Author's note: the second section is rated M due to torture.
...
Liam grinned like a cat who'd just gotten the cream. Even though he remained confined to an uncomfortable bed in Sickbay, he looked at a very nice image. Very nice. She was the latest in a series of glossy magazine pages he'd been leafing through, courtesy of the "Sickbay Survival Kit" Kara had gifted him when she'd arrived earlier that morning. His eyes had gone wide when he'd opened the box. Before leaving for an appointment with an unamused Cottle, Kara ruffled his hair as if he were a boy again despite being old enough for Vixens from Venus.
Kara was the best sister-in-law a poor injured Viper jock could have. After rooting around in the box, Liam popped a piece of candy in his mouth and enjoyed the cloying sweetness of the rare treat. An old grandma on the Gideon made hard candies, and she'd become a living legend of the Fleet.
Liam snorted-laughed—the woman's name on the page was Candy.
Sweet, he thought, but his grin vanished like mist in the sun when he heard a voice from beyond the privacy curtain. His ears pricked, waiting. Then he picked out that rough voice speaking again. Everyone knew that voice.
"Oh frak!" he muttered, slamming the magazine closed. In a flurry of motion, he dumped his treasures back into their box and shut the lid. Then he heard another voice, warm and smooth. So he shoved the box under his pillow for good measure. A moment later, his father, mother, Lee, and Evie were shown into his little corner of Sickbay by Zak. He shifted the pillow a bit to hide the awkward lump behind it; there was absolutely no way he'd survive his mother catching him with Candy.
"Visiting hours at the zoo again?" Liam asked with a grin, hoping his face wasn't blushing like he'd been caught with his hand in the candy jar. At that thought, he gulped and felt the burning red flush his face.
"Hi sweetheart," his mother said, leaning over and kissing him on the forehead.
"Mom," he tried to complain, but he did a poor job acting too grown-up for such affection. His mother just chuckled at her son as she straightened, keeping Evie perfectly balanced on her hip, even when she tried to reach for him.
"How are you today, son?" his father asked with that deep voice.
"Seconds away from death's door."
"Liam!" Lee did not sound amused whatsoever.
"I'm just bored to death." His father shot him a very disapproving look at the joke, even if the corner of his lips twitched. Then he saw his mother looking not amused whatsoever. Liam gave his family a sheepish grin and looked at his oldest brother. "Don't worry, Lee. Your oh-so-heroic rescue won't have been in vain."
"Are you sure you're okay, Liam?" his mother asked in a gentle voice while Zak looked at his charts. Dad always said there was practically no privacy aboard a Battlestar. Even if he felt stir-crazy, he put on a good face for his concerned mother.
"I'm okay, mom. Promise." For good measure, he leaned over and plucked Evie from her and set her down on the bed beside him; she'd been trying to squirm out of their mother's grasp to sit by him anyway. Meanwhile, his father took the chance to slip an arm around her, which put a smile on her face.
Liam looked down at his sister. "So you here to spring me from Sickbay?"
Evie looked up at him with wide blue eyes and said something unintelligible. At least Liam assumed it was indecipherable and not just him. The combat landing and oxygen deprivation put him out of commission longer than first realized; Liam had been stuck in the stinky disinfectant-and-smoke smelling Sickbay for too long. At least the pallor from his injuries had faded, leaving him once again the tanned, dark-haired, and obvious offspring of the Admiral standing by him.
"Gotta make sure you didn't kill too many of your brain cells," Zak began. "Even you Viper jocks need a few." Lee elbowed his brother in the side. In the background, the two squabbled over the intelligence of viper pilots.
Liam gave his father a pleading look. "Can't you order the doc to release me, dad? I'm fine."
"Admirals don't release inmates. I do," Cottle said, stepping past the privacy screen and joining the family sequestered behind it. Kara trailed in behind him, looking preoccupied. Cottle continued yammering away as he took the test results from Zak. "Admirals might as well be ensigns in Sickbay because here my word is law. You'd do better asking your mom for help."
"What!" Bill said irritably. "Why?"
Cottle gave his CO a sardonic grin over Liam's bedside. "I like her better." He turned to Liam. "Either way, your rear end will still likely be sitting there until I'm satisfied."
