Kara knew almost the exact moment that Lee surrendered to sleep. His expression relaxed, his body loosened, and the sigh he gave sounded like unbridled relief. She released a breath of her own, leaned her head against the wall behind her, and sent a prayer to the Lords for strength – his, hers, and for the fleet in general. Lee might be the one on the floor this morning, but it would hit them all eventually. She knew that it would.
Kara also knew that she had an ordeal yet to manage. She had seen the Commander come to the door quite some time ago. He had stood in the doorway, listened to them for a moment, and then thankfully he had retreated back into Lee's office. Kara didn't think Lee was ready to deal with either his father or the details of the accident just yet. He needed to sleep.
So she sat there with him until her legs were numb and her back was aching. Finally realizing that she would have to get up at some point, and believing that he was far enough out that moving wouldn't wake him, she began a coaxing, pleading, pushing effort to get him off the floor and onto the bed. It wasn't a quick procedure, but it worked. It was something that Zak had taught her years before.
Kara smiled at the memory. Lee had been studying for finals, and he'd gone four days straight on strong coffee and pure nerve. He had crammed and studied subjects that he had already known by heart, but he had wanted to do more than pass the tests. He had wanted to ace them – and he had. When he'd come in from his last exam, exhausted but thrilled, Zak had managed to talk him into enjoying a glass of ambrosia with them as a celebration.
As tired as he had been, the alcohol had put Lee out like a light. And while Kara might have been content to leave him sprawled on the dormitory floor, Zak had insisted that Lee with a sore back was not who he wanted to cope with as a roommate. So between the two of them, they had sweet-talked, tugged, nudged, and cajoled him until he had climbed up onto the couch. Zak had taken off his boots, Kara had brought a blanket, and Lee had been out for almost twenty-four hours. When he crashed, he tended to do it right.
And this had been a crash. She wasn't strong enough to lift him, but after several minutes of coaxing, nudging, tugging, and begging she managed to get him to climb up onto the bed. She got his boots off, then unzipped the orange coveralls he was wearing and tugged them off as well. Leaving him in his underwear, she wrestled the covers from beneath him and tucked him in. She stood there for a moment longer, relieved beyond belief that he was finally resting, and then she leaned down to kiss him gently on the forehead. He was such a strong man, and he'd held her together so many times; how could she have forgotten that anyone who gave so much of himself would eventually run out of strength to share?
With no more to do, and no logical reason besides fatigue to put it off any longer, she quietly left his room and pushed the door closed behind her. She spun the hatch-wheel once for good measure, and then turned to face her commanding officer.
"How is he?" Adama asked, and the expression on his face was pure concern.
"Exhausted," she admitted. "I slept last night, but I don't think he did. I'm not sure about the night before that. Between the new job, losing a world, and tonight…" She shrugged. She didn't have a clue how he'd made it this long.
"Thank you," William said softly.
She furrowed her brow. "What for?"
"Being here for him," the Commander said gently. "He… needed someone. I don't think he could have opened up to me that way."
"Yeah, well, it's nothing you haven't done for me," she said with a tired smile. "I think he'll be okay when he wakes up, but I doubt that'll be anytime soon."
"He tends to… push himself."
She didn't respond to that. It would have been confirming the obvious. "So, are you here to arrest him?"
William Adama shook his head, looking very old and very tired. "It was a very… unfortunate series of mistakes," he said quietly. "Lee gave the order, and the Specialist relayed it to someone else for Launch notification. The launch crew was never notified because that technician was called to do something else, the loose panel had taken out the camera in that section of the tube so that Specialist Sanders wasn't seen, and then when he went in, no one had any idea that he was there. It wasn't until the Viper pilot hit him and reported a problem with launch that they even realized there was a problem."
"So it wasn't Lee's fault," she concluded.
