had even done her the favor of leaving her off tonight's roster of routine flights. She had initially asked him for the night schedule, hoping it would give her a little less time around her teammates. It wasn't that she didn't like them, but rather that they worried as much as he did.
Sharon had been the one that really surprised him, though. She and Kara had been friends regardless of their differences in age, skill, and assignment. They had played cards, played tricks on the guys, and had also effectively shut him out on more than one occasion, although he didn't think it had been deliberate. Frankly, with Sharon married and pregnant, he hadn't thought she would have much time for Kara. The opposite had proven to be true. The two women had become very close in recent months, and he thought that having another woman to talk to was pretty good for her. She hadn't complained anyway. And if it took time away from when he could be with her, he tried not to notice. After all, she wasn't his personal property. He didn't even want her to be. Exactly.
But other women had come forward as well. Apparently, once she had admitted to the attack, it had been the women in the squadron that had become the most protective. He found it interesting. He had always thought of men as the protectors, and women as the weaker sex. Oh, he wouldn't admit it for the world — and it was a completely outdated concept — but some things were ingrained from being raised by one of the few traditional homey mothers that had survived equality.
The irony was that if Kara had believed it, he would be dead. Thankfully being raised in the same house hadn't had the same influence on them beyond a love of flying and the closeness of family. Come to think of it, Zak hadn't been particularly chauvinistic either. Maybe he took after his mother more than Lee had thought. It was odd. When he thought of his mother, it was Zak that usually came to mind because of his careless attitude and ready smile. His mom had possessed those qualities as well. But there seemed to be more of a blend in each of them than was visible at first glance.
His attempt at boring himself sleepy with mental diversion was brought to a halt by a soft knock at the hatch. He almost didn't get up, thinking it was too soft to be his door, but decided he would check to be sure. While the Battlestar never really slept, knocks at three in the morning were relatively rare.
He kept one blanket around his shoulders in lieu of a robe, and tried to make sure everything was covered. Regardless of the lowered temperature, he'd never really gotten used to sleeping in his uniform, so he tended to do so in his underwear. It wasn't uncommon in the squadron, but it had certainly proved inconvenient on occasion. The night when Kara had panicked had been a prime example of that.
Opening the hatch carefully, he wondered if it was indeed possible to summon someone by pure thought. Kara stood there, duty uniform about half on and half off, and eyes both red and puffy. He didn't bother with words. He grabbed one hand, tugged her through the hatch, and quickly closed it behind them. As soon as the room was secure, he wrapped arms and blanket both around her and pulled her close.
And she cried. Her arms slipped around his body at some point, and she held on with all the strength in her well-conditioned body. He absently wondered if he'd have bruises by tomorrow, but he really didn't care. She cried long and hard, and he held her, and that seemed to help her. Lords, he hoped it was helping her. He had no clue what else to do.
When her sobs quieted somewhat, he eased her over to the bed and sat down. Instead of coming down next to him, she wound up on his lap, and he didn't complain. He just held tight, coaxed her to put her head down on his shoulder, and cuddled her close. All the while, he wished he had some idea what was going on. He had thought she was past this. He had thought she was better. Yes, she still saw the therapist every week when he was here on the Galactica for visits, but she rarely came from the meetings exhausted and edgy as she first had. Usually she didn't even remark about them. He tried to remember if she'd had an appointment today, but in his own excitement over being reinstated to flight status, he hadn't really paid attention.
Even after the tears stopped, he held her. His right leg protested a bit at the new abuse — she was light, but not that light — however he didn't think it would do any real harm. And it was worth any discomfort just to feel her calming against him. Her body wasn't as tense now, and her grip was not as tight. Maybe now he could find out what was happening.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently. It seemed like a stupid question, but it was the only place he knew to start.
"Just a nightmare," she said in little more than a whisper. Her voice was hoarse from the crying.
"Do you remember it?
She was silent for a long time, and he thought that maybe he had pushed too far. He didn't know. He was on very unfamiliar ground. While he'd held her through tears and anger and fear, he had mostly done so in the daylight hours. The only real nightmare he had ever helped her through had been over Zak, and it had been years ago. At the time, he had been as shaken as she was, so any discomfort had been mutual. She hadn't even had nightmares after the initial attack. Was this even about the attack? Was it about the war? Somehow he didn't think so.
"Just the fear," she finally answered, but her voice was stronger. "And isolation. Like I was alone. It was dumb."
"You aren't alone," he assured her, illustrating the comment with a gentle squeeze.
