Never Better
"It's about damned time!"
I'm looking at the roster, and finally my name is on it. I had my doubts along the way. I was in that frakking cast for almost two weeks, and when it came off my hand looked like a noodle. Thankfully, a few days with a hard rubber ball has my grip back to normal. Fine, so it was more than a few days, but it's over now. I also had to do some stretching exercises and make sure to use the oil that Cassie slipped me to keep the scar soft and flexible. Yesterday I finally qualified back in the sims, and today it's the real thing. Well, tonight. Close enough. I can't wait!
Yes, I'm more than a little claustrophobic. You wouldn't know it because I live in a tin can – or what amounts to one – but the only way I stand it is that I get out of it on a regular basis. Nothing smaller than the openness of space is adequate, in my opinion. Lords, I've missed it. I talked to the Old Man about it yesterday – he's one of the few who really understands – and he was thrilled to hear that I qualified. It was the first smile I've seen on his face in longer than I can remember.
The Old Man and I go way back, to a time back before I learned to stay out of trouble and before he learned that there are times when trouble isn't a bad thing. He was actually fairly instrumental in getting me out of a nowhere job and into the Academy. He was responsible for my wings. It's amazing the power of a little faith, and that's what he had. He saw a kid with a feel for flying, and did his best to put her in the cockpit. I hope that I never let him down.
Six months after getting into the Academy, he got me a roommate. I'd gone through three of them, each more obnoxious than the last. See, the thing is that I don't just hop into bed with someone because we're in the same room. With a ten to one ratio of men to women, rooming conditions seemed to keep sticking me with grabby or obnoxious men who needed to learn some manners. Finally, the Old Man pulled some strings to get his son stuck in the room with me. I wanted to kill him for that.
Well, I did at first. Lee was… everything I wasn't. He came from a loving family, he'd had the advantages, and he followed rules as though they were his God. I tried like hell to resent that, but in time I realized that I had some things he was missing as well. The man had no clue how to have a good time. His concept of pleasure was re-reading an essay he'd done well on the semester before. He also had to work his ass off in the cockpit. He liked to fly, and he was good at it because he made himself learn it, but he wasn't born for it. Lee's skill comes from practice and dedication. I got my feel for flying the same way he got a loving family – pure chance. We each took our hand, and we played it well. Once we stopped trying to kill one another – or rather I stopped trying to kill him and he stopped trying to avoid me – we turned into pretty good friends. He was a lot like his dad if it came to that. We started hanging out, I started going home with him for holidays and summers, and somehow his family sort of… kept me.
Zak was Lee's baby brother, and he was everything Lee wasn't. He was young and brash and bright. He had more flash than substance, but he had a good heart. And for some reason – some still unknown reason – he loved me. Lords, how I fought that. One does not mess with a friend's little brother; it isn't done. But the kid was persistent, and even four years younger than me he managed to whittle away at defenses I didn't know I had. I think I went out with him just to shut him up that first time, and it was all downhill from there.
Ironically, Lee found it hysterical. When Zak asked me to marry him, Lee was the first one I went to. He kissed me on the cheek, smiled that "I told you so" smile, and I knew that it would be okay. I didn't know a thing about marriage or relationships, but if Lee thought I could do it, then I knew I could.
The truth was, I had reason for doubts. My track record with men had been beyond horrible. My first roommate had started out a fairly good friend until he cornered me against a bathroom wall after my shower. At the time, I had been pretty insecure about my place in life. The Old Man had worked so hard to get me into the Academy, and I didn't want to screw it up, so I went along. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't rape and I sure wasn't a virgin, but neither was it something I really wanted. By the end of the week he seemed to think I was his own personal property, everyone on the floor thought I was cheap, and I'd lost what I thought had been a good friend.
Roommate number two was little better. He didn't bother with friendship, and just went straight for the passes. I put him in the infirmary, and he may never have children. Well, there are some places a man can't put his hands and not expect a reaction! Once again, relationship ended, and sex was the cause.
That last roommate before Lee was just the opposite. He treated me like I had the plague. It wouldn't have been so bad, but he was fairly popular and within a week everyone else seemed to be treating me like I had the plague as well. It got old, I asked for an out, and thankfully William Adama came to my rescue. Again.
