Kara sat at the table and shifted uncomfortably. If anyone besides the commander had ordered her to come to dinner, she would have smacked them into the middle of next week. But Commander Adama had been there for her more times than she could remember, and there was very little she could deny him. If the man wanted her to eat, she'd do her best.
And she had to admit that the food was… edible. That was more than most food was on the Galactica, and she was trying to do it justice. Just moments before, there had been a knock at his door and he'd excused himself to answer it. And that was what had brought her here – sitting alone at a table and feeling distinctly out of place.
She heard the commander's deep voice speaking to someone, then the hatch swunging shut. In the quiet, she released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. This was the first time she'd had away from prying eyes and pathetic looks since she had moved out of Lee's room. It was selfish, but she didn't want this peaceful time to end. Dinner with the commander was undemanding and quiet; tonight she needed this. Her heart was still in pieces, and putting it back together was taking more time and energy than she really thought she had.
"Hey."
Kara's head snapped up at the voice that was most certainly not William Adama's, but rather his oldest son. "Shit," she said quietly.
"Yeah," Lee said, walking around the table and standing behind the chair his father had occupied. "He didn't tell me either."
She picked up the napkin from her lap and wiped her mouth, regretfully looking at the half-full plate that had been the best she had eaten in a long while. "I'll get out of your way," she said softly as she stood.
"Sit down, Kara," he told her, and there was something in his voice that she rarely heard; the same steel that laced his father's commands. "My dad said you haven't been eating, and I know I haven't. I don't even know what strings he had to pull to get this dinner together, and he threatened my life if it went to waste. So sit down, settle in, and finish your dinner. Then if you want to go, I won't stop you."
Kara thought about defying him, but her respect for his father kept her rooted in the spot. She didn't sit, but watched as Lee stepped around the chair and took his father's seat. He put the napkin on his lap, took a drink of water from the glass, and then watched her.
She stood for a moment longer, and finally decided that there was no point in letting a decent meal go to waste. She did her best not to look at Lee as she took a couple of bites of whatever was passing for a vegetable, and then reached for her glass. Then there was only the soft sounds of utensils against the plates and glasses clunking on the table. They ate in silence until the plates were empty, rarely looking at one another. At least, in the few glances she snuck at him he wasn't watching her. She wasn't sure why it bothered her.
"Well, that could have been worse," he said softly as he tossed his napkin on the table. "I guess it is possible for us to be in the same room without the world ending."
"So I see," she said. Then, her voice laced with suspicion, she asked, "Did you plan this?"
Lee shook his head. "My dad just told me to come to dinner. He said he'd make it an order if necessary. When I got here, he said to sit down and eat, or he'd send me to the brig."
She couldn't help but smile at that. "Sounds very familiar," she said with a smile. "I got the same thing."
He looked at her for a while, his blue eyes seeming terribly sad. She hated that she had put the look there. "Are you okay?" he asked her.
"I'm fine," she assured him, forcing a smile that she thought might pass as normal, at least if he wasn't paying too close attention. Apparently though, he was.
"I'm not," he said simply. "I miss you."
She looked down at her napkin. "I'm sorry."
"Look at me," he requested. If he had ordered it, she might have been able to ignore the request, but his voice was softly pleading. "Please." She finally glanced up, meeting his eyes, and her gaze was locked there. "You can't tell me you're happy this way," he said carefully. "I won't believe it."
"Why not?" She didn't deny it – she couldn't – but she wanted to know what she was doing to spoil the illusion. If she knew, maybe she could fix it.
"It's in your eyes," he said quietly. Then, after a moment, he gave a sigh. "Do you miss me?" he asked her.
She wanted to lie to him. She wanted to tell him that she didn't, that this had been easy for her, and that she had never needed him. She wanted to, but his voice demanded honesty. Something in the genuine pain that his voice carried prevented her from making light of her feelings. "Yes," she finally answered. "Sometimes a lot."
His eyes closed in what looked like relief, and his shoulders dropped slightly as though releasing a burden. "Then what are we doing?" he asked. "You know how I feel, and even if you don't feel the same way, I know you were happy with me. Weren't you?"