And with that, Doc Cottle and Doc Zak proceed to ignore them while quickly going over the results. Bill gave a grunt of displeasure and hurled an infamous Adama glare at Cottle. It did nothing. Laura giggled at the display, leaning back against Bill and pecking him on the cheek. It melted the Admiral instantly. Liam watched his mom tease his father and remembered how they had laughed together so much back on the Colonies. It was nice to see his parents and not the Admiral and President. Meanwhile, Lee and Zak, done teasing each other, ribbed him about how he was supposed to return with his viper and not play galactic hitchhiker during battle. He gave as good as he got while grinning at them all. Despite being ready to go out of his mind, it was nice to have a family moment.
"Well," Cottle pronounced, "it looks like enough of your brain cells are intact that you can go home today. Light duty until the bruised ribs have more time to heal."
Liam groaned; light-duty meant no flying. A nurse came in and handed Doc Cottle a few bottles. The doc passed him some mild pain pills and his father before giving his mom her prescribed antidepressants and anxiety medication. Liam thought her PTSD was doing better but imagined Cavil's reappearance rattled her. It shook him as he remembered how she hid him when the Cylons came.
There was one last bottle. Cottle handed it to Kara who quickly slipped it into her pocket.
"Just some vitamins," she said to Lee who looked concerned. "Maybe I'll be less cranky with more good ol' vitamin D."
"Not likely," Zak muttered.
If anyone thought to press Kara on her deflection, Evelyn distracted them.
"Candy!" she screamed, and suddenly all pairs of eyes swiveled to the young girl who'd fished out the box Liam had hidden under his pillow. She'd removed the cover and had a piece of candy in her hand and looked at Liam with huge, hopeful eyes. Everyone else was looking at the rest of the contents of the box.
"Oh my gods," Laura said, blushing as she realized at what she was looking. At what her son had been looking.
"Liam!" his dad said in that voice.
"Why didn't I die?" Liam muttered, trying to take the box away from Evelyn while also giving her some candy. In his haste and clumsiness, the contents ended up being spilled across the bed. Lee covered his sister's eyes while the magazine had opened to an eye-catching, mouth-watering centerfold.
"Sweet," Zak said.
"You have those magazines?" His mother sounded so shocked.
"Kara gave them to me!"
"Liam!" Kara yelled.
"Can you get that heart rate monitor off him before it thinks he's having a heart attack," Cottle said while laughing, although it sounded more like wheezing. Zak plucked the monitor off his finger, clearly amused at his brother's misfortune.
"I got them from Lee," Kara said, pointing at her husband. "Confiscated them from Lee."
"You told me to get them for us to share!"
"I mostly wanted you to read the advice articles."
"This isn't happening," Laura moaned.
"Kids grow up," Bill said, covering his mouth to keep from laughing.
"Besides, this isn't worse than the time Liam came downstairs wondering if mom was in trouble because she had handcuffs in her bedside table," Zak said, professionally turning off the equipment and putting it away.
"I'm leaving now," Cottle said, walking away while tossing orders over his shoulder. "Make sure you all take your pills. And no lifting things over ten pounds, Admiral, or you'll have permanent damage. Damn Adamas."
Laura's face had flushed so red that it matched her hair. "You know what, I'm not going why you were in my bedside table—"
"—I wanted my game you grounded me from," Liam grumbled as he finished stuffing everything back in his box and pushing it back under the pillow. It was not a case of out of sight out of mind. His brothers were already trying to pull it back out.
"—I'm going to work now." Laura picked her daughter up from the bed, pulling herself up to her full height and not looking her boys in the eye. "I'm glad you're feeling better, sweetheart."
"I need to go, too," Bill said, all humor draining from his face.
Liam stopped shooing away anyone trying to take his box and looked up at his dad. Finally, he asked, "Are you going to interrogate the Cavil today?"
They all saw their father hardening back into the Admiral as he nodded. "Yes."
"Is he the same one who attacked mom and me?"
"Yes. And I'm going to figure out what he wants and how to stop him."
It was like a gust of icy wind and blown through Sickbay, taking all their previous joy away. Liam gave his father a nod, anger welling in him at the memories he'd never forgotten. "Good."
…
Bill Adama walked toward the brig, his stride deliberate and rhythmic while his mind zeroed in on the task ahead. He didn't consider himself to be a cruel man. He could be hard and severe, and he faced most tasks, including conducting military "enhanced interrogations," with a steely resolve.
