Lee wasn't sure how long he forced himself to lie there. He did so until he was absolutely certain that his movement wouldn't disturb Kara. He did so until he was sure that simple movement wouldn't cause him to fly apart. He did so until he could breathe without pain.
Rationalize. Hell, it was what he did best. He needed to get this into perspective before he made a big deal out of nothing. He was great at rationalization. Facts first: He and Kara had been together six months. At best, that was an off and on proposition. Neither had declared undying devotion for the other, although last night he had wanted to. Lords, he had wanted to, and it had nothing to do with the sex. Rational. Right. It had just felt so good to have someone there for him, around him… but was she really there for him?
She and Zak had been together for years, literally. Lee was pretty sure that sex had been a part of that relationship a very long time before the engagement, which had gone on for six months. So if he thought about it, half-asleep and out-of-it, if she were to go with the odds then calling Zak's name was not all that unlikely. Zak had also probably told her a thousand times that he loved her, so those particular words would likely send a sleepy mind in that direction. That was all it was, Lee assured himself. A tired mind and a mixed-in memory. That was all it could be.
Or could it. Frak, even he hated the way he over-thought the most basic of ideas. But this time he did, because her words had stung. More than stung, if he was honest. He'd never told a woman he loved her. Not ever. And to do so, and then be reminded that she loved Zak, had been more than an irrational, sleep-deprived mind could take. Hell, if she was sleep deprived and sleepy, then didn't he deserve the same consideration? He could be frakking irrational if he wanted to be; he'd earned that right.
But irrational or not, he couldn't change how he felt, and he needed sleep. He couldn't manage that curled up next to a woman who didn't even know who he was. And if that was childish, then fine. He really didn't give a flying frak. The ready room had beds, pillows, and even blankets. It didn't have Kara, or warmth, or quiet… but right now the constant traffic flow and peace of mind were more important than comfort.
Gently, carefully, he disengaged himself from Kara. It wasn't easy. Especially in that it wasn't only his arm under her head, and behind her back, and his knee between her legs – but there was also another part of his anatomy that hadn't quite given up hope, and moving now was psychological torture. The odd part was that they often fell asleep this way, and laughed about it in the morning. After all, if an alert was called it would take them half an hour to untangle their limbs.
He wasn't laughing. He just wanted to get free without waking her. It took him some time, and effort, and more than one strained moment when she tried to snuggle closer even as he moved away. Somehow he managed it, though. Once up, he cleaned himself off, put his shirts and sweat pants back on, and headed to the ready room. His last glance of Kara was her curled around his pillow as though seeking warmth. The sight was seared into his mind by the time he made it to a bed.
Luck was with him for a change, and the room was mostly deserted. He grabbed a pillow – a privilege reserved for the pilots who protected the fleet in this world of too many people and too few supplies – and then a couple of blankets. Wrapping himself mummy-style, he took a cot, backed himself up against the wall, and tried to turn his mind off.
There were a couple of times when he heard the murmur of voices, but they were quickly silenced at the sight of the CAG trying to get some shut-eye. Hell, he would be answering questions for a week with the rumor-mill such as it was, but he'd already decided to claim a simple case of insomnia and not wanting to wake Kara. At least, that as the popular version he'd planned. Lords knew what he was going to tell Kara herself.
Gradually, painfully, Lee eventually eased into a troubled sleep.
Kara woke, stretched out, and smiled. The vague soreness in certain bodily locations told her that the night before had been something worth remembering. She had some vague impressions – Lee above her, warmth, utter relaxation for the first time in memory. Hell, if it hadn't been for that telltale soreness and dampness between her thighs, she would have thought she'd dreamt it. As it was, she headed for the shower and a very quick rinse, then dried off and dressed for her morning run.
She was disappointed. Lee was already up and about, although not in his office. She knew, because that had been the first place she'd checked. She assumed he was out running one errand or another, but didn't let it bother her. After all, they both had things to get done. In her case, she had a run to do, and maybe some time in the weight room, and then her shower and getting ready for duty. If she wasn't mistaken, she was slated for a flight today, so that also meant checking the Viper, arguing with whatever tech she got until she could get her hands on Tyrol for the real scoop, and then finding Lee for a kiss before she got out of there. It was a dumb tradition, but one which had served her well. So long as she got her kiss for luck, she figured she could conquer the world.
It was something Lee had started months before, right after they'd come together as more than friends and less than anything else. If either of them had a flight, they made a point to get a kiss before leaving, knowing that so long as they'd said good bye, then both would be fine on the mission. The law of the universe, used for good. If they planned for problems, then problems never occurred.
Once Lee had even gone out without his kiss – she'd been tied up in command – and he'd lost an engine half-an-hour into the flight. It hadn't been all that dangerous, but it had set the pattern for self-preservation that they observed even today. Superstitious as hell, but she could live with it; most pilots relied on something irrational to get their butts into the cockpit.