"It wasn't anyone's fault," the Commander said, rubbing his hands over his face. "Lee was right giving the order, the launch crew was right following the schedule, Sanders was right doing his job, and even the technician was right because the situation that he was pulled for was urgent. Hindsight tells us where the breakdown was, but there is no blame to be placed. There will be a formal inquiry of course, but the facts are pretty clear."
Kara sat down on the edge of Lee's desk and surveyed the mess that he'd made. Adama was sitting in the chair that Lee had not thrown, because the one he had was a bent and broken mass of metal still leaning on the far wall of the office. "This is going to take a while," she muttered absently.
"Were you hurt?"
Kara smiled and shook her head. "I'm pretty spry," she explained. "The job's been getting to him for a while. I knew it, but until tonight he was keeping it together. I really think we need to bring in someone else to share the responsibilities until things settle down. It was almost more than Ripper could do, and he wasn't in a wartime situation."
"Sounds like a Lead Pilot is in order," the Commander agreed. "You're second ranking among pilots; so that means you."
"Gee, thanks," she muttered.
"The two of you work well together," Adama reminded her. "It'll be a good match. When or if the job becomes more manageable, we'll reevaluate the situation accordingly."
"How are you going to get that past Tigh?" she asked dryly.
He winked at her. "I outrank him," the Commander said simply.
Kara grinned back, but her heart wasn't in it. She looked around the room once more and sighed. "I need to clean this up," she said absently. "He doesn't need any reminders when he wakes up."
"I'll bring in another cup and chair, if you'll clean up the papers," Adama suggested.
Kara nodded, and didn't look over as the Commander stood, grabbed the bent and twisted metal that had been a chair, and left the room with it. She was glad that she wasn't the one carrying it through crew quarters; the questions wouldn't be ones she was willing to answer. As the Commander, Adama wasn't likely to be questioned on anything.
Kara slid off the desk and sat down in the middle of the floor. The rosters had gone every direction, but Lee had them marked so clearly that it was not difficult to get them back into a proper order. Once she had, Kara put them back on the left corner of his desk where they belonged. Next she went after the pencils and pens, gathering them into one hand and trashing the few that had broken in their collision with the wall. She set them on his desk while she started on the shattered cup. She got up the big shards first, and then the smaller pieces. She shrugged off her work shirt so that she could use the material as a broom and keep from cutting herself on the smallest pieces. Finally, the job was finished, and the room was in some semblance of order. If she hadn't watched Lee come apart, she wouldn't have believed it from a glance at the office.
At the very least, Kara was feeling calmer now. The mundane tasks of cleanup had wiped her mind clear of the morbid and fearful thoughts that Lee had planted there with his deepest concerns. He was right; they were warriors, and yet they were as helpless as the civilians. They were supposed to defend and protect the colonies, and they had not accomplished that goal. Everything they had trained for had finally come to pass, and all they had been able to do was run, fast and far and frightened. It went against everything the Colonial Service believed in, and yet there had been no choice.
Rationally, she knew that no one could have predicted the infiltration of their computer systems; and yet William Adama had – it was why they were still alive. So it wasn't completely impossible to outthink the machines. And thankfully the one man who had managed the feat so far was running things from here on out. At least, she hoped he would. He didn't look a hell of a lot better than his son at the moment. That thought brought her back around to Lee, and she walked over to his bedroom hatch and eased it quietly open.
He was still curled up in a ball, much as he had been on her lap, but at the very least his features were calm and he was sleeping. She crept over to him, gently running a finger down the side of his face, just watching him. He was so strong; so independent. And yet, under it all, he was no less human than the rest of them. He had his limits, and this morning he had slammed into them in no uncertain terms. She hadn't realized just how overwhelmed he had been. Lee never argued about responsibilities, he simply did what he was supposed to. She wondered absently how much longer he would have held together if a tragedy hadn't triggered this explosion. Somehow, she didn't think he would have made it very long.
A sound behind her pulled her attention to the doorway, and William Adama's concerned face. She gave him a quick thumbs-up, then ran her finger along Lee's face one last time for good measure. Turning, she left his room, pushing the door shut so that their talking wouldn't wake him.