All those years ago, he'd remained unflinching before and after using enhanced interrogation techniques on Baltar. Some people would call what he did torture. Maybe it was, but he did his job without taking joy in it. After interrogating Baltar, a shaken Laura had asked if he'd done that to other humans. He had. He'd told her so. It was just compartmentalized and kept away from Bill the father, friend, and partner. It helped that he didn't care much for Baltar; self-preservation and selfishness motivated that man rather than anything genuinely nefarious.
Stopping outside the brig, Bill flexed the muscles he would be using while he sank into a dark place in his mind. Grief, guilt, and anger collided and vied for supremacy. For a brief moment, he wondered how he'd have felt interrogating Zarek—the only person he hated more than Cavil. Zarek was human and understood what nightmares he'd put them through. Zarek's machinations separated him from Laura more than once, and that wasn't something Bill handled well. Neither did Laura, whose tears of relief when reunited with him remained burned in his memory. So, if he'd had the chance, Bill would have created a living hell for the terrorist, something he now knew he was capable of. After all, he willingly toed the line when beating Dagon in the brig.
Bill entered the brig, staring coldly at the Cavil behind bars. If he tried, he could feel the phantom sensation of his own tears of relief slipping down his face so unashamedly shed in sickbay after he'd rescued his tortured wife from the very Cylon in front of him. It disgusted him to stand in the same space as the thing that marred Laura's pale skin with bruises and caused her to scream while the military-grade interrogation drugs too slowly made their way out of her system. His mind became a wildfire of bitter memories and feelings, each coming back with terrible clarity. His hands balled into fists as he allowed his mind to use those memories to whip him into a vengeance-fueled frenzy.
This interrogation would have no professional detachment. Bill Adama wasn't a cruel, vindictive man in the same way that he was also an objective, rational leader—until something threatened his family. What threatened his family deserved no mercy.
"Report," Bill ordered Boomer, the only guard on duty.
She stood at attention. "No change, sir."
Bill nodded his understanding while keeping his eyes on the Cavil huddled in a corner.
As ordered, guards had stripped the cell and left it bare, not allowing the Cylon the comfort of a chair or bed. If Adama could have made the floor harder, he would have. The hardness of unforgiving metal would have to suffice. He'd ordered the temperature lowered, and within the minute he'd been in the brig, the biting cold had seeped into his uniform and caused him to shiver. Good. Overhead, the lights blazed at full power, unyielding in their brightness; the harshness of her cell's lights on New Caprica was one of the few memories Laura shared of her experience in Cylon detention. Behind bars, Cavil glared at him from the corner, loathing the effect such hostile conditions provoked from his body. The machine hated anything that reminded him of how his body was based on the oh-so-weak human form.
They'd decided to limit Cavil's guards to those who'd experienced the other timeline because gods only know what tales from Cavil could have Corporal Venner's head spinning. The first to volunteer for guard duty had been Boomer. Adama thought it strange until she'd approached him after completing her first guard shift.
"I had to know, sir, now I do. He has no power over me," Boomer had said. "Not anymore."
He nodded. "You grew into your own self."
Trust Boomer though he did, Adama still reviewed the security footage of her shifts since Cavil's incarceration. He couldn't risk giving anyone his complete trust, save his wife. In the end, he'd found no proof of any collaboration on Boomer's part and saw Cavil grow frustrated with her enduring silence. She didn't even speak when depriving him of sleep, just clanked a baton against the bars until the sound reverberated off the walls. As a result, Cavil looked exhausted and weakened.
Bill thought of Laura's parting words before he'd left for the brig: "Do what you need to do. And if it seems cruel, if you doubt your humanity at all when dealing with him, remember everything he's done: the genocide, New Caprica, Saul and Ellen, our family, and if that's not enough, remember what he's done to me. Then do whatever you need to do to get whatever you need. Just remember that no matter what, you'll be coming home to a wife who will always love you." Laura might not have the stomach for torture, but it made her no less fierce.
Armed with her words and reminded of his beloved's pain, Bill doubted that his conscience would protest anything that happened in the brig.
"Get him ready," Adama ordered, handing Boomer the key to the cell, which he kept on his person. Cavil openly laughed, a derisive, dry sound as Boomer unlocked the cell.
"Eights do make good pets, don't they, Admiral? After they're housebroken," Cavil said in the mocking tone he favored. The chattering in his teeth from the cold lessened the effect. He still looked at the Admiral with defiance and superiority.
The bars creaked open, and Boomer entered, dragging a chair into place at the center of the cell. Stronger than a human, Boomer easily hauled Cavil into it and bound him in place. Neither she nor Adama deigned to reply to his goading, but that didn't dissuade him.
