This is an epilog to Standard of Care. I felt I had to give the Commander's side. This is officially a Commander Adama/Kylen romance. I give the rating a PG-13 maybe R. I want you all to know I cannot write a steamy scene to save my life. What I can say is my characters locked me in a room with no food or water until I wrote this. They are holding my horse and fish hostage. BSG characters I do not own, if I did I would be paid $$$ for this. Special thanks to Lona who corrects all my typos, gives me great ideas, and pesters me to no end if I don't send her something. The Lenna Dell is all mine MUHAHAHA!
Standard of Care
Epilog
By Lt. Kathy "Doc"
If anyone told me that I would be lying in bed holding a woman in my arms who is my CMO and who is thirteen years younger than me, I would have sent them for a fitness evaluation. But I am here, in her bed. She is a warm comfortable weight beside me.
I remember back to before the Cylon attacks when I first heard the name Dr. Kylen Salik.
Dr. Cross, my old CMO and I knew each other's habits and worked well together. After he asked for a meeting, we were seated at the conference table in my quarters. He said, "Commander, I've enjoyed serving under you these last five years, and would love to stay for the decommissioning ceremony, but because of civilian commitments, I will be unable to, especially given that the decommissioning has been postponed another seven weeks. I would never leave you without a CMO so I've talked with Picon Fleet Medical. I hope you don't mind."
It wasn't a big problem, but I didn't like the idea of the Galactica without a CMO even for such a short period of time. Life has taught me that emergencies or disasters rarely give anyone a heads-up. Yet, I didn't want to interfere with his plans for his new civilian practice, living with his wife near their kids and grandchildren. I decided to see if he had any ideas and asked, "No, but what arrangements can be made? Who can we get for a short assignment?"
He smiled and with a voice full of wonder said, "I have no idea how this happened, but Fleet Medical sent me a message this morning informing me that the head of Trauma & Critical Care at Picon Fleet Hospital, a Dr. Salik, will be filling in as your CMO until the Galactica is formally decommissioned."
That was good news. "Good. Anything I should know?"
"Dr. Salik, from what I understand is brilliant, very intense, and demanding. She was made a division head at Fleet Hospital in record time, and during her three-year tenure has made Fleet Hospital one of the best throughout the twelve Colonies for Trauma and Critical Care. From what I hear, she is considered a rising star."
I had no idea then what Doctor Salik's temporary posting would lead to.
I first met her when she reported to me for duty in my office. She was shorter than I expected, with brown hair, brown eyes, and a calm voice. There was nothing to indicate the person Dr. Cross had described or what I had read in her forwarded personnel records. I had expected a whirlwind, an intense individual who would turn the Galactica upside down in her last few weeks as a real battlestar. To me, Dr. Salik didn't look like a woman who would even disturb the dust on my bookshelves.
Those were famous last words. After only a few days reports began to cross my desk about various upgrades needed in the Life Station. It was nothing out of the ordinary. We did have one tense interaction when she wanted to look into integration of the Life Station's computer system, but after a discussion where I did most the discussing, she backed down.
Next thing I know a medical report arrived on my desk revoking Starbuck's flight status. It's all proper and within Fleet guidelines. The damn forms were even filled out in triplicate. If Starbuck was aware of this, things were going to get ugly. I knew Starbuck would put our temporary CMO in her own Life Station, as a patient. I went down to the Life Station to see if I could mediate. Instead I saw Dr. Salik giving Starbuck an ultimatum. Not only that but in a not-so-subtle way she let Capt. Spencer and myself know that she was not backing down on her order and that neither one of us had better interfere. Before Dr. Kylen Salik, no one had ever given me an order on my own ship that didn't have the rank of Admiral in front of his or her name. But according to Fleet law, she was within her rights. I couldn't overturn it.
Intense and high powered indeed.
That turned out to be only the beginning. What followed next was an inventory of all medic kits and disaster pods. There were also formal emergency medic training and medical disaster drills. I was hearing a lot of grumbling from Saul. Surprisingly, not so much from Chief Tyrol although his deck crews were certainly being drilled as much as those in CIC and other ship areas. I later found out that Chief Tyrol had asked Dr. Salik for assistance transferring my old Mark II viper on board Galactica using non-standard "Fleet Connections".
I met with her once to ask the reason for all the intense drills and inventory given that the Galactica was being turned into a frak'n museum. Her answer was an echo of my own thoughts. "Commander, while the Galactica is to be decommissioned soon, until that time this ship needs to be medically ready to handle any disaster or assist in an emergency. Emergencies or disasters rarely give advanced notice." I told her to carry on with my blessing.