"Still asleep?" the Commander asked.
She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off a sudden chill. She supposed it was the adrenaline drop following the emotional scene she'd just been through. She glanced down at the clock on Lee's desk, grateful that it hadn't followed the pencils into the wall, and noted that it was nearly seven. She had four hours until she was on duty. Lee was supposed to be going on duty now.
"I've already arranged to have his shift covered," William told her. She jerked her glance to him and smiled. He always had been a mind reader. "And yours as well. You've been up as long as he has."
She nodded at that. She was too damned tired to argue. "Thank you."
The Commander nodded and gave her a smile. "Go on in," he said, gesturing towards Lee's bedroom. "I don't think you want him waking up alone."
She stared at him, her eyes wide and startled. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Was he giving permission for the very thing he had been going to discipline Lee for? Was he giving his consent or even his blessing to… whatever relationship they had? "Sir?"
"Do I need to make that an order, Starbuck?" he asked with a wink.
She shook her head. "No, Sir, but…"
"Kara, you were right," he told her softly. "Everyone needs somebody, especially with the world coming apart around us. We need our CAG in one piece, so… take care of him. And let him take care of you, too. Something tells me that the Lead Pilot job won't be much easier than CAG, and you'll need some rest if you're going to get it done."
Kara smiled at him. "Thank you," she told him. Then, after a moment, "And that's from both of us, I think."
The Commander smiled, and then leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "You're a very special woman, Kara Thrace," he told her gently. "My boys have good taste."
She didn't know what to say to that, so she just stood there and blushed while the Commander turned and left the office, shutting the door as he did so. She stood a moment longer, replaying his words and their implications, and then she turned and walked towards the bedroom. She eased inside, grateful for the well-oiled hinges. She walked silently towards Lee, and watched him for a long moment. He seemed so peaceful that she didn't really want to disturb him. But she was tired, and she knew that if she went out to her own bunk she wouldn't sleep at all. Here next to him, she had half a chance.
The bed was backed up against the wall, so she had to climb over Lee to get in. This was going to be fun. She unfastened her work pants, took off her boots, and in simple military issue underwear she carefully climbed over Lee and wiggled her way under the covers. She was surprised at how warm it was there, and Lee's heat was almost magnetic. She inched closer to him, half-afraid of waking him, even though she knew it wasn't a likely possibility. If she could get him from the floor into the bed asleep, simply putting her arm around him shouldn't wake him. Should it? Taking a chance, she snuggled up to his back, curved her body around his, and put her arm across his body. He murmured slightly, grabbed her hand and tucked it up near his chin, and held on as he slept. With tears in her eyes, Kara closed her eyes, kissed the middle of Lee's back, and snuggled in to sleep.
Kara had no clue how long she'd been lying next to Lee – half on top of him – when she heard the buzz of the phone. She hadn't bothered with anything as mundane as checking her watch or looking at the clock. She was just enjoying the rare feeling of being warm, and held, and rested.
She wasn't entirely sure how she had wound up on top of him in the night. She had curled up behind him, and when she'd awoken he'd turned on his back and was holding her close. She had one knee in between his, her head on his chest, and she couldn't imagine a single position she would have enjoyed more.
Lee looked worlds better. The shadows beneath his eyes had faded, and he almost looked like himself. Almost, because he never looked like "Lee" without his eyes open. There was something intense about the startling dark blue that just made him who he was, gave him life, and made her feel so safe. It was dumb. There was an old Caprican poem said that the eyes were windows to a person's soul, and she didn't know about that. But she did know that Lee's eyes could tell her everything from whether or not he was really mad to whether or not the joke was on her. His eyes hid nothing, at least not from her. With his eyes closed, he was just a little bit guarded, but it was worth it. He had needed the sleep. They both had.