"Little rougher than you used to be, my pet," Cavil taunted, but Boomer still gave no answer because she'd been ordered to stay silent. Cavil took it as a challenge. "Is that what Galen likes? You're still together, right? Ha! And I thought I had parental issues."
Adama stepped closer, slowly circling the Cylon now bound so tightly that it couldn't turn to watch him.
"There's no need for theatrics, Admiral. I'll tell you anything you want to know. Certainly no need for violence."
"No need for violence?" Bill asked, his expression unchanging as he moved to stand in front of Cavil. Blood on the carpet, little Liam crying for his mother, his wife held prisoner. In the haze of memories, rage burned in him like a sun going nova. His fist slammed into Cavil with such force that the chair teetered backward.
As tempting as it was to kill Cavil right there, Adama banked the flames of his anger. It was difficult, but he forced himself to consider his unasked questions. So he wiped off the Cylon blood on his knuckles on Cavil's shirt, hearing it moan at the contact. Standing back, he allowed the dazed Cylon to gain its bearings.
It scowled when it tasted the blood dripping into its mouth and felt the blackening of one of its eyes.
When Adama spoke, his voice sounded colder than winter. "The violence started when you kidnapped my wife from our home and tortured her."
"You recall," Cavil said as he breathed through the pain. "I did give you the chance to avoid that unpleasantness." It wheezed a bit as it spoke but still sounded defiant. "But, you refused to cooperate, and I became… more optimistic about getting what I needed from Madame President."
Adama seethed in outrage at the machine's cold logic of going after what it considered the weaker target. The results of such cold logic left his wife's psyche deeply scarred, something he'd witnessed when he soothed her nightmares to the best of his ability. After all that pain, he could barely stand looking at it and breathing the same air as the machine that caused it.
His feelings must have shown because Cavil continued to provoke the Admiral. "And to think we Cylons once dismissed her as a low-priority target because she was just the Secretary of Education. I was impressed at how your little schoolteacher resisted everything I did to her. Stubborn—"
Adama didn't remember putting his hand around Cavil's throat, but he became aware of how Cylon gasped for air: his eyes were bulging, and his face was turning an ugly purple color. For a second, he squeezed harder. With a grunt, Bill ripped his hands away from the Cylon's throat and turned away. You need answers, he reminded himself. Focus. Answers could help the Fleet. They could protect your children and Laura. You'll kill it one day.
Cavil seemed to be laughing as he gasped for breath. "Humans are so predictable. I bet I could sit here and insult your manhood from here to kingdom come, but mention that pretty redhead of yours and your impressive control snaps. Now, didn't you have some questions for me? I did say there was no need for violence. I'll answer. But I first need a question, Admiral."
"You wanted to force the President to serve as an independent witness for you and tell Cylons about her memories of the other timeline. That way they'd believe you."
"Why, yes. Machines need proper data input, so I was gathering it. Her testimony would have proven what I told my compatriots about the other timeline. I'm sure your pet over there has told you this though, she was there."
"But proving the other timeline existed is a moot point now," Adama said. Because you never broke her. Yes, you hurt her, but you can't break her. That familiar, fierce protectiveness of his wife rose in him, and he pulled himself to his full height to look down at the Cylon and asked, "So why do you keep trying to take her?"
Cavil eyed Boomer off to the side, probably wondering how much information she'd divulged to the Adamas. She'd been there, after all. The Orb presented significant tactical advantages and was not something about which one just shared details without a second thought.
"She still has information I want," Cavil said vaguely.
Bill was in no mood to deal with useless answers from a Cylon that deserved death. His expression didn't change as he reached for the pressure points at the juncture between neck and jaw. He dug his fingers into the Cylon with a vice-like grip and listened to the shocked yelp. Pain radiated up Cavil's neck, and he tried to twist away. It only hurt him worse.
"She knew about the Orb even though she can't have ever seen it. And she can find it," Cavil growled, forcing himself to be still. His shoulders knotted from the pain, and his muscles spasmed at the point of contact.
Adama didn't let him go but loosened his hold so that the pain could dull. He forced Cavil to tilt his head back and look up at him. He watched the Cylon shiver from the cold and squinted against the harsh glare of the overhead lights. The beaten face sent a grim satisfaction through him.
"I know about the Orb, Cylon. Now tell me why you think the President can find it. As you say, she's never seen it."