Lee was proper, polite, and everything a girl could want. He was also strictly "hands off", and that was fine with me. Sex had never really done anything good for me. It had paid for a dinner date or two, and it had satisfied curiosity, but frankly I didn't see what the big deal was. Lee didn't even suggest it, so the two of us built a friendship that has lasted through the end of the world.
Loving Zak was so easy, though. With Lee's blessing and the Old Man's encouragement, we set a date, hired a band, bought a dress… the works. At first, Zak was idealistic enough to want to wait until we were married to make love, but as reality (and youthful hormones) kicked in, we got a little ahead of the game. It really is different if you care about the person. It strengthened every feeling we had for one another. It was… perfect. It also screwed with my judgment and cost Zak his life. So much for sex being a good thing.
The Old Man forgave me, and Lee finally forgave him, and life since the end of the world has been as amicable as one could expect. I guess that's one reason I keep a safe distance from Lee. He's way too much like Zak for me to entirely trust myself there. Oh, I don't mean he's like him – they didn't look all that much alike, and their personalities were total opposites – but the caring is there. Sex with Lee would be more than an act, more than recreation, and that's why it's out of the question. I have few enough friends in the world; I won't risk losing one over a couple of urges that are best ignored. Besides, I couldn't bear seeing disappointment in the Old Man's eyes that I had jumped from one of his sons to the other. Even to me it sounds beyond horrible. The Old Man is just too important to me for that; he's important to all of us.
Which is one reason why I worry about him. He's lost weight since this mess began, and he never smiles. He carries the responsibility of an entire civilization on his shoulders, and he doesn't get a day off for anything. I've never seen him eat, rarely known him to sleep, and even Lee is worried about how he's starting to look. It wasn't the beginning of the war that destroyed him, but rather the day-to-day reality of keeping what's left of the world on its axis. It's too much for one man, even with the support of his son; even with the support of us all.
But he did crack a smile, and that was good to see. Then he told me that he'd just watched a miracle. I decided I'd bite, and asked him about it.
"A baby," he told me, and his voice was almost reverent. "I was in Life Station when a baby was born. Why I wound up staying there isn't really important, but to see this life come into the world where there wasn't one before… a life that wouldn't have existed without…"
"Without you," I told him. He got busy shaking his head, but I wouldn't let him deny it. "If you hadn't gotten us to Ragnar, there wouldn't have been a fleet, or the Galactica, or that baby. You did that."
"Anyone would have…"
I had to laugh at that. "Right, and that's why every other commander got blown out of the sky. At some point you're going to have to admit that you did a damned good job, and maybe when you do you'll start getting some rest. You can't do it all. Hell, now you're not only commanding the fleet but delivering the babies!"
His smile was worth just about anything. He didn't look quite so old when he smiled, and there was this flash in his eyes that reminded me so much of Zak that it almost hurt. Almost.
"It reminded me of when the boys were born," he told me. "Ugly little things, all bloody and screaming. Two of the most wonderful moments of my life." He smiled again, and this time it looked more wistful. "It's been a good day," he said softly. "Babies and coffee. A man can't ask for much more than that."
"Coffee," I said instantly. Of course; that was what I smelled on him. The man had found coffee, and it was totally unfair. "Where is it?" I asked.
He smiled at me. "Not telling."
All I could do was roll my eyes. I guess he has a right to his secrets. In a way, it was bad enough that I'd cornered him in his office to give him my good news. It was better that he'd had some good news to give me as well. I think he'd had his worries when I cut my hand, but he's so stoic at those times that you just can't be sure. He ordered me to get well and get back to work, and frankly from him it didn't seem sarcastic. He has nearly enough power to command illness and injury. Too bad it's not enough to counter death.
"I need to prep," I told him. He didn't need to hear any more than that; he'd done it too many times on his own.
"Stay away from the seals," he said as I moved towards the door from his office.
"No shit," I told him with a grin. And I meant that, too.
This patrol was a short one, and I was opposite Lee rather than Docks. I know that was because he didn't trust anyone else out with any injured pilot until he'd made sure they were flight worthy. Hell, nine times out of ten he sent me as the lead pilot. But this time I was the checkee instead of the checker; if that's even a word. I knew he was watching.
Instead of letting it get to me, I took it as some time with a friend. We stayed formal until we had launched and cleared the fleet, but then we weren't Starbuck and Apollo anymore. It was just Lee and Kara, and the wide-open sky around us.