She was still contemplating the mysteries of ocular expression when she heard the buzz of the phone again. She decided that whoever was calling must surely die, but she reached over Lee and grabbed for the receiver that was installed in the wall. Her only thought was to silence the buzz before it woke him – it never occurred to her that she was answering the phone by his bed while he was sleeping there.
"What?" she growled into the mouthpiece.
"Well, good morning," came the amused response. "What did I interrupt this time?"
Kara blushed blood red, despite the fact that the Commander couldn't see her face. "Just trying to keep him asleep a little longer," she said in just over a whisper. "Is there a problem?"
"I just wanted to know if the two of you are up for duty today, or if I need to keep you on the sick roster?"
Kara glanced down at Lee. His eyes were fluttering, his body shifting slightly. No matter how quiet she stayed, she wasn't going to be able to keep him asleep indefinitely. Still, he needed some time to wake up, to process all that had happened, and if he chose to go back to sleep that should be an option as well. "One more day would be good," she told him.
"You've got it," he agreed. "Lee had the rosters set for the next two weeks, so it isn't hard to make adjustments. I have Tyrol assigned to quarters as well. It's time we all slow down, take a step back, and re-evaluate our situation. Otherwise, we'll lose more than one man to exhaustion or fatigue-induced mistakes."
Lee's eyes were finally open – blue and clear and damned confused. "That's for sure," Kara told the Commander. "When should we report?"
"Tomorrow, oh-seven-hundred," he answered. "Both of you. Today if you're up to it, start delineating the Lead Pilot responsibilities. Get them divided reasonably, and we'll decide whether the two of you will need parallel shifts or opposites."
"Sounds great," she said honestly. Lee was wide awake now, and he was watching her. Suddenly she didn't want to be talking to his father; she needed to be talking to him.
"Then I'll see the two of you in the morning," Adama concluded.
"Thank you, Sir."
"Enjoy, Starbuck," he concluded, and she had to smile at the laughter in his voice. She shook her head as she braced a hand on Lee's chest to reach over and return the phone to its holder.
"Hi," he said once she had returned to her previous position mostly next to him, her leg still tangled between his.
"How do you feel?" she asked without preamble.
He was quiet for a moment, most likely taking a personal inventory. "Tired," he admitted. Then, with a smile, "Like I've been hit by a tanker."
She grinned back. "Yeah, well you've had better days."
"Are you okay?" he asked her, and she almost laughed at the serious expression on his face. She felt better than she had in days. "I'm good," she told him with a wide smile. "I slept pretty well."
"I don't have to ask who was on the phone, do I?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "I can count the people you call 'sir' on one hand, and most of them are dead."
"It was your dad," she confirmed.
"When's the inquiry?" he asked. The dread in his voice was clear.
"Not sure," she admitted. "Mostly it's a formality. No blame is being placed, and most likely we'll just have a revamp of the safety procedures to be sure it doesn't happen again."
He absorbed that for a minute, his arms tightening around her body, but otherwise not indicating that he had heard her. "You answered my phone," he commented.
"I was trying to get it before it woke you up."
"Does my dad know you're answering my phone at…" he looked at his watch. "Eight in the morning?"
"He knew I'd be here," she said simply. "He said you had good taste."
"This makes two days in a row that I've been late to work," he muttered. "With any luck they'll buck me down to Lieutenant and give my job to you."
"Actually, it's the third," she corrected. "There was that first morning when your dad showed up, and yesterday morning you'd just got to sleep when you were scheduled to go on, and this morning too."
"How long did I sleep?" he asked in confusion.
"A little over twenty-five hours," she told him. "You had it coming."
"It explains a lot," he said with a small groan. "I hurt all over."
She looked at him sideways for a minute, then moved off him. "Turn over," she told him firmly.
"What?"
"Turn over," she ordered with a shove. "On your stomach. Now."
With a glance that held something between confusion and irritation, he complied with her order. Once he'd put his hands beneath his chin, she began tugging up his undershirts.
"Hey!"