The day of the Cylon attacks I never had to think about emergency medical problems, it ran like clock work. As we engaged the enemy, there was no confusion as to where med pacs were located, or how to use what was in them. Dr. Salik occasionally updated Saul about ship casualties and medical issues but it was all in the background and did not interfere with our protection of the civilian fleet as we FTLed away from Ragnar.
After the jump from Ragnar, I began to make visiting the Life Station a semi-regular stop. I usually know everything that goes on in the Galactica. It was only a matter of time before my intelligence network picked up information about Dr. Salik. It tuned out that my CMO was a coffee aficionado. Well, actually a bit more than that, a coffee addict. She had managed to bring her own supply of coffee on board through what I can only describe as non-standard "Fleet Channels". The coffee was not pre- ground but whole beans. She ground the beans fresh each time she made a cup. It wasn't just any brand either but that really expensive extra- smooth Picon Mountain Blue. I love my coffee as much as anyone, but I have learned to drink what is available. Any kind of coffee was becoming scarce in the fleet. When I learned that I had a person onboard who had high quality hard-to-get coffee and even ground her own beans, I knew I had to take advantage of it. It paid off too. Damn, the woman made one fine cup of coffee.
I still have no idea why I asked her to dinner that first time all those months ago. Perhaps, it was a reaction to my participation in the birth of a new human after so much death and destruction. I don't think the small glass of ambrosia she gave me was to blame. As I asked I was asking myself what the hell I was doing. I never eat in the mess.
When I met her later in the corridor, she still looked tired. In the mess hall I had a new experience, when she told me what to eat. Half the time she would just reach out and place a food item on my tray without even asking me. But it was her bedroom voice comment that brought me up short. Interesting, she liked my voice. Vanity thy name is male. I think it was then that a small part of me began asking what other things she might like. She was well read and had an interest similar to mine in art. Overall she was an excellent dinner companion. Except for the Dr. Baltar side bar. At first I couldn't figure out what was her interest in him, and if I was honest with myself, irritated that he seemed to capture her attention. Her subsequent explanation restored my good mood, but I made a mental note to have Saul keep closer tabs on Baltar. I tried not to question my irritation and subsequent good mood too closely.
After Baltar attacked and injured Kylen, it was almost too easy to start spending time with her, reading her books, and later going to the gym for exercise and to help with her rehabilitation. The first time she tried to use a weight machine to work her arm I laughed so hard I lost my balance and fell down. I couldn't remember when I had last laughed like that. I hadn't been doing that much for myself since the Cylon attacks. I had forgotten how good it felt to exercise, and how enjoyable it was to sit and read something other than reports, to have someone to talk over small stuff with. Kylen helped me remember.
For months, I had shouldered the burden of command. I didn't complain, it was and is my job. But I had forgotten how to enjoy life, the simple pleasure of being with another person and not being the Commander. I had forgotten how good it felt to spend time with a woman who didn't call me sir all the time. Even when we are in public together and she uses my title, it sounds different, almost like an endearment.
Teaching her to box was my most brilliant idea to date. I can tell she doesn't like it much, but humors me. It was during one of our boxing sessions that I first heard her call me a "devious bastard". I just laughed although she looked like she thought I was going to court martial her for it.
When I saw her that night in the Life Station standing there in her scrubs, I knew something bad was going on. I saw a lot of Battle fatigue when I served in the first war. I had just finished my shift in CIC and decided to swing by the Life Station. Earlier, I had been notified about the accident so I figured I would find Kylen there, and check up on Crewman Harper.
I saw her as soon as I entered the mostly dark Life Station. I had never seen Kylen so distant, so cut off. The comment she later made in my quarters about blood on her hands was more alarming being said in a toneless voice. Thank the Lords that she had instinctively followed my commands and let me take her to my quarters.
When she came out of my bathroom she looked even more tiny and lost in my clothes, her short brown hair wet. The only thing I knew to do was to hold her in my arms and let her grieve. I knew she was grieving for the loss of a patient, I was surprised to find out she was also grieving the loss of technology and other services that would help her do her job. Despite what she said I was certain she had done her best period.
Underneath my concern was the thought that it felt right holding her. That first night in my bed, I knew that she was more than a friend. I was beginning to care for her, a lot. I watched her sleep, and was relieved when she awoke and told me she was going to be ok. I had always called her Doctor, except in my private thoughts where she is Kylen. Lying in my bed with her was the first time I allowed myself to say her name out loud. I loved the way she said my name.
