Chapter 7

There were times that Lee loved his work. And there were times he did not. This was one of the "not" times.

He needed to talk to a friend. At the moment, he really didn't have one. It was impossible to be friends with the people that you supervised: that was a fact of basic management. It was easier to deal with in the military, because at least there was no question regarding who came where in the chain of command. It was all decided well above them.

But being made CAG had taken care of any possibility that Lee really had to make friends within his squadron. There was nothing more irritating than watching those you used to be one of cut you out. He had always been a pilot, always one of the guys, and now he was the boss. On the other hand, the fact that he'd never known these pilots in that close of a manner did make the situation tolerable. It wasn't as though he'd been exiled by his friends, but rather he hadn't been in their circle in the first place.

He had tried at first to at least join in conversations and make himself approachable, but it had caused more problems than it solved. He tried to be accessible now, as his father always was, but he no longer worried about making friends with the pilots. He had a few friends among the other supervisory staff, and he had Kara, who was a pain in the ass to supervise. He would get by.

Kara. Just the thought had the power to bring a smile to his face. Well, today it did. He was well rested, relaxed, and ready to get things done.

He'd spent the night before in some of the best sleep he'd ever gotten. It had been his night off duty, so rather than trying to keep his sleep schedule regular to working late watch, he had laid down with her at bedtime. He'd just been too tired to stay up any longer anyway. She had a better understanding now of why he'd kept his distance before, so he no longer really had to hide anything. She had actually been pretty accommodating given the circumstances. He'd turned his back to her, and she'd slipped up behind him. The result had been inevitable, but in that position he didn't have to worry about her figuring out what was going on. Even if she had known, it wasn't anything new. He had just enjoyed the welcome company, and finally had a good night's sleep. He would regret it when he had to work tomorrow night and he couldn't get to sleep later today, but it had been worth it.

As it turned out, the primary block to restful nights had been more his own worry than true arousal. And now that he had found a key to the former, he was determined to come up with a solution to the latter.

But he hadn't been kidding when he'd told her that he didn't know where to start. The Galactica wasn't known for its dance clubs or movie theaters. The usual recreational activities simply didn't exist. How was he supposed to go back to old fashioned courting when there was nothing old fashioned left? He decided the solution would have to be creative.

And the last thing he could do was ask the other pilots. It was irritating, but as much as he disliked it, he wasn't in a place to sit in on their conversations or ask them about dating ideas. It was bad enough that he was interested in one of the pilots — talking about it would just set him up for people to complain about favoritism or harassment. So Lee did the next best thing. Rather than choosing to go to those below him, he went to someone who worked beside him.

Over the years, he and Chief Tyrol had developed a pretty fair working arrangement. They both had the same essential goal — keeping the spacecraft in the air — and each was responsible almost exclusively for his own men. Lee organized, scheduled, and rated the pilots. Tyrol did the same for his deck crew. While they were indeed separated by rank, their responsibilities were remarkably similar. It had been this connection that made Lee think of him when he'd needed ideas. After all, Tyrol was in a permanent, successful relationship. He was just likely to have some ideas for what to do during the early days of such a relationship. He also knew from the occasional scuttlebutt that Sharon and Tyrol had been an item long before they had gone public with that information, so he thought that the Chief might also be able to address some of those concerns.

He found the Chief looking over one of his newer crewmen, and not looking happy about what he saw.

"You're going to have to put your arm behind it," he told the young woman. "You don't have the arm strength, so you have to use leverage."

"But it won't budge," she complained in what Lee thought was a really whiney voice.

"That's a good thing," Tyrol returned. "You don't want it spinning lose when this Viper is at mach two. They have to be tight. Now move your arm up there and use your back a little. That's right no, above the wrench" Tyrol looked like he was ready to take the wrench to the new ensign, but it was all Lee could do not to laugh.

"I can't do this," the girl whined again. Lords, she couldn't be more then eighteen or nineteen. What was she doing trying to become a mechanic?

"If Cally can get these loose, than you can," he told her firmly. "When things are rolling, I don't have time to pick and choose who does what. If you're there, you'll need to do it."

"But I can't."

Tyrol took a long breath, letting it out very slowly. "Tell you what. I'll give you a few minutes to work on it without me looking over your shoulder. If you get it, let me know. If you don't, then go hang up you uniform and report to Cally for reassignment. I don't have time to listen to what you can't' do."

The Chief turned around to leave, and caught sight of Apollo standing there. He looked a little chagrined for a moment, but then the command mask fell into place, as though to challenge Lee to question how he managed his crew. Lee had no such intention.