Two hours. It's good to know that you've got some time to just enjoy being with a friend. And if I have to prove my competence as a pilot, then that's okay too. I've spent more hours in the sims this week than I can count, and I'm ready for whatever Lee throws. In his place I'd do the same thing. My hand will likely be sore when we get back, but it'll be worth it.
"How's the hand feel?" he asks. Do I know him or what?
"Just fine. What do you want me to do?"
"Just keep to course," he said, and that did surprise me. "If you say it's healed, then it's healed. If it's not, I need to know it, though."
He was taking me at my word. I would have rather fought my way through a test. I flexed the hand, extended the thumb, and then squeezed once more. "I'm fine, Lee," I told him, and I really was. He knew it, too.
"Good enough. We're heading straight out, running a passive scan, and coming straight back in. Nothing fancy; no heroics."
"Look, listen, and return," I say, unconsciously echoing his words to me, spoken a year before.
"That's it."
We fly in silence for more than an hour, but it's a comfortable one. My hand is actually feeling pretty good, if a little achy. I guess it'll take a bit longer before I'm ready for long patrols. I can live with that.
I hear the grin in his voice though as he finally speaks. "So, you never did tell me… how was Scalding Winds of Unquenched Desire?"
It takes a moment for the words to register – have meaning. Damn. The book; that stupid romance novel that I borrowed from Doctor Salik. I had only managed a few pages of it on my two-day furlough, but the two weeks cast-time had given me ample opportunity to read it. Twice. It wasn't something I was ready to discuss in mixed company. "It was… scalding," I say evasively.
"Cute," he fires back. "I'm serious, though. You said I could borrow it when you were done."
"I forgot," I lie. "I gave it back to the person I'd borrowed it from. Sorry."
He's laughing now, and I can feel a blush climbing from my chest to my face. Thank the Lords he's doing this now and not on the deck. If he'd done it there, I'd have to kill him. "You've always had eclectic taste in books," he tells me, still laughing.
And two can play at this game. "Yeah, well at least I haven't memorized the Caprican Yoga Manual," I say.
"You're the one who told me I needed to relax," he fires back. He's not even ruffled. I need heavier guns.
"You say a word about my literature choices, and you're going to be explaining why I find you standing on your head in your office," I say, only half threatening. We all have our secrets.
"I wasn't on my head," he corrects, but the laughter is more subdued now. "I was on my back. Granted, my legs were in the air, but that's not the same thing."
"Your butt was eight inches off the ground!" I remind him.
"The desk is a little high for that exercise," he tells me. "If I wanted to lock the position at my knees, I had to scoot up." He's not laughing now.
Lords, it had been a timeless moment, walking into his office to find his boots facing me, lower legs across the top of his desk, and the rest of him trailing down the side of that desk while he hummed with his hands beneath his head. I did what any red-blooded Caprican girl would do: I tickled him. After all, his sides were the perfect target. I couldn't resist. He'd curled himself up, his legs had slid, and the two of us had wound up on the floor of his office laughing too hard to get back up. It had been in the first couple of weeks after the war started, and it had been the stress release that we'd both needed so desperately. When the laughter had finally eased, he hauled himself up by the desk and reached down to help me up. I took his hand – warm and solid – and let him tug me up. The thing was, he didn't let go. He put both arms around me, rested his chin on my shoulder, and he held on so tight that for a minute I couldn't breathe. It wasn't Lee… hadn't been at all like him. But I held on too, because I'd needed the touch as much as he had.
I don't know how long we stood there that way, just squeezing one another like crazy. I do know that I had bruises on my ribs the next day. I'd be willing to bet he had the same. It was worth it, though. Things had been better after that; more hopeful, more purposeful. I knew what I was fighting for, and I think Lee did, too.
In a way, it's what we're all fighting for – the commander, Lee, the doctors, and even the deck crews. I know it's why I get up every morning, even on the days when I'm not going to fly. We just want to live, to be human. We deserve that right. As Lee and I enter back into the space surrounding the fleet, where even our private transmissions aren't, we drop the discussions of dirty books and relaxation routines. We're almost back to the Galactica, and my hand is hurting enough that the landing is going to be tricky. I don't want to screw it up. Things are finally back on an upswing, and I don't want to mess that up. I pray that Lee doesn't either.