I stayed awake after she returned to sleep, shocking myself by wondering how she would look in my bed without my sweats on, and naked after making love. I imagined how her skin would feel, the sounds she would make. I hadn't thought about a woman in that way since my divorce. Even as I was thinking about her I was chiding myself, "Stupid old man, what would she ever see in you? She's an officer under your command for frak sake." I eventually fell asleep, but when I awoke, she was a warm soft weight against me. I could feel the effect the morning and her presence had on me. She didn't even move when I got out of bed to shower, change and get started on some reports.
I watched her asleep in my bed. She looked "right" there. When she told me she was thinking about me, I was surprised, surprised and pleased. Touching her, even through my old sweats was a pleasure I could not deny myself. When she said I was special it took all my will power not to take her in my arms. Our subsequent conversation didn't surprise me. Kylen tends to be direct. I knew what she was trying to say. I was still trying to deal with my thoughts and feelings from the previous night, and didn't want to try and discuss them until I could figure out what in the Lords of Kobol I was going to do. When she let me off the hook I breathed a sigh of relief. I did know one thing, I was not ready to let this woman out of my life.
I love touching her. Which is why I guess I do it. She had complained about my reluctance to have her touch me. It wasn't because I didn't want her to but because of my own reaction to her touch. I'm still not sure what there is that draws her to me, I've been in the Fleet all my adult life. I don't consider myself a "catch" after one failed marriage, a son who only now I am getting close to after a two-year separation, and another son dead, in part because of me. She could do much better with someone who is closer to her own age and who can at least understand her job. Sometimes when she talks about her work I listen but really only understand about every third sentence.
I think her intelligence is frightening. One evening she was sitting on my couch with her legs crossed beneath her and in her lap was some needlepoint she was working on. Her hands were flying, but she wasn't looking at what she was working on but on a paper on the couch beside her. Every so often she stopped her needle work to pick up a pen and make notations. When I asked her what she was doing, Kylen said, "Dan and I are starting up a medical journal so the scientists can publish some of their research. I'm just reading a submission and making notations and corrections."
The first time I thought she might actually want me too was when she read that ridiculous romance book. But I was too afraid to act on it. I was not too afraid to get her to sit beside me. Her theories and insights on those trashy romances she reads showed me a Kylen that the world never sees. She is a hopeless romantic at heart. Over the first few weeks of the epidemic I wanted her so much it hurt. But she was worn out and distracted all the time, and it seemed best just to keep her close. I did what I could to help her through it.
To me it seemed selfish, wanting her in my bed. That first time when I ran into her in the corridor was a spur of the moment idea. Later when she fell asleep in my bed I decided to sleep too. She fits nicely against me. After that first time I was like an addict. I would plan to "accidentally" run into her. When she started keeping some things in my quarters, it made the place different. I would be in the middle of a meeting with Saul and see a pair of earrings sitting on the shelf near the bunk, or a stray book about something called 'High Flow Oscillating Ventilation' (whatever that is) and 'Diffuse Lung Damage.'
That night when I was dealing with civilian unrest due to the epidemic and she wrapped her arms around me and spoke in my ear, I felt arousal move through me like wildfire. It was sudden, swift and hot. I wanted her but I reacted badly. I ended up giving her the "just-be-friends" speech when I really wanted to take her in my arms and to my bed and not let her go until I had learned everything I could about her body.
I was fighting myself and in the process I hurt her. As I made my speech I could see her shock and pain. I wanted to take the words back and make it all better. I could physically see her backing away from me, wounded from my words and actions. I knew she had been letting me take the lead; I also knew how hard it must have been for someone like her to give up control. I tried to make up for my harsh words but was too late.
That of course led to these last few days of hell. I usually can find anyone I want to on my ship. She has proved that theory wrong. Kylen Salik can be a damned hard woman to find when she doesn't want to be.
Leave it to Starbuck to have the most up-to-date recon. I should promote her to captain for this.
Starbuck caught me a few hours ago in CIC. After a quick salute she asked if I could talk to her, in private. I got Saul to cover for me and had Starbuck follow me to the ward room. I thought it had something to do with Lee and her. It didn't. She was nervous, but determined about something. Finally Starbuck said she had just talked with Kylen and that my sweet CMO thought that I didn't care for her and that I just wanted to be friends. Kylen had told Starbuck that she'd fallen in love with me and that she was planning on quitting the service and leaving the Galactica.
In love with me. In Love With Me. That one sentence is all I could focus on until Starbuck mentioned about Kylen planning to leave the Galactica. Like hell she will.
