She's lying beside me.

I don't know how it came to this, how we came to this, but she is here and alive and sleeping quietly next to me.

Starbuck. Even her name breeds hope. Her name is like her, free and wild, beautiful and untamed.

My Starbuck.

She's lying beside me, wrapped in my nightgown which is a little large for her muscular frame. She looks so beautiful, peaceful, no tell-tale frown, no restless betrayal of subconscious visions.

Visions of what happened to her down there.

Visions of what she did, what she had to do.

She did it for me. For humanity, yes, but also for me. Because she believed in me. Because I asked her to and she believed in me, so she did what I needed.

My Starbuck.

I never thought it would lead to this. I never saw her returning, bloodied and tired, but successful. I guess I didn't think it through.

I knew she'd return. I knew it would all work out somehow.

I just never saw it. I didn't see the glimmer of light playing on her close-cropped hair. I didn't see the way she looked at me, proud and defiant and jubilant and angry and helpless in her faith.

My Starbuck. Such an amazing creature, like Artemis herself bathed in golden light. Bold and brave, faster than thought and more enduring.

I think back to how this happened, how she came to my private quarters to debrief, how she told me of Caprica, of what was there, of her faith and of her fears. We kissed, at some point. I don't know why—maybe it was my way of thanking her for her sacrifice. My way of showing her she was more than a courier, more than cannon fodder or a tool of political power. For whatever reason, we kissed a slow cautious kiss. I kissed her, and she kissed me back.

And I felt the radiant sun of Caprica on her skin, smelled the sunlight there when I buried my face in her shoulders, relief and gratitude and awe for her power choking me slightly, forcing me to catch my breath.

She's lying beside me. She is beauty and strength and courage. My body aches for her, so much more so now than ever before. She is hope, and I crave her like oxygen. Like water and food and the touch of sunlight on my skin.

It will be time soon, time to wake up and face the next catastrophe the universe sees fit to throw my way. I will face the dawning of day—or what should be the dawning of day—knowing this could be a one-time thing. Knowing I could be another notch on her belt. Knowing she could have gotten her payment, and wants nothing more from me.

But I don't think of these things right now. Right now, Kara Thrace is asleep in my bed, in my arms, and the beautiful golden light of hope…or at least, a small glimmer of it…lies warm in my embrace.

End