Chapter 10

Unsatisfactory Resolutions

I was beyond grateful to see the end of sixteen hour days and shifts seven-days a week. As pilots returned from Life Station – rescued by Doctor Salik's new wonder drug – things actually started to get back to normal. Kind of. She and the Commander are just about a set. If they're off duty, then they're together, and Lee thinks it's fantastic. Me, I'm just glad they're both happy. The Old Man walks around like he's got this permanent smile plastered on, and Kylen's almost as bad. I think she smiles all the time, too, but with the surgical mask no one can be sure. In any case, Lee and I have run into them for dinner more than once and they seem happy. No, they aren't into public displays of affection, and normally they call one another by rank – except for the times Kylen calls him a devious bastard, but he seems to ignore that – but it's pretty obvious that there's something there. Lee made the horrible joke that someone must be getting "some" and I nearly hit him. It's his father for Lord's sake! Then came the "old but not dead" argument, and I found someplace else to be. Lee still laughs at me for that.

Oh, Lee. Lords, what am I going to do with that? I still don't know what I want, but I need him on some level. I guess that's what I need to tell him, whether there's anything romantic about it or not. Lee hasn't made a pass, and hasn't even kissed me since the time he mistakenly woke up with me in his bed – can't blame him much for that – but it's in his eyes. He needs more than I'm offering, and it makes me feel like dirt. I took it to Kylen, and she threw my own advice back in my face. "Talk to him," she said. "If he's worth the time of day – and you already know that he is – then you also know he'll listen."

So that's the plan tonight. It's not a candlelight dinner, but it is sandwiches in his room with no interruptions and all shifts covered. I have begged, borrowed, and called in every favor owed to me in order to make this happen. It hasn't been easy, because I don't want to give anyone the impression that we're together, whatever the rumors have always been. We're used to ignoring those, but that doesn't mean I want to set the rumor mill into deliberate motion. Let them speculate if they like, but I won't give them ammunition.

The thing is, I don't have the guts to just ask Lee to meet me in his room, so the plan is to camp out there until he's off shift and in his office. I never thought I'd be afraid to ask Lee anything, but that's just what this has done to me. I managed to get the sandwiches, and a couple of drinks, and I'm just sitting here waiting for him to show up. I know his routine pretty well. He gets off shift, grabs a shower in the ready room, and then comes in here for paperwork. He says it's never done, and it helps him wind down from all the garbage that goes on during the patrol. It's hard to stay that wound up for eight hours at a stretch, and I understand his need to fall back on something mundane. I usually head for the weight room myself, but everyone's different.

A glance at my watch tells me that he's already running late. HIs shift should have ended more than an hour ago, and yet he hasn't come through that door. I'm sitting cross-legged on his bed - once more tightly made - and just staring at the damned door. Lords, when did it come to this? When did life with Lee become uncomfortable? He's been the one constant I can remember since the beginning of the war and now I can't even be sure that this one relationship will survive. It's a hell of a feeling.

Half an hour later, I'm getting annoyed. Of course, Lee would pick today to break with routine. When I finally hear the hatch opening, I'm just this side of ticked. He was supposed to have been here on time.

"Hey," he says as he steps through the door, his face showing clear confusion. I'm reminded then that he can't read my mind - couldn't have known I was planning this - but it doesn't completely alleviate my annoyance.

"You're late," I tell him, and even I can hear the edge in my voice.

He shrugs a shoulder absently. "I grabbed dinner with Hennings," he says. "We wanted to go over that new fuel regulator. I'm having some trouble with it, and I wanted to find out if he was seeing the same thing."

Logical explanations do not help my mood. "And you couldn't just ask me?" I say, and it's beyond edgy and downright bitchy.

"You don't have trouble with anything," he says in a wry voice. "So you're no judge. You compensate without even knowing you're doing it. Some of us have to think about what we're doing, and that makes it tougher."

It's tough to get mad at that much of a compliment. "So you've eaten?" I ask.

He nods, and I see his glance go to the desk where I have sandwiches set out. "You should have warned me," he says softlly. "I would have rather eaten with you."

Damn, I just can't stay mad at him. Trust me, I've tried. "Yeah, well I wanted to talk and it seemed like a decent peace offering."

Lee tosses his clipboard over onto the desk, neatly missing both the stack of paperwork he hasn't done and the dinner I have set there. Then he walks over and takes a seat on the desk the same way I'm sitting, facing me with his legs crossed and his arms resting on his knees. "What do you want to talk about?" he asks.

And that draws a sigh from me because I'm no more sure now than I have been in the past. I don't know what I want. I may never know what I want. But I know that I can't lose Lee, and I'm tired of hurting him. "What do you want from me?" I finally ask. "I don't have a clue what I want," I explain, "but I should be able to figure out whether or not I can... I don't know... do what you want. Maybe... be what you want."