So, in all, Kara's morning wasn't a bad one. She ran, grabbed a decent breakfast, then showered in main quarters so she wouldn't use up Lee's hot water. If it all seemed a bit incomplete as she walked down to the flight deck to check her bird, then she tried not to dwell on it.
"Morning, Starbuck," Sharon called out as Kara came down the stairs. While Kara was content to smile back and wave, Sharon had different ideas. "So, what's up in lover's lane?"
It was too early for anger, so Kara settled on confusion. "Huh?"
"Oh, right," Sharon joked. "The CAG just sleeps in the ready room for fun. Seriously, Kara. What happened?"
Kara shook her head. "Nothing happened," she argued. "He was in his room last night. He worked late, came to bed… I'm sure he came to bed."
"Well, he didn't stay," Sharon said softly. "Maybe he had work to do or something," she suggested. "But I saw him myself around five, sound asleep from what it looked like."
Kara's brow furrowed. Sharon had no reason whatsoever to lie to her. "Why would he…?"
"He's a guy," Sharon said with all the wisdom of a woman who had lived with one for half a year. "Who knows what they think."
Kara grinned, but she wasn't feeling a lot of humor at that moment. She wanted to know where Lee was, why he wasn't there, and what in hell he'd been doing in the ready room.
By the time she'd checked her bird, made sure that all lines were secure and electrical equipment operational in addition to standard checks required of her, she was getting antsy. Lee knew the schedule – hell, he made the schedule – and he'd never failed to meet her before a launch. In confusion and more than a little frustration, she headed for the ready room to put on a flight suit and prepare for the long-patrol. She had another rook as her wingman, so she wound up helping the kid with his own uniform as well as managing her own. That didn't bother her; what did, was that Lee was nowhere to be seen. Something wasn't adding up, and she didn't have time to redo the math.
A glance at her watch confirmed what the speakers were announcing. Flight Team Beta, Thrace and Rockman, were to be on the deck. She didn't have time to go looking for anyone. Frak.
She was more than a little short with the rook as she completed pre-flight procedures, looking over her shoulder half the time and expecting Lee to come jogging up for a quick good bye. But it didn't happen, and when she wound up secure in her Viper, moved into position, and then – how in the hell had it happened – launched on a ten hour patrol to the absolute outside rim of their capabilities, she was as much worried as she was hurt.
She could have called back to the Galactica, but she didn't want to answer the questions it would bring about. Most of the pilots would understand the superstition of checking-in with the CAG before a launch, but there was no way she was running her fears and concerns through CIC to get there, especially with his father at best, or Tigh at worst, there to intercept the message. No, she'd just have to settle in for the next ten hours of routine flight without the tactile memory of a gentle kiss for luck. She had never thought that it would bother her so much.
If she had known that Lee Adama was standing in the bay, watching her with the same inner-disturbance, only coupled with an anger and betrayal which he was only beginning to understand, then she might have felt a little better. Or she might have felt a lot worse.
"How's the patrol?" Lee asked in what he hoped was a casual tone. Gaeta looked back over his shoulder, giving a knowing glance but saying nothing about the way Lee had hovered over his shoulder for the last hour.
"Out of sensor and wireless range," the Lieutenant reported. "But that's expected. If all is well, we should see them back in our range within another two hours. If we don't have them thirty minutes after that, I'll notify you."
Lee nodded. It was nothing he couldn't see for himself, but damned this was killing him. Yes, he'd been angry with her – although he couldn't explain just why – but they'd been angry before and had still been there for one another. He felt like he'd condemned her or something by not following through on their little ritual, and that bothered him. She'd made a thousand flights without his supervision, and likely would a thousand more. Nothing was different, really.
But why did today have to be a long patrol?
With the exception of direct battle with the Cylons, the high distance long patrols were the most dangerous of a pilot's duties. The Galactica used only passive scanners, just in case there was a Cylon listening post located anywhere they might pass through to pick up active wireless transmissions. It was damned unlikely, but a precaution they had to take. This meant that a Viper was outside their scanning range within two hours of launch. On a ten-hour patrol, that left six tedious hours during which anything could go wrong, and a pilot would be completely alone but for his or her wingman. Today, Kara was flying with one of the rooks they'd moved up from shuttle flight, and while the kid was good – really good – it was his first long patrol and they had no way of knowing how he'd handle it. Lee would have much preferred to be by Kara's side if an engine went out, or leaked developed in the oxygen or coolant systems, or the Tylium wasn't exactly measured as it should have been. But instead of him, it was a twenty-one year old boy from Picon who had happened to be flying with his dad when the war had begun. Granted, the kid had potential. He'd had the sense to cut engines and lose his power signature so that the Cylon's wouldn't go after the shuttle he'd been in, and he'd taken to Raptors like a duck to water, but that was a long way from being a Colonial Warrior.