"Can I have a word with you, Chief?"

Tyrol gave a quick nod, looked back to see the girl still battling with a wrench as long as her arm and a bolt that might well be stripped. He walked towards Lee and followed him a good distance from Viper. "Look, Sir," the Chief began. "I know it seems a little harsh, but"

"Actually, you were quite a bit more patient than I would have been," Lee told him with a grin. "You sure she's old enough to be in uniform?"

Tyrol sighed, but it sounded like relief as much as anything. "They're all like that when they start. I can remember when Cally wasn't up for anything more than mopping decks and cleaning canopies. They either grow into the job or they don't. I don't know what I would have done to her if Prosna hadn't" The Chief's voice trailed off.

"I've heard good things about him," Lee said carefully. "He was lost in the fire, right?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Well, maybe you could assign Cally to this one. If she's been through it, then she might know how to get this kid together."

"Actually, that's what I was planning," Tyrol said with a smile. "Although I don't know if Cally will be as patient as I've been. The kid really may not make it."

"Well, you'll manage it," Lee said with confidence. "You always do. That's kind of why I'm here."

"Sir?"

"I need some personal advice," he admitted reluctantly. "And I thought you might have some ideas for me."

"Personal?"

Lee gave a sigh. "If you were going to try to get to know someone romantically how would you go about it?"

The Chief looked at him for a long, considering moment. "First I'd be sure it was off ship, and away from Lieutenant Thrace. If she finds out, she's liable to kill you."

Lee smiled at that. "I was kind of planning to take her along," he responded.

It took a moment for that to register. "Oh," he said, confused. Then, "oh, I see. But I thought you already"

"Not exactly," Lee admitted. He didn't like talking about his relationships with anyone, least of all people he both liked and respected. It made him feel terribly inept. "We're good friends," he finally admitted. "And we might like to see how much further it can go, but I haven't thought about things like this in years, and it's not like there's a soda shop down the road where everyone meets."

"You realize that if you two start dating, it's gonna be the talk of the ship," Tyrol informed him. "Most folks think you're already a couple, just not real public about it."

"They can talk about what they want," Lee told him. "But right now there's nothing to talk about. Any ideas?"

Tyrol thought about it for a moment. "Well, when Sharon and I started out, it was mostly quick trips to the equipment closets," he admitted wryly. "After the war started, I had Boxey so they put me in family quarters. It was still a lot of sneaking around between shifts. Some of it was fun, but mostly just a minute here and a minute there."

"So you didn't ever do anything really special. Go anywhere or do anything like a date?"

He thought about it. Actually, no. Like you said, there's really no place around. Before we were legal, so to speak, we found anyplace that wasn't busy. Afterwards, there was my quarters. We usually ate there too because the she wasn't that comfortable in the enlisted mess, and I wasn't welcome in the officer's."

Lee thought about that for a moment, frowning. "I hadn't thought about that," he admitted. "What about after you got married?"

Tyrol shrugged and gave a grin. "She's an enlisted wife, whether she's an officer or not. She still doesn't feel all that comfortable about it, though. Technically, I'm an officer's husband, but I'm not all that happy in the officer's mess. It isn't that we can't cross those lines, but it's not as easy as we'd like it to be."

"I always thought of us as one crew," Lee mused.

"That's because you're in command," the Chief explained. "You can go where you want.

Lee raised an eyebrow at the older man. "You command more people than I do," he reminded him.

A large clank was heard from behind them, and then the soft crying of Tyrol's newest rookie. "Don't remind me," he muttered. "Hey, you heading back to the ready room?"

"I could be," Lee said.

"See if Cally's there," he requested. "Otherwise I may strangle this kid."

"I can do that," he told him with a grin.

"Oh, and have her bring the first aid kit," he requested. "If I know the sound of that wrench, we've got some knuckles to bandage."

"I'll take care of it," Lee promised. "And thanks."

"I wasn't all that helpful," the Chief told him with a wink.

"You listened," Lee said. "Sometimes that's help enough."

Tyrol just shrugged, then headed back towards his reluctant troop. Lee had to smile. Training the new ones wasn't easy. He tended to relegate that job to Kara, as she actually had more patience than he did. It was surprising, given her notorious temper, but with the kids she was pretty good. Then he listened to his own inner thoughts and had to grimace. He must be getting old, he thought, when officers in their twenties really seemed like kids.