He just looks at me, and I'm not sure what that is on his face. For once I can't read him as he sits silently on the bed, his eyes focused on mine but no discernable emotion. Lords, I wish I had his ability to read minds. But I don't, so I sit there and wait, and hope like crazy that he'll say something.

He doesn't.

Finally, I lose patience. "Well, say something!" I tsnap. "I'm asking for some advice here, and you're just sitting there like a rock."

He still sits, still looks at me. I rub my hands over my face, trying to figure out what to do, or what to say. I don't have a clue. I wait, and still he gives no response beyond the silent stare. He could be a statue for all the information he's giving.

"I knew this was a bad idea," I mutter in frustration. "Talk to him. What a crock. How in hell am I supposed to figure out what you want if you won't tell me?"

He's silent for a moment before answering that one. "Maybe I don't want to have to tell you," he says quietly. "Kara, it's not something you can decide. You have to feel it. And if you don't, I can't make you. I wish I could," he says with a slight grin and a shrug of one shoulder, "but it isn't that easy."

"But I don't know what to feel," I tell him in absolute exhaustion. "Lee, I just don't have a clue. I want you to be my friend, yes, but you promised that if we were more the friendship wouldn't be in jepardy. And I like being close to you. You're easy to touch, and I don't mind it when you touch me. And when you kissed me... well, it was pretty great. But I don't know how far you want this to go. I'm not asking you what I should feel; I'm asking you what you need. I don't want you to feel... short changed. I don't want you to settle, because you're my best friend and you deserve better than that."

And he's back to staring silently. Frak, I wish he'd give me some clue what he wants, but he's leaving this in my hands, and I don't want it.

"Why is it when you want to talk, it's okay, but when I want to talk you clam up?" I ask him bitterly.

Finally he moves, reaching towards me and taking my hands in his. He holds them, his gaze remaining on me until I look up and lock with those blue eyes. It's almost as though he understands the confusion and irritation, but doesn't. How could he have known that right then - at that moment - I had needed him to touch me? How does he do that? "I'm not trying to make this harder," he explains. "But I don't want to push you into something you're not comfortable with. If I sit here and tell you that all I want is terrific sex, and you agree to that, then I'll never know if you wanted it or if you just wanted me... somehow, and tolerated the request."

"Is that what you want?" I ask, my throat dry. He'd made it sound so cold, and I couldn't imagine him really thinking that.

"That's my point, Kara. It doesn't matter what I want. It's about what we want. You're a part of that. I'm not going to give you an instruction manual. Some things you have to fumble through on your own, and this is one of them."

"But I screw it up," I complain. "Lee, I always screw it up, and this is too important. If I lose you, then I lose me, and I'm just not ready for that. I don't think I ever will be."

"Okay, that's progress," he says as he squeezes my hands. "We can agree that we want to be together. Now let's move forward from there. What do you like?"

"What?"

He shakes his head and the smile is accompanied by a roll of his eyes. "I'm holding your hands," he says as though he's speaking to a child. "Do you like that?"

I think I'm getting the jist of where he's going with this, but I'm not sure. "Yes."

"Why?"

Now that one I have to think about. "Because your hands are warm," I say. He nods encouragingly.

"Any other reason?"

"Because you make me feel safe," I admit, and that one is a little harder. Admitting that he makes me feel safe means that there are times when I don't, and weakness isn't something I want broadcast.

"Alright, let's keep going," he suggests, and the grin he's giving me is just this side of wicked, complete with dimples. It's reallly not fair. "What else do you like?"

"I like flying with you," I say, trying to get back on some familiar footing. "You challenge me, and you keep me in line." Squeezing his hands I tell him, "And I don't have to hold your hand out there."

"What else?" He asks.

Damn, he's not making this easy. I'm getting sick of this being all on me, so I decide to go for shock value. "I like your pillow," I tell him. "I sleep better on yours than on mine."

His eyebrows go up at that. "Standard military issue," he reminds me. "Just like yours."

I give a shrug this time. "Yours smells better." It may be my imagination, but his cheeks seem a little pink at that comment. "And that's two for me. What do you like?"

This time his eyes lock solidly onto mine. "I like kissing you," he tells me, and I can see the intensity with which he's looking for a reaction.

I have to smile. We've kissed once, and it was fairly tame given what I've done - and what I'm pretty sure he's done - in the past. I wouldn't have thought it made much of an impact, but he's right... it was nice. "Me too," I tell him.

"Your turn," he prompts.

This discussion is getting easier, but it's moving out of safe ground. "I like having dinner with you," I say. "You always find something to talk about that takes my mind off the slop they're serving."

He gives a laugh at that one, right up until his expression sobers. I don't have to tell him it's his turn. "I like watching you," he tells me, and this time I know there's a blush there. "The way you move - totally smooth - and the way you get things done. It doesn't matter if you're running the decks or fixing a Viper, you're always in motion and always... gorgeous."