"Shut up," she muttered, pushing the material up and out of the way. Thankfully he did. She got the material shoved away, and then straddled his hips to start rubbing his shoulders and back. As she'd expected, it was like kneading rocks. Between the tension of the previous weeks and the physical exertion of tearing apart his office, his back was a mess. She started in methodically, working from his neck to his shoulders, and then down his spine. He grunted each time she hit a new knot, but otherwise he didn't comment. Gradually, as her hands started to cramp, she began to find fewer sore spots and his back was no longer so tight. His eyes had closed, his expression was calm, and his arguing was at least delayed.
She stopped for a moment, stretched out her hands, then eased down his legs. She slipped her thumbs beneath his underwear, moving further down his spine, and enjoying the fine texture of the hair on his lower back. He wasn't an overly hairy man, but there was enough to give his body a masculine feel. Kara wasn't above enjoying him. The massage was mostly for him, but the fringe benefits were notable. He was a joy to touch.
When she'd gone as far as she could without stripping him, she moved her attention to his arms. She rubbed and kneaded and stroked until she had lost all track of time. She was actually so involved in what she was doing, and how much she liked doing it, that he startled her when he rolled over beneath her and nearly unseated her in the process. Only quick reflexes kept her upright and on his legs as he wound up on his back. His arms came up to stabilize her, and the smile on his face took away the irritation she'd felt at losing both her comfortable seat and her freedom with his body.
"If you wanted me to stop, you could have said so," she muttered, reaching up to grab the hem of his shirts and pull them down. His hands covered hers as she did so, pinning them flat on his chest.
"I didn't say I wanted you to stop," he said softly.
"Good," she replied with a wicked grin. "I get to do the front, too?"
"How much trouble do you want to be in?" he asked carefully.
"I'm not in trouble," she said. "And neither are you."
"Not that I'm not… enjoying the attention, but an explanation might help. Last I checked, I was up on charges of failure to report, fraternization, and PDA, as well as confined to quarters pending an investigation regarding the death of a crewman. Now you're in my bed – with my father's approval, apparently – and all is well with the world. I know I slept a long time, but nothing's making any sense."
"You father admitted he might have overreacted to the other morning," she said simply. "He was surprised, and he thought you were in bed with someone you didn't even know. I don't see how that makes any difference but he's a father so that's how he thinks. Anyway, he admitted that under the circumstances, the crew was going to have to learn to take care of one another. That includes the command level, and you and me as well. He also agreed that the CAG position was too much for one person in a wartime environment, so he assigned you some help – a Lead Pilot. His last order to me was to come in here, be here when you woke up, and take care of you. Does that clear it all up?"
"Clear as mud," he admitted. "But it's probably my mind more than your explanation. Everything still seems kind of muddled."
"You're allowed. That was the bottom line with your dad. We're human – all of us. We need to be treated like people instead of machines, otherwise we're no better than the Cylons. There's no point to survival if we tear one another apart in the process, or if we get so tired that we start making mistakes. For now, there's no sign of Cylon pursuit, so we're going to slow down, adjust some shifts to allow for more rest and more down-time, and chances are damned high that productivity on the deck will increase even though less time is spent there. Or that's the way I understand it."
"So when are we on duty?" he asked, his brow furrowing again, and his blue eyes locking with hers. The man had beautiful eyes – they shouldn't be legal.
"Well, today we're supposed to start dividing CAG duties and come up with a formal job description for Lead Pilot," she told him.
He smirked. "Who gets that position? I don't think anyone in squadron would put up with me."
"Yeah, well I'm exceptionally patient," she muttered.
"You?" His eyebrows went up in surprise, and she could swear the expression on his face was a smile.
"So it seems. Anyway…"
"Wait a minute," Lee said, grabbing her hands, which had unconsciously been petting him once more. She hadn't been trying to divert him, but he was just so damned touchable. "My dad assigned the two of us to work together – like partners?"
"I said that," she murmured, not at all sure where the joke was. He looked like a cat who had swallowed a bird. "Now, are you going to let me finish?"