It hadn't been easy, but Lee thought he'd finally gotten things set. His discussion with Tyrol had brought up one thought he hadn't considered: the officer's mess. Yes, there was a main dining facility with about a hundred chairs along five tables, but there were also smaller rooms back beside the kitchen. They hadn't been used in ages, and were now primarily storage areas, but a couple of hours with a hand-truck had taken care of that. It had taken a week, a good deal of sweet-talking, and more promises than he really thought he could sleep. He now had a private room, a single table, and had even scrounged a table cloth.

He also had friends who had friends. The chef had promised something really special, and one of the ladies that his father had met in hydroponics had provided a small vase of flowers. There was no alcohol available, but even without wine or mixed drinks, it looked like a pretty classy setup. He could only hope that Kara appreciated his efforts.

But with her it was hard to know. She had taken his request to meet her for dinner with a bland glare. Okay, so she'd just come off duty and managed to get out of her flight suit, but this was important. After pleading for ten minutes — something he purely wasn't good at — she had consented to shower, dress comfortably, and come down to the officer's mess. She should be there any minute.

Lee looked at his watch again. How long did it take a woman to get ready, anyway? He'd asked her to come down an hour ago, and he was still hanging out in the doorway trying to catch her. Just about the time he was ready to give up and head back to the room to get her — or at least find out what was taking so long — he saw her come around the corner and into the dining hall.

She looked tired. Her hair was clean, but still wet and combed straight back out of her way. She was out of her flight suit, and down to a simple duty uniform of the twin tank tops and exercise pants. It wasn't exactly a romantic outfit, but he really didn't care. He was going to do his best to give her something special tonight, and if all went well maybe they'd be doing something more than sleeping when they made it back to quarters. Not that he was planning this just to get into her pants or anything, but he was too honest with himself to deny that the idea had some appeal.

"Kara?"

Her head turned towards his call, and she managed a tired smile. She also looked more than a little concerned as she walked towards him. He couldn't blame her. The far corner of the mess hall wasn't exactly a well-known hot spot.

"Feel better?" he asked with concern. She really did look tired.

"I've had better days," she admitted with a lopsided smile. "Still working on some of the new rooks. Most are doing okay, but some they're just not going to make it in Vipers."

"Then we move them to Raptors, or settle them on the bridge. We've already dispersed one group of inept pilots. I don't intend to replace them with more."

She nodded her agreement. "There's time," she admitted. "And at least it gets me in the air every day, although only for an hour or so."

"Then four hours of paper work," he commiserated.

"Exactly," she agreed, then seemed to finally look around. "What's the deal?"

He had been concerned enough that for a moment he'd forgotten his master plan. "Dinner," he told her, his former good humor returning. "For a lovely lady," he added. He couldn't keep his face straight, though.

"Right," she muttered, her smirk showing clearly as she peeked around him. The sarcastic expression faded to a simple smile as she took in the tiny table, two chairs, and little vase of flowers. "What's this?" she asked in confusion.

"The best I could do," he admitted sheepishly. "The Galactica is a little short on restaurants, but I figured after three years I owed you a real date.

The look on her face was somewhere between stunned and happy, but he took what he could get. He escorted her into the room, pulled out the chair for her to sit, and then slid her carefully up to the table before taking his own seat. "How am I doing so far?" he asked as he looked across the table at her.

"Pretty well," she admitted. "What's for dinner?"

"I have no idea," he said with a grin. "But Corey should be in before long."

As though on cue, Ensign Corey stepped into the room with a bottle of flavored water — Lee had better sense than to ask what it had been flavored with — and two glasses. He left the water for them, promising to return with something more substantial.

Lee picked up his glass and gestured for Kara to do the same. When she had, he made a quick toast. "To first dates," he told her with a wink.

"First dates," she echoed, and clinked her glass to his.

The meal actually started out on a good note. Ensign Corey, a young crewman who owed Lee for a couple of shuttle fights to see relatives on another vessel of the fleet, was more than accommodating. The food was as good as it got on the Galactica, being an even day and allowing for true food rather than the synthetic variety.

But as the evening went on, Lee noticed that Kara's attention wasn't on romantic interludes, but rather the people who came and went from the dining hall tables. It wasn't an overt interest, but rather looking up and then away, and a studied effort not to comment.

"Problem?" he asked her, as her eyes widened and she ducked her head for the fifth time in as many minutes.

She gave a shrug. "Evans," she admitted.

"And before that?"

"Hawk."

Lee wished that he'd chosen a room that hadn't had any view of the main hall, but at the time he'd been looking for the one with the least junk to move out and the easiest access for the people helping him.

"Embarrassed to be seen with me?" he asked her quietly. He wished he could meet her eyes to do it, but he was terrified of what he'd find there.