"Lee…" she began, but he didn't let her finish.
"I don't think I can be that far off," he said urgently. "You smiled more, and I know you slept more. Now you spend so damned much time avoiding me that you don't have time to do anything else. You can't tell me that's your idea of a good time."
"Yes, I was happy," she said carefully. "But I won't be with you because I'm an obligation. I won't stay with you because you feel guilty about something your brother did, or didn't do. I won't wonder if you're with me because you feel sorry for me; I can't live that way."
He didn't speak for a long time, and when he did he said the last thing she would have expected. "I love you," he told her. "I loved you before you ever told me any of what had happened in your past. In fact, my telling you that is probably what set this whole mess in motion. I told you I loved you, and half asleep you answered the only way you ever had. I realize that, Kara. I know it wasn't personal, and it wasn't some hidden agenda or misplaced desire. It was just… habit."
Kara didn't know what to say to that. She crossed her arms over her body, rubbing her arms with her hands to relieve the chill that seemed to be creeping over her. She just wanted to get out of here so she could have a good cry without anyone watching. She just wanted to get through the next few minutes without falling apart.
"Kara, I can't apologize for wishing you'd had an easier time of it growing up. Whether you believe it or not, you deserve better. You have one of the strongest spirits I've ever seen, and you're just about the most giving person I've ever known. I believe that deserves more than rough treatment and idiots who don't appreciate it. But I don't feel sorry for you. You were strong enough to get through it – all of it – and I'm thankful for that. You're also strong enough to put me in my place when I'm out of line, and get me back on track when I drift. You help me relax, Kara. You give me perspective that I just don't have when you're not there. You see people for what they are, and you don't give an inch, and you don't' even realize what a gift that is. But I see it, Kara, and somewhere in the last few months, I've come to rely on it. You make me… better. You don't just make life easier, but you make it better. And I know that half of what I'm saying can't make any sense, but it's how I feel. I love you, and I need you, and I'm absolutely miserable without you."
By the end of his little speech, Kara was shaking. She had tried to tune out the words, but they had managed to weasel their way through her defenses and find their way to her heart. Partly, it was because she felt the same way. Lee filled the gaps in her personality the same way she filled the gaps in his. It was why they were so good together, so good for each other, but that didn't make believing him any easier.
While she had sat there trying to find a way to fight him, a defense that she could use against his calm logic, he moved around the table to kneel down before her. She wasn't having much luck with thinking of why this shouldn't work – couldn't work – but she wasn't ready to give up. When his hands settled on her face, fingers in her hair and thumbs brushing her cheeks, she knew he wasn't going to play fair. "I screwed up," he told her quietly, punctuating the words with a gentle kiss. "I need you. Give me another chance." Another feather-light kiss. "Please."
She could have fought him if he'd screamed or argued, but his gentleness slipped under her defenses with surprising ease. Her eyes closed as he brushed his lips over her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. She wanted to run, or hide, or anything if it meant being able to control what she was feeling, but his hands held her suspended between reality and some fantasy that was beyond anything she had ever hoped. He wanted her, and he wasn't asking for anything in return. He loved her, and that didn't mean he wanted her to do something for him, or to him, or with him. He needed her… just the way she needed him.
The gentle touches of his lips had trailed down one cheek and to her neck. Sensations she had missed far too much began to settle in the pit of her stomach, and her arms uncrossed to slip around his neck in a familiar hold. She could almost feel the relief course though Lee at her action, and his arms encircled her body and he just held on. With his face tucked into her neck, and his arms around her body, he held her. He didn't demand anything more, or push her any farther, but instead he just held on as though she were the most precious thing in the world and he'd finally gotten his arms around her again.
She didn't pay attention to how long he held her. Time lost its relevance as he stood up, taking her with him, his arms never letting go. He turned around to sit in her chair, pulled her carefully to his lap, and then continued to keep her close to him.
Kara took the time to enjoy the scent of freshly shampooed hair and simple, clean man. His arms made her feel safe, and wanted, and yes… even loved. She wondered absently why that had frightened her so much before, and then she remembered.