Cavil glared at Adama, furious at how his frail human body had betrayed him so easily. So he lashed out through gritted teeth. "You really wanna know? I jammed a needle filled with Chamalla into your wife to help loosen her stubborn tongue. Ever combine interrogation drugs and Chamalla? Oh, she started talking." Cavil said darkly. He laughed, seeing the horrified look on Adama's face. The cackling continued with his words sputtered out amid the manic sound. "First, she called out for you. How sweet. Then she talks about the number twelve. Whatever. I tried to get her to talk about the other timeline. Instead, she starts talking about the Orb! Surprise! She described seeing it, and it sounded like she could reach out and touch it. I sent a ship to where she described and found traces of the energy it puts out, but the damn Orb is never in the same place twice," Cavil finished his tale looking Adama in the eye and letting his laughter fade. His tone became serious. "Now you know. Chamalla, plus your airlock-loving wife, can find the Orb. Now, I doubt you'll have the guts to do it, but when I get ahold of Madame President, I'll strap her back down to a table and pump so much Chamalla in her veins that—"
Adama's fist connected with the side of Cavil's head again, silencing the Cylon. There was no boxing the rage he felt at Cavil, the most intense he'd ever felt. He thought he might explode.
He turned to Boomer.
"Get me a bucket of water."
"Yes, sir."
Boomer quickly returned with the water. Cavil remained unfocused and dazed until the cold water was poured over his body. He coughed and sputtered, shivering violently from the cold. The pins and needles of the freezing water forced him to focus.
The Cylon had a look of irritation as he said, "I'm answering your questions. I'd like to point out that I resisted using coercion until she refused to answer—"
"You're going to tell me about— "
"This need for blood only proves you to be the base animal you are!" Cavil yelled over his captor and continued rambling about the animalistic tendencies of humans.
Not in the mood to get into a screaming match with Cavil, and taking great offense at him being called the animal, Adama took one of Cavil's fingers and bent it backward. Wrist bound to the table as it was, it didn't take long for Cavil to feel the strain. The machine's monologuing stopped.
"Animal," Cavil snarled before his moaning began when the first joint snapped. Adama barely heard the crack, Cavil's description of what he'd done to Laura still ringing in his ears.
"Any man would want your head for the suffering you brought my wife and sons, let alone your other crimes," Adama said. He breathed in and out several times, reining in his anger once more after repeating the process with a finger on the other hand. He warned Cavil not to mention his wife again; Adama wouldn't be able to leave the Cylon alive.
"Now answer my question: How many times have you used the Orb?"
"Don't remember. But I've gotten so close to wiping out the human pestilence. This just might be my lucky round. If not, I'll just go back and wipe everything out! Back to the cosmic beginning! I'll feel good doing it. And I'll make Laura help me—"
At the mention of Laura, Bill reached for the stun baton on the guard's desk and drove it into Cavil's side. The baton's humming filled the air as the Cylon spasmed uncontrollably. The smell of singed cloth and flesh assaulted his nose.
"I told you not to mention her." He upped the intensity of the baton before jamming it into Cavil's leg, just like he had threatened to do to Laura with Chamalla. Cavil couldn't contain his cry. He tried to pull away, but it was impossible to escape. Writhing and twisting against the bonds, Cavil screamed. Over and over again, electricity surged through him until he begged for it to stop.
Having delivered the painful lesson to the Cylon, Adama stopped. Although not satisfied in the least with the amount of pain delivered, in the end, this would do nothing to heal Laura. She would still suffer from nightmares and PTSD. If only he could have protected her, but that line of thinking was his own self-torture that he couldn't take part in right now.
Adama switched focus. He produced photos taken from gun cameras during the recent battle and tossed them on the ground in front of Cavil. Some of the pictures landed in the puddle of water left after Adama had poured it over his prisoner, but the Behemoth Basestars were recognizable, larger and more menacing than any Cylon ship that had come before.
"Tell me about these."
"Or you'll electrocute me again?"
Adama turned the baton on, and Cavil quickly started talking.
"They're my creation. Superior Basestars. Designed for war. After I remembered the other timeline, I initiated some discrete building projects."
"Specs?"
Cavil didn't hesitate to lay out the details of the technologically advanced warship. Designed to be double the size, with more nuclear power and missile power than a Basestar, the Behemoths were his pride and joy.
"Weakness?"
Cavil hesitated. Electricity coursed through his body from the baton. He let out a strangled scream, digging further into the cuffs. It burned his freezing flesh. The electricity stopped, and his body fell limp, letting out shuddering gasps of air.