Starbuck pointed out that if I didn't do something about this now it would be too late and she muttered something about damn stubborn Adama men. I asked where Kylen was. Starbuck told me she was in her quarters, probably writing a letter of resignation. After that all Starbuck said was, "Excuse me for saying so, Sir. But, make this right between you. She makes you happy."
I hope Lee is more intelligent than his father and does not screw up what he and Starbuck have. Women like Starbuck don't come along every day.
Saying "I love you" to Kylen was the hardest thing I have done in a while. It was also hopefully the smartest. This wasn't like when I was younger, and romance was all fire and heat. What Ilyia and I had had was wonderful, but we'd had only intense short periods of being together followed by my long duty shifts away from home.
This relationship with Kylen started more slowly and built on thousands of small day-to-day interactions. When Kylen said that had I gotten under her walls, she has no idea the fortifications she had passed to get to me. Sharing morning coffee or as she calls it now "synthetic dishwater", discussing literature, talking about art over dinner, listening to her curse at me while I refine her boxing technique, oh and reading me that romance novel when I couldn't see. That was a new one. I almost stopped her when she started reading but then decided I wanted to see how far she would take it. After that it was just a matter of deciding what would be a fitting way to "have my revenge". She is the only one I know who can take an insult like "devious bastard" and turn it into her pet name for me. That I think it's cute says a lot about my feelings for her.
Now it is morning. I'm still here in her quarters and her bed. Despite my words last night, we both were so tired we have slept through the night. We have a little time, but not much.
I affectionately watch her awaken from sleep. She asks me, "What time is it?"
"Almost time to get ready for shift. But we have about an hour."
"So much for the 'pajamas optional' invitation."
"I guess we were both more tired than we thought." I have an idea, and hope she'll go along with it.
I move so now she is under me. I am supporting some of my weight on one of my arms, but our lower bodies are pressed together. The change in position has put my body between her legs. I watch her flush slightly and bite her lip as I feel her press up against me, in an almost uncontrolled response. Lords but she feels good. I can feel my body react to her actions. My free hand slides under her open uniform jacket and then pulls the tee shirt tails from her pants. I make a promise to myself that the next time she's in bed with me she will not be in uniform or scrubs. She shivers when I finally touch her skin. She is looking me in the eyes when she says, "Bill, you'd better not be starting something you do not plan on finishing."
Her eyes are wide and dark brown. Her breathing has increased noticeably with my simple exploration.
"Just a little something to help you wake up Kylen."
I scoot over and pull her on top of me. She can leave if she wants, but stays pressed against me. Meanwhile, her arms are now around my neck and her mouth is soft and open as we kiss. Both my hands are under her shirts, tracing over the bare skin of her back. Her skin is soft and a pleasure to touch. The material of her bra is in the way of my exploration. I move a hand around to her side and in-between our bodies, I slide it under the material of her bra. She arches against me. I let my fingers roam over the sensitive flesh and feel how responsive she is to my touch. I am so lost in the feeling of her skin and her mouth that I almost don't notice when her body begins to move against mine in a rhythmic pattern, her breathing is fast and hard, I can feel her heart racing. She tears her mouth away "Bill."
I ease my hands away and pull her close to me. She is trembling in my arms. "Shh." That went a hell of a lot farther than I had planned.
This little make-out session has had an effect on me as well. I think I will be taking a cold shower this morning. First time for that in a while. Damn, I'm going to have to get to my quarters first. Next time we are "sleeping" in my quarters.
I decide to try and inject some levity into this little romantic fiasco, and Kylen's comment from last night about kissing a virgin pops into my mind. "So about that virgin comment."
Kylen's breathing and her heartbeat have slowed but are still faster than normal. Her voice has a low husky tone as she states, "I should kill you for what you just did to me."
"Sorry, I got a little carried away. I love touching your skin."
Her eyes do not meet mine and she is quiet. Whether it is from our little foreplay or from what I have just told her I'm not sure. Could she be embarrassed? I know she doesn't see herself as pretty. I have heard her describe herself as average. True she is not what most would consider drop- dead gorgeous, but it is her vitality, her personality, her wit and I don't know else that makes her beautiful in my eyes. Then again, I'm nothing great to look at either with these scars from my viper accident. I long ago became used to seeing them in the mirror, but she has to look at them all the time.
"I wish I could say you can use my shower, but only the Commander has a private head. On the topics of showers as your doctor I would recommend a very cold one."