Men didn't love her for no reason; they wanted something. They always wanted something. Even Zak, who had been better to her than any other man, had wanted to show her off. He had liked dating an instructor, and he had made a remark about the "Mighty Starbuck" more than once in their shared bed. She'd thought it was a fair price to pay for the comfort and security he provided her during the day, and the way he had taken her into his family.
But Lee didn't brag about her. He kept their relationship discreet, and he never demanded more of her physically than she wanted to give. He never asked for anything, although he'd never said no when she'd offered something new. And it had never been just about sex with them, either. He had held her after bad days with no expectation – or even a refusal – of sex. He knew instinctively when she was too tired, or too preoccupied, and he respected those times. It was the closest thing to unconditional understanding that she'd ever known, and she had reveled in it. He broke all the rules she'd come to understand when it came to men, never bragging or pushing or taking.
It was something she hadn't experienced before, and that was what had frightened her so much. Faced with losing it – the mere thought that he might make her go – she had taken the offensive and pushed him away as far and fast as she could. She had felt a taste of what it would be like to lose him because she'd made a stupid mistake – in this case, one she hadn't even been conscious of making – and instead of trying to fix it she had run for safety.
But until this moment, when his arms were around her, his head on her shoulder, and his lips at her neck… until this moment she hadn't realized that there were some things worth risking her heart for, some things worth fighting to keep. She hadn't realized that whatever time she could have of this, it would have to be enough because she might not find it with anyone else. Lee didn't just care about her… he loved her. Whatever that meant, he loved her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to him, kissing his hair and fighting tears. "I don't' know how to do this. I thought you wanted me to go, and it would be easier if I just did it than if I made you kick me out. I thought…" She sniffled, only then becoming aware that her face was damp. Oh frak, she was crying. Great. "I thought it was what you'd want; that you were only asking me back out of obligation."
"I asked you back because I can't think without you," he admitted with a humorless laugh. "I can't sleep, or eat, or fly. Do you have any clue what a pain in the ass that is? I can't even think to fly without knowing you're waiting for me to get back. Is that stupid, or what?"
She laughed at that, a damp and hiccuping sound. "I don't… I'm not even sure I know how to love. Not really. I sure screwed it up this time, didn't I?"
"I think we both did," he admitted with a sigh. "And if we both messed it up, then it will take both of us to fix it."
"Makes sense," she agreed, nuzzling her lips against the soft, short strands of hair. "Where do we start."
He pulled back until he could face her, and while his face was dry he didn't look any more certain than she felt. "Come back to my room," he requested.
"I'm not on duty," she thought aloud. "Your dad fixed it so that I'd have the night off. He said that if I got a full meal in me, then I might be able to sleep for a change."
"I am, but the only thing I'm flying is a desk. No one will care if I do the paperwork tomorrow instead of tonight. I can have Syrus pick up any CAG duties if they come up. It just takes a phone call."
"Isn't that changing the rules for personal reasons?" she asked him carefully, ever conscious that they set an example for the squad whether they intended it or not.
"If it straightens out the CAG from hell, I think they'd all stand up and cheer," he told her with a wry voice. "The last week has been… rough on everyone."
Kara nodded, and then moved to stand. His hands remained on her hips even after she'd taken her weight onto her own feet. "I'll clean up," she suggested. "Go talk to Lieutenant Syrus, and then I'll meet you in your room. It's probably better than if we walk down there together."
He nodded, but his hands didn't move.
"Lee, I mean it," she said with a soft laugh. "If we've made it ten days, then we can make it another half hour. I don't want to leave your dad with this mess. It was too nice of him to set it up."
Lee finally nodded, releasing her waist and standing up next to her. Before she could move clear of him, he took her face in his hands and kissed her with a gentleness so perfect that she nearly started crying again. "If you don't show up, I'm coming after you," he told her. "And I'm likely to bring a squad of marines with me."
She gave him her most mischievous smile. "I'll be there," she agreed. "Be ready."
He kissed her one last time, then slipped out the door. She watched him go, and then turned to the table to start cleaning up what was left of their meal. When she had done so, she left a short note of thanks on the table for Lee's father, and carried the tray of empty dishes to the kitchen.