"I know," she whispered. "That's why I came here."
"It was easier when I was right above you," he murmured with a gentle kiss to her temple. "But if you don't mind the walk, I sure don't mind the company."
She hugged him back, making no move towards either leaving or settling in. She just stayed quietly in his arms, holding tight. "You should be sleeping," she remarked softly. "I'm sorry."
"I was awake," he admitted. "I fly tomorrow. It was on my mind."
"Then you really need to sleep," she said sadly.
"Come here," he suggested, scooting back onto the bed and shifting her off his lap in the same motion. He moved to the back of the bed, and looped an arm around her waist to pull her in tight. She didn't resist, but went back into his embrace as though she belonged there. He already had one blanket thrown around her from when she'd entered his room, so when he reached back for another he only grabbed one. Tossing it over them, he wrapped both arms firmly about her body and rested his head next to hers. "Better," he finally said. "As long as you don't mind."
"I was hoping you'd let me stay," she admitted. "I know it sounds stupid, but."
"There's nothing stupid about needing someone close after a nightmare. We've been there for one another before, and this isn't really any different. Well, you had a longer walk, but otherwise no difference," he said with an attempt at levity. She was the strongest woman he'd ever known, and it did bother him to see weakness. Not because he saw it as weakness, but because she did. She needed all the confidence in herself that she could manage. He missed the days when she'd been so cocky he wanted to strangle her. "Besides," he finally admitted. "I sleep better with you in my arms. Always have."
"You've said that before," she responded softly. "I never could figure it out, though. I mean, I get it for me. Big strong man, and all that. But for you there's nothing special."
He almost laughed at her, and might have if she hadn't seemed so fragile at the moment. "There are different kinds of special," he explained. "To me, you're the best kind. You don't take any of my shit, and you keep me in my place. And the whole time you make me feel comfortable while you're doing it. Pretty special if you ask me."
She didn't respond to that. He could tell by the relaxation of her body that the nightmare was fading, but he didn't think she was asleep.
"Lee?" she asked softly. If he'd been asleep, the tiny voice wouldn't have awoken him.
"Hmm?"
"Do you ever wonder"
"Wonder what?"
"Wonder why we aren't like everyone else?"
"What do you mean?" He had a feeling this was more than just a passing thought.
"I guess I just wonder why we're so close, but not close like that, you know? I don't know any couples that sleep together that aren't sleeping together. I don't know any friends that rely on each other this way. And even married couples don't know each other like we do. I know, because I've talked to Sharon about things, and she and Tyrol are always getting into it because they don't understand the other. But with us, it's like we just know."
"We've known each other forever," he reminded her. "That has to be part of it."
"Your father and Tigh have known each other just as long, and I'm pretty sure they aren't in bed together."
"Oh, Lords!" he muttered with a laugh. "Where do you come up with this stuff?"
"Well, you know what I mean," she said with a laugh. "Friends aren't like that, and they're friends. And we're friends. And doesn't it sometimes seem weird."
"Maybe," he admitted with a small sigh, tugging her even closer and tucking his face in by her hair. She smelled so good when they curled up like this. "But I also know it feels right, and I'm not going to put a limit on what I feel because of what I think other people might say, or think, or whatever. Being with you feels right, whatever the capacity, and I'll take what I can get. Not much feels right anymore. And maybe there will be more someday, when we're both ready for it. I don't know. If you do, let me in on it."
She was silent for a long time, and again Lee wondered if his honesty had been too much. But it had been the truth, and he couldn't see taking it back.
"You know I love you, right?" she asked in a soft voice.
"Yeah," he admitted. "And you know it's mutual?"
"Always," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "I just don't ever want to lose you. Sex has a tendency to mess things up. I don't ever want us not to feel this comfortable. When the world closes in at three in the morning, I like having somewhere where I know I'm welcome."
"You'll always be welcome. Just maybe someday you won't have to walk half the ship to be here."
"Maybe," she agreed. "So the invite is still open?"
"Only for you," he told her honestly. "Always. I'm not going anywhere."
"Thanks. Sorry I'm so slow about this. It isn't fair."
"Life's never been fair," he reminded her. "And you're worth the wait."
As he felt her body relax completely a few minutes later, he knew he wouldn't be sleeping that night. He had just put pretty much everything on the line. There were no doubts in his mind where he wanted the relationship to go, but he was still unsure about Kara's place. It didn't worry him, not really , because they always seemed to wind up in the same place eventually. But gradually he was beginning to wonder how long the wait would be.