I chuckle. Not much gets past her, although, this would be hard to miss. "No kidding. Give me a few minutes and I'll leave you in peace to get ready. What's your schedule like tonight? We have a lot to discuss."
She is looking into my eyes giving me her "Medical Stare of Disbelief" as she replies, "Discussion, is that what they call it now a days?"
The End
Standard of Care
Epilog
By Lt. Kathy "Doc"
If anyone told me that I would be lying in bed holding a woman in my arms who is my CMO and who is thirteen years younger than me, I would have sent them for a fitness evaluation. But I am here, in her bed. She is a warm comfortable weight beside me.
I remember back to before the Cylon attacks when I first heard the name Dr. Kylen Salik.
Dr. Cross, my old CMO and I knew each other's habits and worked well together. After he asked for a meeting, we were seated at the conference table in my quarters. He said, "Commander, I've enjoyed serving under you these last five years, and would love to stay for the decommissioning ceremony, but because of civilian commitments, I will be unable to, especially given that the decommissioning has been postponed another seven weeks. I would never leave you without a CMO so I've talked with Picon Fleet Medical. I hope you don't mind."
It wasn't a big problem, but I didn't like the idea of the Galactica without a CMO even for such a short period of time. Life has taught me that emergencies or disasters rarely give anyone a heads-up. Yet, I didn't want to interfere with his plans for his new civilian practice, living with his wife near their kids and grandchildren. I decided to see if he had any ideas and asked, "No, but what arrangements can be made? Who can we get for a short assignment?"
He smiled and with a voice full of wonder said, "I have no idea how this happened, but Fleet Medical sent me a message this morning informing me that the head of Trauma & Critical Care at Picon Fleet Hospital, a Dr. Salik, will be filling in as your CMO until the Galactica is formally decommissioned."
That was good news. "Good. Anything I should know?"
"Dr. Salik, from what I understand is brilliant, very intense, and demanding. She was made a division head at Fleet Hospital in record time, and during her three-year tenure has made Fleet Hospital one of the best throughout the twelve Colonies for Trauma and Critical Care. From what I hear, she is considered a rising star."
I had no idea then what Doctor Salik's temporary posting would lead to.
I first met her when she reported to me for duty in my office. She was shorter than I expected, with brown hair, brown eyes, and a calm voice. There was nothing to indicate the person Dr. Cross had described or what I had read in her forwarded personnel records. I had expected a whirlwind, an intense individual who would turn the Galactica upside down in her last few weeks as a real battlestar. To me, Dr. Salik didn't look like a woman who would even disturb the dust on my bookshelves.
Those were famous last words. After only a few days reports began to cross my desk about various upgrades needed in the Life Station. It was nothing out of the ordinary. We did have one tense interaction when she wanted to look into integration of the Life Station's computer system, but after a discussion where I did most the discussing, she backed down.
Next thing I know a medical report arrived on my desk revoking Starbuck's flight status. It's all proper and within Fleet guidelines. The damn forms were even filled out in triplicate. If Starbuck was aware of this, things were going to get ugly. I knew Starbuck would put our temporary CMO in her own Life Station, as a patient. I went down to the Life Station to see if I could mediate. Instead I saw Dr. Salik giving Starbuck an ultimatum. Not only that but in a not-so-subtle way she let Capt. Spencer and myself know that she was not backing down on her order and that neither one of us had better interfere. Before Dr. Kylen Salik, no one had ever given me an order on my own ship that didn't have the rank of Admiral in front of his or her name. But according to Fleet law, she was within her rights. I couldn't overturn it.
Intense and high powered indeed.
That turned out to be only the beginning. What followed next was an inventory of all medic kits and disaster pods. There were also formal emergency medic training and medical disaster drills. I was hearing a lot of grumbling from Saul. Surprisingly, not so much from Chief Tyrol although his deck crews were certainly being drilled as much as those in CIC and other ship areas. I later found out that Chief Tyrol had asked Dr. Salik for assistance transferring my old Mark II viper on board Galactica using non-standard "Fleet Connections".
I met with her once to ask the reason for all the intense drills and inventory given that the Galactica was being turned into a frak'n museum. Her answer was an echo of my own thoughts. "Commander, while the Galactica is to be decommissioned soon, until that time this ship needs to be medically ready to handle any disaster or assist in an emergency. Emergencies or disasters rarely give advanced notice." I told her to carry on with my blessing.
The day of the Cylon attacks I never had to think about emergency medical problems, it ran like clock work. As we engaged the enemy, there was no confusion as to where med pacs were located, or how to use what was in them. Dr. Salik occasionally updated Saul about ship casualties and medical issues but it was all in the background and did not interfere with our protection of the civilian fleet as we FTLed away from Ragnar.