My eyes widen. Me? Gorgeous? Lords, the man's eyesight is worse than his father's. "Yeah, right," I tell him, and I'm not sure where the honesty slipped out of this conversation. "I thought we were being straight with each other."

His hand leaves mine to reach for my chin. I've looked down, not sure whether to be embarrassed or hurt by what he's said, but he makes me look back up. "I'm totally honest. You're not tall and skinny, and you're not a wimp. Every part of you is toned and healthy, and you're one of the few women who can both out-run and out-fly me. You've got adorable hair, you have the greenest eyes I've ever seen, and when you smile it lights up the whole frakking room. How's that for honest."

I think if he didn't have his finger on my chin it just might hit the ground. Zak had used to call me pretty, but he never justified that. I figured he was being polite. We got along, and we enjoyed one another, and there were just certain things that couples said to one another; that was one of them. But Lee made it sound like he believed it, and like he really did see something more than just a fit pilot with a penchant for throwing punches. "I never knew you saw that," I tell him quietly.

"It's not something you say to a girl who's just a friend," he explained. "It tells you I've been looking at you in ways that are... more than friendly."

I have to smile at that as well. "Hell, I looked at you back when we were at the Acadamy," I admit. "Half the women in flight school were hopelessly jealous of me just because we shared a room. I think it's the killer eyes, really," I thought aloud. "Either that or the dimples. Women have a thing for dimples."

"Really?" he asks.

I give him a shrug, because it's common knowledge so far as I'm concerned. "Coming or going you're a nice package. Tall, dark hair, blue eyes, great butt... not much more any woman could look for."

His hand leaves my chin then, reaching up to cup my face, his thumb stroking across my cheek and sending shivers down my spine. When his thumb moves down, making a single trek across my lower lip, I finally meet his eyes. They're darker than I've ever seen them, clear and blue and intent.

"I like that," I admit as his thumb moves down my chin, around my jaw, and back to my cheek. His fingers have slipped up into my hair, and Lords that feels good.

"I'm glad," he murmurs. "Do you like kissing me?"

My throat is a little dry, but I croak out a muffled, "Umm, hmm." It's the best I can do; the man is damned distracting.

I see a brief smile before he moves closer, his weight balanced on his knees while his lips meet mine, and then I'm lost. I don't know what it is about mouths moving together. It's not physical, because I've kissed and been kissed before and it's been little more than pleasant at best and disgusting at worst. But kissing Lee is... more.

And I do like it. It's like there's a direct line between where are lips meet and the electrical connections in my brain, and one turns off the other. I can't think when he kisses me like that. I can't breathe, and I can't move, and for all intents and purposes I'm just his. That has never happened with anyone else, and it frankly scares the daylights out of me. I guess it's just the intensity with which Lee does all things; where he's involved, there isn't room for anything else.

When he finally pulls back - his lips trailing down my jaw, back around my ear, across my forehead, and then leaving entirely so that he can look at me - I find that I'm flat on my back, stretched out on his bed, and he's just about half on top of me. His hands aren't anyplace they shouldn't be, and he's clearly just as shaken as I am, but I'm not entirely comfortable with the fact that he's put me in a fairly vulnerable position and I've let him. He must realize that I'm nervous, because he quickly rolls to the side so that his weight is off me. And then he just watches. I guess the next move is on me.

"That was... nice," I tell him, and damn but I think I must be beet read. I'm still breathing hard and I'm saking a little. For frak's sake, it was just a kiss!

"Better than nice?" he asks, and I see a hint of the same insecurity I've been feeling since things started changing between us. It occurs to me then that Lee has as much to lose as I do, and he's taking just as big a risk. What's more, his feelings are far more obvious than mine are, at least in their physical manifestation. I can feel him hard against my leg, although the way he's inching back tells me that he's not all that comfortable with how he's feeling. Either that, or he's afraid he's going to scare me off. After that kiss, I think I'd be more nervous if he wasn't showing some outward reaction, especially with my insides in an absolute knot.

Better than nice? Hell yes. But words aren't going to do it, I decide. The uncertainty in his voice pulls at something in me, so I decide to take care of two things at once. Leaning forward, sliding a hand around his back, I kiss him again. This time is no less intense, and no less surprising. I may have started it, but there's absolutely no control on my part. I hope that Lee is holding himself together better than I am.

Absently, I'm aware of his arm slipping beneath me and he rolls to his back, taking me with him. This puts me next to him, my chest on his, and gives me an odd sense of control over the kiss. I don't mind. I let it go on, and I even let it deepen. When I get a taste of him, I go deeper, and he doesn't seem to mind. His mouth tastes like his pillow smells - warm and comfortable and... right. So I settled in and kissed him - let him kiss me - and decided that the rest of the discussion could wait.

Lee didn't argue.