"Calm down! I'm thinking. I designed the damn thing pretty damn well if I do say so myself."
"Hurry up. I don't want to be in here longer than necessary."
"Ball and chain want you home by dinner time?" Cavil mocked. "You gonna tell her all about how her big bad ape took his pound of flesh for her? Or are you doing this for your own satisfaction?"
"Answer my question."
"They have almost no maneuverability. And they're slow. FTL drives aren't well-protected either. And no, I'm not worried about you exploiting these weaknesses. My Cylon faction is still stronger than your pitiful Fleet."
A significant amount of time later, and after asking more questions about the Behemoths, Cylon movements, and the Orb, Adama was temporarily satisfied with the information he'd gotten. It did require breaking two more bones, and he still wasn't remotely appeased with what he'd done to Cavil. His full fury had barely begun.
Cavil grinned as Bill made to leave, seeing a final chance to get under the man's skin. "Give Laura my regards before you fra—"
Bill's fist slammed into Cavil's face before he could finish, and this time, both the Cylon and its chair fell backward onto the floor.
Still bound to the chair, Cavil turned his head to the side and spit blood and part of a tooth from between his split lips. Bill didn't trust himself to touch the machine without throttling it, so he stood and walked away, leaving the Cylon on the floor.
...
Everyone needed to relax and enjoy something, anything for a morale boost. The ability to order a good drink provided just the excuse the crew of Galactica needed to throw a party. It turned out that Joe's Bar only provided mediocre swill or bad booze, but the atmosphere was good, so the crew put together a shindig to celebrate the bar's official grand opening.
Despite all the difficulties they had to face, the crew wanted to have fun. Maybe it was a way of feeling alive, to take control of tragedy and not let it strike them down.
Music played from old speakers, most of them static-filled as they'd been faulty discards from Galactica's intercom system, repurposed for Joe's when replaced. Somehow, every table and chair was already sticky and old paint peeled from the abandoned hangar bay Joe's called home. Crew clustered around tables laden with mismatched glasses and bottles of iffy moonshine—Joe kept the better, but still mediocre, bottles behind his bar. Together they laughed and commiserated, and through this reveling, half-drunk crowd, Kara dragged Sam.
"Kara, I'm not in the mood."
Kara glanced behind, giving Sam an I-don't-care-what-your-mood-is-I'm-the-boss look. "You need to stop moping around like someone kicked your dog."
"I brought a bunch of Cylons to the Fleet, and the next thing we know, the military gets their ass handed to them in battle. Kinda feels like I'm the one who kicked my own dog."
"One more self-indulgent pity party and I slap you upside the head," Kara threatened. "There are no pity parties in Joe's," she said before returning to yanking him along by the hand. He had little option but to stumble along after her as she muttered, "Damn, you're depressing right now."
"Where are you taking me?" Sam asked.
"To someone who's gonna prove just how freakin' happy we are that you and your rebel buddies managed to get away from the Colonies and find the Fleet."
"Won't change the fact that I'm the guy who brought Cylons—" Before he could finish his sentence, Kara turned and gave him a solid thwacking over his head. The cracking sound of skin slapping skin caught the attention of nearby crewmembers, whose wide eyed stares eagerly anticipated some free entertainment.
Kara was decidedly not entertained as she gave Sam a piece of her mind; "Rebel Cylons who helped get you, Barolay, Amanda, and all the others off Caprica. But even with good intel, which they gave us, victory isn't ever guaranteed. It's hard to accept, but there it is. Now get over it and move on." Her words resonated with the truth that even Galactica's seasoned soldiers sometimes forgot; even if they made no mistakes, they could still lose.* As they thought about it, many of the surrounding crewmembers felt lighter, like they could take a break from finding someone to blame for losing the Battle for the Hub.
Sam felt better, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Are you always this demanding?"
"Yep." With no small amount of attitude, Kara turned around and continued onward with Sam following.
"My kinda woman," Sam flirted and steadied Kara when she tripped over herself. He didn't see the shadow that passed over her face at the familiar words or know how the teasing tone reverberated in her mind like a haunting half-forgotten melody. An echo of the love she'd once had for Sam, the man she'd once married, flowed through her.
"In your dreams," Kara said in what she hoped sounded like light-hearted banter.