"No," she explained. "Just kind of embarrassed to be seen at all."

"Why?"

She gave another half-shrug and moved her meat around on her plate without really eating it. "I haven't been on a date in five years," she finally said. "And even when I was, I hadn't spent more time than not trying to convince the guys around me that I wasn't a girl. I mean, I am, but you know what I mean. I spent so much time trying to get them to look past it, that it's hard to make an issue of it now."

"I'd say they knew," he told her with a sigh.

"So I see." But she wasn't smiling, and she wasn't looking at him.

"Why am I starting to think this was a lousy idea?" he asked her.

She finally glanced up to meet his eyes, then once more looked away. "I'm really trying to switch gears, Lee. I swear. It's just not as easy as I thought it would be."

So much for romance. If she couldn't feel comfortable having a meal with him, the odds of her doing anything else in view of others were pretty slim. It wasn't that he'd been planning a make-out session in the hanger deck, but it did bother him that this was a problem for her. He was really proud to be seen with her — as dumb as it sounded — and it annoyed him to no end that she didn't feel the same about him. Suddenly a lot of the things that Tyrol had said were making a sick kind of sense. He'd thought the problem had just been a rank issue for the Chief, and that had been bad enough. But for some reason Kara seemed to be having the same discomfort, and she was just as much an officer as he was.

"You want to move out to the other tables?" he asked in a voice that he knew sounded sullen. He didn't want to whine, but he had tried so hard to make this special for her. He'd thought it would be what she wanted. Now he didn't know what the hell to do.

"I'm fine," she told him with a sigh. "I'm just tired, and way over-thinking things. Ignore me," she requested with half a smile.

Lee wasn't having any of it. "You're not even eating," he complained.

She sighed at that, loud and clearly annoyed. "Lee, I said I was tired. I'm sorry that bothers you, but there's nothing I can do about it. I've been on duty since early watch, and I'm just about wiped out."

He closed his eyes. He didn't want to fight with her. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Do you want to go back to our room?"

"Your room," she clarified, but she did so almost absently.

"Our room," he insisted. "You've been there for six months. I think we can say that we share it by now."

"You are bound and determined to piss me off, aren't you?" she asked with a direct stare. It wasn't a loving gaze into his eyes like he had been hoping for earlier, but a clear challenge. He felt like he was the local dog, and this little stray was glaring him down. He wasn't going to be the first to blink.

"I just wanted to give you a real date," he explained, perhaps a little more loudly than he'd planned. "I wasn't aware that it was a crime. I thought it was what you'd want!"

"Why didn't you ask?"

"Because" The problem was, he couldn't think of a single valid reason beyond just wanting to do it his way. It was irritating. "Forget it. Let's just go. It's not like you're eating it anyway."

He watched Kara take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Actually, he was pretty impressed that she was even trying to keep her temper in check. If he had thought about it, he would have realized just how hard she was really trying. But he wasn't ready to think. He was too busy being angry that he'd read her wrong. Again. As usual.

Lee didn't bother trying to finish the food on his own plate. To begin with, he hadn't really been tasting it, and beyond that he was just too annoyed. He didn't know what she wanted. He didn't know how to go about finding out. He might have asked, but she didn't seem to be ready to offer any suggestions. Finally, the glances from the pilots who really had never gotten along with him in the first place were starting to grate on his already jangled nerves. They kept looking over, and their gaze was almost accusatory. Most of them were friends with Kara. None of them were friends with him. No wonder they didn't look any happier than she did.

He took the napkin off his lap — another of the fancy touches he'd arranged — and tossed it on the table. "Do you want me to walk you back to the room, or would you rather go alone?" he asked bitterly.

"Now what are you mad about?"

"I'm not mad. Just tired like you. This was a bad idea."

She seemed to soften for a moment, her eyes finally meeting his in silent apology. "Not bad," she corrected. "Maybe badly timed."

"Whatever. Do you want me to walk you back or not?" He knew he was being rude. He knew it. He just didn't care. Nothing had worked out the way he had planned, and now he just wanted to put it all behind him.

"Go ahead," she told him softly. "I'll catch up."

"Fine," he muttered, standing up and leaving her there. He didn't even look behind to see if she was going to finish eating or follow. He had a lot to think about, but he didn't want to do it now. He didn't want to think about anything now. Thinking hadn't gotten him very far tonight, and he was sick of trying. He had a lot of people to thank, and a lot of favors to return, and the bottom line was that it had all been a stupid idea.

He didn't understand women, and at the moment he wasn't sure why he wanted to.