"By all means," he invited, beginning to rub the hands he'd been holding. Damn, but the man could be distracting without even trying.
"So you and I divide up the duties, and then we'll look at how best to serve the shifts. For now I'm thinking one seven to fifteen, and a fifteen to twenty-three, but I'm sure you'll have your own ideas. Maybe you could handle the paperwork and I could handle maintenance assignments? I don't know. We'll pull out the OIs for CAG, and start dividing. Then as of tomorrow, oh-seven-hundred, you have help."
"So, I'm stuck with you?" he asked, and she couldn't read his expression at all. The smile had faded, but he didn't look upset, or angry, or even as though he was considering it. He just looked… odd.
"Well, if you can't stand working with me, we can look at another person for the position. I got hung with it because I have the most time in grade for the Lieutenants, but it's not written in stone. The bottom line is that you need help; the job is to much for one person in a wartime environment."
"And who told the Commander that?" he asked softly.
She took a deep breath and prepared for the explosion she was sure would come. "I did," she admitted. "But he agreed. In fact, I think there are a lot of assignments he's going to be reviewing. We lost a lot of people, and with the increase in duties we just don't have enough men to take up the slack. So the Commander will look at the job assignments, make sure that hours are reasonable, and probably initiate some kind of mandatory fitness program or something to make people take care of themselves and burn off some of the stress. At least, that's the impression I got. He didn't say all that in so many words, but the implication was there."
"You've been talking a lot," Lee said, and this time his eyes were not on hers. They were on the wall, the ceiling, the light; anywhere but on her.
"We both care about you," she said on a sigh. "And we both worry. You've been doing too much – or trying to – and neither one of us wants to see you burn out."
He still wasn't looking at her, and it bugged her. She hadn't stepped in to upset him, but rather to make his life more manageable. He had done so much for her, and she really just wanted to give a little back.
"I'm sorry if I've overstepped or anything," she told him softly.
"No," he corrected, squeezing her hands gently and shaking his head. "It's just… I didn't expect it. You're full of surprises."
She smiled at that. "I always have been."
"Yeah, you have. So, today we just do paperwork, correct?"
"Yup. Divide up the job, set the schedule, that kind of thing. You dad has the duties covered until tomorrow. Oh, and get some rest," she added. "It may be a long time before we get another break."
Lee's smile was slow and sure, reaching his eyes for the first time in memory. Kara just goggled at the sight. She'd forgotten about the cute dimple he had, or how his eyes crinkled when his smile was big enough. "Rest?" he asked, and she could have sworn his eyes were twinkling.
"Yeah," she said warily. She wasn't sure what to think of this Lee.
The next thing she knew, she was on her back, looking up, and Lee had neither released her hands nor lost his smile. If it had been anyone else, she would have been frightened by the unpredictable maneuver, but it was Lee. She could never be afraid of Lee. "What are the chances of my dad coming down here?" he asked smoothly.
"Um… not high," she admitted.
He leaned down then, and he kissed her. Hard. Perfect. A long time later, when his personal inventory appeared to be finished and she was fairly sure he knew that she'd lost her tonsils when she was six years old, he lifted his head. "You realize, we're going to be together a lot," he told her. "Planning, scheduling, and even if we work opposite shifts we'll probably be off at least one stretch a day together."
"Yeah," she admitted warily. "Is that a bad thing?"
He smiled again. "It could get out of hand," he told her, and his expression was no less than tentative. He was worried. How she answered him was important, and for some reason he wasn't sure which way she would go.
She leaned up and kissed his chin, quick and gentle. "I hope so," she told him quietly.
His smile returned, his eyes sparked, and as he descended to kiss her again. Kara had a feeling that it would be a while before the rosters got checked or the duties divided, but she couldn't find it in her to care. Lee needed this even more than he needed a helper on the job, and if she was honest she knew that she needed it too. And whether or not it was out of hand, it felt good, and it felt right, and they could analyze the rest of it when they were damned good and ready.
The End J