They passed the Admiral and President enjoying their own drinks together while crewmembers struck up conversations with them. The leaders mingled with their people, staying connected rather than remaining aloof on Olympus. It was important for people to see their leaders and know that they were humans who cared. Genuinely care, they did; it was one of many reasons that the crew remained loyal to them. The crew was like a family, with Adama and Roslin as the space parents who guided, mentored, disciplined, and stressed over the crazy kids in their care.
At some prompting from his wife Cally Costanza and a few others, Brendan "Hot Dog" Costanza approached Bill and challenged the older man to a round of Pyramid. Joe's didn't have a full court, but some deckhands had welded bits and pieces of scrap together until they achieved a barely-regulation Pyramid hoop shape.
Hot Dog held out the Pyramid ball to his commanding officer with a too-cocky grin and asked, "Think you can do any better than us, sir?"
Bill raised an eyebrow. Socializing for Laura and him meant navigating the delicate balance of maintaining respect and letting down their hair. In this instance, he decided to indulge his almost-children, who looked at him excitedly.
"Well, I used to be pretty good at this," Bill said, handing Laura his drink and taking the ball.
"Yeah, but how many years ago?" a pilot in the crowd asked.
Bill turned to glare at the pilot who dared ask such a question but couldn't determine who in the mass of goofy grinning pilots had asked. Wise-crackers, the whole lot of them, he huffed.
"How many years ago, sir?" Bill said to the roaring approval of his crew. They called out "Sir" and "Old Man" before taking a long drink as a sort of toast. Behind them, Laura watched him over the rim of her glass, clearly trying not to have a fit of giggles.
"Show us what you got, Admiral," Kat yelled as he stood in front of the hoops.
Ready to show his pilots that their Old Man still had some moves, the Admiral reared up for a throw. He launched the ball with considerable force at the Pyramid hoop, and it soared through the air. It sailed right past its target and hit the wall behind it.
"You're not supposed to aim for the wall, sir," Hot Dog said, prompting a round of good-natured teasing from the pilots toward their CO.
"I could still fly circles around you, rooks," Bill grumbled good-naturedly.
"Join us anytime, sir," Kat said. Bill could hear the smile in her voice without even needing to see her.
"Yeah, come show us how it's done one day," Racetrack said. "Sir," she added before gulping her drink.
"Try throwing again, sir," Skulls said, slurring most of his words. The others quickly agreed, thoroughly amused with this distraction. Cylons were now the last thing on their mind. At their teasing and urging, Bill took the ball to try again. More than one pilot put down a bet as he adjusted his stance, and Bill grinned when he heard the odds. He threw.
A loud "Ohhhh!" echoed in the room around him when the ball swooshed through the hoop and slammed into the metal backing. Perfect hit.
More than one pilot doubled over in laughter as pilots were forced to pay up, more than a few being visiting pilots from other ships. The room rumbled the energy of the crowd while drinks sloshed around the cups in their hands. Bill looked around and saw his people huddling together, talking, and enjoying life; even Laura was giggling now while she gazed at him, looking flushed and happy. This event had been just what they both needed to get their minds off both the Cylon in the brig and Bill's guilt at not sharing much of what he'd gotten out of Cavil with Laura.
He enjoyed a few more rounds with his pilots. Over the roar of his increasingly inebriated crew, Bill heard Liam shriek with excitement. The boy had been pratictically bursting with energy when released from sickbay yesterday, and Bill turned to see what caused it to erupt. At a table, he spotted Kara introducing him to Sam Anders, and it appeared his youngest son was jumping with joy to meet a pro Pyramid player. Sitting next to Liam, Bill spotted Lee, but the look on his oldest son's face gave him pause. Lee looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.
"Maybe we can get Kara's pro Pyramid player over here," Hot Dog said. "Give us Galacticans a challenge since our Old Man can throw."
"Might be doing Lee a favor. I don't think he wants to share. Look at that face!" Kat said.
Something twisted inside Bill, an early warning from his gut instinct. He understood why Lee might not enjoy Sam's presence; after all, Kara cheated on Sam with Lee, so what might this timeframe have in store for them? He found himself studying the trio. Lee never handled people falling from pedestals well; what would happen when he thought that he himself was the one falling from the precarious perch? A ridiculous notion because Liam would never stop looking up to his big brother, but humans were known to have all sorts of irrational fears. He still had his, he thought, looking over at Laura. Tossing the Pyramid ball to Hot Dog, he rejoined his wife at their table, linking their fingers together.