After the jump from Ragnar, I began to make visiting the Life Station a semi-regular stop. I usually know everything that goes on in the Galactica. It was only a matter of time before my intelligence network picked up information about Dr. Salik. It tuned out that my CMO was a coffee aficionado. Well, actually a bit more than that, a coffee addict. She had managed to bring her own supply of coffee on board through what I can only describe as non-standard "Fleet Channels". The coffee was not pre- ground but whole beans. She ground the beans fresh each time she made a cup. It wasn't just any brand either but that really expensive extra- smooth Picon Mountain Blue. I love my coffee as much as anyone, but I have learned to drink what is available. Any kind of coffee was becoming scarce in the fleet. When I learned that I had a person onboard who had high quality hard-to-get coffee and even ground her own beans, I knew I had to take advantage of it. It paid off too. Damn, the woman made one fine cup of coffee.
I still have no idea why I asked her to dinner that first time all those months ago. Perhaps, it was a reaction to my participation in the birth of a new human after so much death and destruction. I don't think the small glass of ambrosia she gave me was to blame. As I asked I was asking myself what the hell I was doing. I never eat in the mess.
When I met her later in the corridor, she still looked tired. In the mess hall I had a new experience, when she told me what to eat. Half the time she would just reach out and place a food item on my tray without even asking me. But it was her bedroom voice comment that brought me up short. Interesting, she liked my voice. Vanity thy name is male. I think it was then that a small part of me began asking what other things she might like. She was well read and had an interest similar to mine in art. Overall she was an excellent dinner companion. Except for the Dr. Baltar side bar. At first I couldn't figure out what was her interest in him, and if I was honest with myself, irritated that he seemed to capture her attention. Her subsequent explanation restored my good mood, but I made a mental note to have Saul keep closer tabs on Baltar. I tried not to question my irritation and subsequent good mood too closely.
After Baltar attacked and injured Kylen, it was almost too easy to start spending time with her, reading her books, and later going to the gym for exercise and to help with her rehabilitation. The first time she tried to use a weight machine to work her arm I laughed so hard I lost my balance and fell down. I couldn't remember when I had last laughed like that. I hadn't been doing that much for myself since the Cylon attacks. I had forgotten how good it felt to exercise, and how enjoyable it was to sit and read something other than reports, to have someone to talk over small stuff with. Kylen helped me remember.
For months, I had shouldered the burden of command. I didn't complain, it was and is my job. But I had forgotten how to enjoy life, the simple pleasure of being with another person and not being the Commander. I had forgotten how good it felt to spend time with a woman who didn't call me sir all the time. Even when we are in public together and she uses my title, it sounds different, almost like an endearment.
Teaching her to box was my most brilliant idea to date. I can tell she doesn't like it much, but humors me. It was during one of our boxing sessions that I first heard her call me a "devious bastard". I just laughed although she looked like she thought I was going to court martial her for it.
When I saw her that night in the Life Station standing there in her scrubs, I knew something bad was going on. I saw a lot of Battle fatigue when I served in the first war. I had just finished my shift in CIC and decided to swing by the Life Station. Earlier, I had been notified about the accident so I figured I would find Kylen there, and check up on Crewman Harper.
I saw her as soon as I entered the mostly dark Life Station. I had never seen Kylen so distant, so cut off. The comment she later made in my quarters about blood on her hands was more alarming being said in a toneless voice. Thank the Lords that she had instinctively followed my commands and let me take her to my quarters.
When she came out of my bathroom she looked even more tiny and lost in my clothes, her short brown hair wet. The only thing I knew to do was to hold her in my arms and let her grieve. I knew she was grieving for the loss of a patient, I was surprised to find out she was also grieving the loss of technology and other services that would help her do her job. Despite what she said I was certain she had done her best period.
Underneath my concern was the thought that it felt right holding her. That first night in my bed, I knew that she was more than a friend. I was beginning to care for her, a lot. I watched her sleep, and was relieved when she awoke and told me she was going to be ok. I had always called her Doctor, except in my private thoughts where she is Kylen. Lying in my bed with her was the first time I allowed myself to say her name out loud. I loved the way she said my name.