Still, Rockman had done his time in the sims, and he'd done his share of short patrols as well. He couldn't learn if he didn't do, and for training Kara was the best there was. She could even out fly Lee in that respect because while he had the instinctual knowledge, Kara had the ability to put that knowledge into language a Rook could understand.
So logically, there was not a damned reason in hell to worry about her, or the kid, or the patrol. He had reports to organize, a schedule that still was unbalanced, and none of it was getting done with him standing by a silent monitor in CIC and thinking the worst.
"Captain Apollo?"
"Hmm?" he said, turning to face Colonel Tigh. How long had he been there while Lee stared at nothing?
"Is there a problem?" the older man asked.
Lee shook his head, because there wasn't. Or at least, there shouldn't be. "No, Sir," he finally answered. "I'm always concerned about rooks on long patrols. I guess it has me more than a little edgy."
"Thrace may be a pain in the ass on the ground, but she'll get that kid through the flight," Tigh assured Lee with more than a little irritation in his voice. If he'd been less tense, Lee might have smiled. Tigh hated admitting when Kara was the best man for a job; hell, he hated to admit a woman could do anything off her back, but that was the older man's problem.
Lee's problem was that he wouldn't know a damned thing for two hours at best, and that was going to fry his brain if he didn't get to work. Reluctantly and yet with purpose, Lee left CIC for his office. He wasn't getting anything accomplished there.
Unfortunately, in his present state of mind he wasn't able to get much accomplished anywhere. He had flown a short patrol that morning – all he would trust himself with given his lack of sleep – and had planned to spend the rest of the morning trying to juggle the schedule for next week so that there was time to train the new rooks and still have personnel to cover all the patrols. He wasn't all that successful.
He also wasn't terribly pleasant to be around, as he'd realized when the third tech had come to ask something and hadn't passed the threshold to his office. They were positively cowering, so he could imagine what he must look like. He'd spent a great deal of time and effort in recent months trying to get to know his crew so that he could best place them, and also so that they knew they could trust him. The week before, he'd had a crying warrior come to him because she had found out she was pregnant and couldn't fly. He had taken her by the hand, found the father, and somehow got the two of them down to Elosha so that the situation could be worked out. He had never known that pregnant teenagers would be a part of his job description, but some of the rooks were barely eighteen. He'd had to learn to be approachable.
Granted, he wasn't feeling that way at the moment. He was feeling angry, hurt, and frustrated with himself because he should have just talked to Kara about it rather than giving her the silent treatment. But it was always easier to ignore a situation than to confront it. He tended to have trouble keeping his temper in line once he started trying to discuss something, and he didn't want to lose control around Kara. Doing so just might get him hurt. Or worse yet, it might force him to hurt her in self-defense, and as bad as he felt, that wasn't what he wanted.
"Captain Apollo?"
Lee's head jerked up to the empty doorway before he realized that the voice had come from his handheld wireless. He'd left the frequency open so that he could get any reports from CIC. "Copy," he responded into the unit. "Report, please."
Gaeta's voice seemed a little anxious, but Lee tried not to worry. "The patrol is back in sensor range," he responded. "We have no wireless communication to indicate distress, pacing is appropriate. They seem to be right on schedule, Sir. Unless there's a problem, we don't anticipate voice communication for another seventy minutes."
"Roger," Lee said, releasing a breath in a slow and controlled motion. "Thanks. Apollo out."
He flipped the switch on the wireless to conserve power. He knew what he needed to – power was always an issue on a battlestar – and a part of him was relieved that he could have the unit off without guilt. Unfortunately, with that relief – and the relief of knowing that Kara's patrol was doing okay regardless of their violation of superstition – came a surge of the anger that had been just beneath the surface all day. As much as he rationalized it, and explained it, and tried to accept it… he just couldn't help himself. He was furious with her, and he was obscenely grateful that she was on her way back to the Galactica so that he could let her know just what was on his mind.
And yet with that certainty that he must confront her came a concern as well. Normally, when he finally let out any anger, it tended to explode like a Geminon volcano – explosive, colorful, and destroying everything in its path. Kara was one who knew him well enough that she would probably forgive that – eventually – but she wasn't one to be stepped on. Or yelled at. Somehow, between now and when she landed, he needed to get the situation clear in his mind, because if he didn't have it settled going in, he wouldn't get there afterwards. If he couldn't get it clear to himself, he knew he couldn't convey it properly to Kara. And if he didn't do this right, he just might mess up something that he was just beginning to realize the value of.
Because the bottom line of the whole matter – the thing that was tearing him apart – was that what he had told her was the truth. Somewhere along the way he had fallen in love with her, and he'd be damned if he'd let her know it again. It gave her entirely too much power in the relationship, and he wasn't willing to trust her that far with his heart… Not when she was calling his brother's name in the dark.