"I see you still got your moves, Husker," Laura teased, her face flushed from the shot of moonshine she'd downed without even a grimace when the pilots offered her one. With them thoroughly impressed, she now sipped at water.
"In this timeline, I have a wife who keeps me in shape and on my toes," Bill said with a grin. Laura smirked at him, her eyes dancing with mischief. Running a thumb over her knuckles, Bill could help but glance back over to Lee, Sam, Liam, and Kara; the grin faded from his face.
"All good?" she asked, so attuned with him that she could detect the subtle change in his mood.
"Yeah," he assured. He nodded over at the group on his mind. "Hoping that doesn't develop into a situation."
"Isn't it bound to happen? Kara, Lee, and Sam are quite the mix," Laura said with a sigh. "Lee needs to trust Kara. He has nothing to worry about."
"No?"
"No," Laura said, her eyes still sparking with mischief.
"Do you know something?"
"It's top secret. President's eyes only."
At their table, Lee couldn't say he was thrilled to see Sam Anders; he was practically pouting with resentment as Sam joined them at their table. He also felt about two inches tall for having such a stupid reaction to the return of Pyramid-Boy, but that only soured his mood more. Seeing Liam's excited response to the pro player only grew his strange jealousy.
While Liam fired a barrage of questions at Sam, Lee kept his mouth shut by keeping a drink constantly at his lips. The moonshine smelled like someone had set fire to swamp water, and it burned going down, but it didn't end up having much of a taste overall. It lulled him into a pleasant, inebriated cloud that made Sam's intrusion bearable.
You're being ridiculously medieval. Sam doesn't even remember Kara.
Kara remembers Sam.
Take another drink, stop dredging up bad memories, and shut up, Lee.
Lee tuned back into the conversation and heard Sam saying, "—thing is, being a pro Pyramid player doesn't mean much anymore. I want to help, to do something useful."
"Being the Pyramid-Boy who brought the Cylons into our Fleet isn't cutting it?"
"Lee!" two irritated voices exclaimed. Kara looked ready to give him a piece of her mind. "Rebel Cylons who helped get the human resistance off the Colonies. A resistance that Sam led."
"Look, you're right. I know the Fleet's in a state after losing the battle for the Hub. I want to help fight," Sam said. Lee decided it was probably a good thing the fire-swamp hooch dulled his ability to deliver a biting comeback before Sam started speaking.
"I know you can be a soldier," Kara said to Sam while ignoring Lee. "But not everyone should be. Whatever my idiot husband says, being a Pyramid Boy isn't a bad thing. Start a Pyramid league here in the Fleet. Give us a piece of home—a game to watch and a moment to forget all the shit happening. Gods, I miss a good Pyramid game."
"That's a really good idea!" Liam said, perking up. "There's space for a field on Cloud Nine. The press corps could film it and stream it to the whole fleet."
Their conversation earned them the notice of a few nearby crewmembers. Barolay, who'd been standing nearby, stepped over to their table. A light was shining in her eyes as she spoke, "The ships can compete against each other. Imagine it, the Cloud Nine Buccaneers versus the Astral Queen Bandits. "
"I'd watch that!" Redwing said, raising a glass. A cloud of excitement was brewing at their table, attracting more listeners.
"And if you really want to fight, we can bring back the reserves. Trained to be soldiers, but they stay in civilian life most of the time. They'd be activated as needed," Kara said, looking at Lee, who just nodded. She'd expected him to have at least some input with his reserve experience. Kara sighed. "Lee, why don't you be useful and get me another water."
"I'd join the reserves," Barolay said. "I was a decent soldier on Caprica."
"You should suggest it to mom and dad," Liam said to Kara, nodding over to where his parents sat at their table nearby.
"Tomorrow, Falcon," Kara said, looking over to see the Admiral and President finishing their drinks and sharing a look. "I think mommy and daddy want alone time." More than one person snickered.
From their table, Bill and Laura surveyed their people as they got up to leave. It was time to let the younger crowd enjoy their fun without parental supervision.
"The party was a good idea. It reminded them that they still have each other; we lost a battle but we aren't defeated," Bill said. He gave Laura a smile. "Someone taught me that when she insisted we take the survivors from the colony and run."
"They never cease to amaze me," Laura said as they walked out of Joe's. "You never cease to amaze me."
…
Author's note: I thought we needed a fun chapter. Thank you to all those who read and review. Much love to all you readers.
*Is paraphrased from a Captain Jean-Luc Picard quote in Star Trek The Next Generation.