I stayed awake after she returned to sleep, shocking myself by wondering how she would look in my bed without my sweats on, and naked after making love. I imagined how her skin would feel, the sounds she would make. I hadn't thought about a woman in that way since my divorce. Even as I was thinking about her I was chiding myself, "Stupid old man, what would she ever see in you? She's an officer under your command for frak sake." I eventually fell asleep, but when I awoke, she was a warm soft weight against me. I could feel the effect the morning and her presence had on me. She didn't even move when I got out of bed to shower, change and get started on some reports.
I watched her asleep in my bed. She looked "right" there. When she told me she was thinking about me, I was surprised, surprised and pleased. Touching her, even through my old sweats was a pleasure I could not deny myself. When she said I was special it took all my will power not to take her in my arms. Our subsequent conversation didn't surprise me. Kylen tends to be direct. I knew what she was trying to say. I was still trying to deal with my thoughts and feelings from the previous night, and didn't want to try and discuss them until I could figure out what in the Lords of Kobol I was going to do. When she let me off the hook I breathed a sigh of relief. I did know one thing, I was not ready to let this woman out of my life.
I love touching her. Which is why I guess I do it. She had complained about my reluctance to have her touch me. It wasn't because I didn't want her to but because of my own reaction to her touch. I'm still not sure what there is that draws her to me, I've been in the Fleet all my adult life. I don't consider myself a "catch" after one failed marriage, a son who only now I am getting close to after a two-year separation, and another son dead, in part because of me. She could do much better with someone who is closer to her own age and who can at least understand her job. Sometimes when she talks about her work I listen but really only understand about every third sentence.
I think her intelligence is frightening. One evening she was sitting on my couch with her legs crossed beneath her and in her lap was some needlepoint she was working on. Her hands were flying, but she wasn't looking at what she was working on but on a paper on the couch beside her. Every so often she stopped her needle work to pick up a pen and make notations. When I asked her what she was doing, Kylen said, "Dan and I are starting up a medical journal so the scientists can publish some of their research. I'm just reading a submission and making notations and corrections."
The first time I thought she might actually want me too was when she read that ridiculous romance book. But I was too afraid to act on it. I was not too afraid to get her to sit beside me. Her theories and insights on those trashy romances she reads showed me a Kylen that the world never sees. She is a hopeless romantic at heart. Over the first few weeks of the epidemic I wanted her so much it hurt. But she was worn out and distracted all the time, and it seemed best just to keep her close. I did what I could to help her through it.
To me it seemed selfish, wanting her in my bed. That first time when I ran into her in the corridor was a spur of the moment idea. Later when she fell asleep in my bed I decided to sleep too. She fits nicely against me. After that first time I was like an addict. I would plan to "accidentally" run into her. When she started keeping some things in my quarters, it made the place different. I would be in the middle of a meeting with Saul and see a pair of earrings sitting on the shelf near the bunk, or a stray book about something called 'High Flow Oscillating Ventilation' (whatever that is) and 'Diffuse Lung Damage.'
That night when I was dealing with civilian unrest due to the epidemic and she wrapped her arms around me and spoke in my ear, I felt arousal move through me like wildfire. It was sudden, swift and hot. I wanted her but I reacted badly. I ended up giving her the "just-be-friends" speech when I really wanted to take her in my arms and to my bed and not let her go until I had learned everything I could about her body.
I was fighting myself and in the process I hurt her. As I made my speech I could see her shock and pain. I wanted to take the words back and make it all better. I could physically see her backing away from me, wounded from my words and actions. I knew she had been letting me take the lead; I also knew how hard it must have been for someone like her to give up control. I tried to make up for my harsh words but was too late.
That of course led to these last few days of hell. I usually can find anyone I want to on my ship. She has proved that theory wrong. Kylen Salik can be a damned hard woman to find when she doesn't want to be.
Leave it to Starbuck to have the most up-to-date recon. I should promote her to captain for this.
Starbuck caught me a few hours ago in CIC. After a quick salute she asked if I could talk to her, in private. I got Saul to cover for me and had Starbuck follow me to the ward room. I thought it had something to do with Lee and her. It didn't. She was nervous, but determined about something. Finally Starbuck said she had just talked with Kylen and that my sweet CMO thought that I didn't care for her and that I just wanted to be friends. Kylen had told Starbuck that she'd fallen in love with me and that she was planning on quitting the service and leaving the Galactica.
In love with me. In Love With Me. That one sentence is all I could focus on until Starbuck mentioned about Kylen planning to leave the Galactica. Like hell she will.
Starbuck pointed out that if I didn't do something about this now it would be too late and she muttered something about damn stubborn Adama men. I asked where Kylen was. Starbuck told me she was in her quarters, probably writing a letter of resignation. After that all Starbuck said was, "Excuse me for saying so, Sir. But, make this right between you. She makes you happy."
I hope Lee is more intelligent than his father and does not screw up what he and Starbuck have. Women like Starbuck don't come along every day.
Saying "I love you" to Kylen was the hardest thing I have done in a while. It was also hopefully the smartest. This wasn't like when I was younger, and romance was all fire and heat. What Ilyia and I had had was wonderful, but we'd had only intense short periods of being together followed by my long duty shifts away from home.
This relationship with Kylen started more slowly and built on thousands of small day-to-day interactions. When Kylen said that had I gotten under her walls, she has no idea the fortifications she had passed to get to me. Sharing morning coffee or as she calls it now "synthetic dishwater", discussing literature, talking about art over dinner, listening to her curse at me while I refine her boxing technique, oh and reading me that romance novel when I couldn't see. That was a new one. I almost stopped her when she started reading but then decided I wanted to see how far she would take it. After that it was just a matter of deciding what would be a fitting way to "have my revenge". She is the only one I know who can take an insult like "devious bastard" and turn it into her pet name for me. That I think it's cute says a lot about my feelings for her.
Now it is morning. I'm still here in her quarters and her bed. Despite my words last night, we both were so tired we have slept through the night. We have a little time, but not much.
I affectionately watch her awaken from sleep. She asks me, "What time is it?"
"Almost time to get ready for shift. But we have about an hour."
"So much for the 'pajamas optional' invitation."
"I guess we were both more tired than we thought." I have an idea, and hope she'll go along with it.
I move so now she is under me. I am supporting some of my weight on one of my arms, but our lower bodies are pressed together. The change in position has put my body between her legs. I watch her flush slightly and bite her lip as I feel her press up against me, in an almost uncontrolled response. Lords but she feels good. I can feel my body react to her actions. My free hand slides under her open uniform jacket and then pulls the tee shirt tails from her pants. I make a promise to myself that the next time she's in bed with me she will not be in uniform or scrubs. She shivers when I finally touch her skin. She is looking me in the eyes when she says, "Bill, you'd better not be starting something you do not plan on finishing."
Her eyes are wide and dark brown. Her breathing has increased noticeably with my simple exploration.
"Just a little something to help you wake up Kylen."
I scoot over and pull her on top of me. She can leave if she wants, but stays pressed against me. Meanwhile, her arms are now around my neck and her mouth is soft and open as we kiss. Both my hands are under her shirts, tracing over the bare skin of her back. Her skin is soft and a pleasure to touch. The material of her bra is in the way of my exploration. I move a hand around to her side and in-between our bodies, I slide it under the material of her bra. She arches against me. I let my fingers roam over the sensitive flesh and feel how responsive she is to my touch. I am so lost in the feeling of her skin and her mouth that I almost don't notice when her body begins to move against mine in a rhythmic pattern, her breathing is fast and hard, I can feel her heart racing. She tears her mouth away "Bill."
I ease my hands away and pull her close to me. She is trembling in my arms. "Shh." That went a hell of a lot farther than I had planned.
This little make-out session has had an effect on me as well. I think I will be taking a cold shower this morning. First time for that in a while. Damn, I'm going to have to get to my quarters first. Next time we are "sleeping" in my quarters.
I decide to try and inject some levity into this little romantic fiasco, and Kylen's comment from last night about kissing a virgin pops into my mind. "So about that virgin comment."
Kylen's breathing and her heartbeat have slowed but are still faster than normal. Her voice has a low husky tone as she states, "I should kill you for what you just did to me."
"Sorry, I got a little carried away. I love touching your skin."
Her eyes do not meet mine and she is quiet. Whether it is from our little foreplay or from what I have just told her I'm not sure. Could she be embarrassed? I know she doesn't see herself as pretty. I have heard her describe herself as average. True she is not what most would consider drop- dead gorgeous, but it is her vitality, her personality, her wit and I don't know else that makes her beautiful in my eyes. Then again, I'm nothing great to look at either with these scars from my viper accident. I long ago became used to seeing them in the mirror, but she has to look at them all the time.
"I wish I could say you can use my shower, but only the Commander has a private head. On the topics of showers as your doctor I would recommend a very cold one."
I chuckle. Not much gets past her, although, this would be hard to miss. "No kidding. Give me a few minutes and I'll leave you in peace to get ready. What's your schedule like tonight? We have a lot to discuss."
She is looking into my eyes giving me her "Medical Stare of Disbelief" as she replies, "Discussion, is that what they call it now a days?"
The End