Chapter 87 Color Scheme
Sitting in the mess that evening with Athena and Helo, Starbuck considered the pros and cons of licking her bowl, deciding with a sniff to instead run a slender finger along the inside to get what little her spoon had missed. Not that the thinnish soup had been especially good, but apparently it was all she was going to get until a breakfast the next day that promised to be as meager.
As Helo leaned back from murmuring something in Athena's ear that had a blush darkening the already shaded skin, Starbuck saw his expression turn serious as he noticed her still holding the empty bowl. After a slightly furtive glance at those seated at the nearby dining tables, he pitched his voice so only the pair of women at his table could hear, "The President has issued a fleet-wide rationing program. But Racetrack came back today with a promising planet just four jumps out. The Admiral's sending a surveying and support team tomorrow to check it out. So…if we're lucky, we might have something fresh to eat soon."
"Well, don't look at me, Karl. I've got luck to spare, just never know if it's swinging good or bad," Kara said with a mild grimace.
"Hey, I hear that some Tauron sect have these fat statues that they rub the belly on for good fortune. Maybe we should have the survey team rub your belly, Starbuck, before setting off tomorrow. Whatdaya say." Helo's smirk, turned to a satisfied grimace as Kara's fist smacked his arm.
"Idiot," her scowl ruined by twitching lips, "I swear, Athena, if so much as one person even looks like they're thinking of trying it, I'm gonna castrate your man then and there," Starbuck said, waving the spoon towards his groin to emphasize her threat. As the grin dropped from Karl's face, Kara looked over at Sharon in surprise and saw the matching pain reflected in her eyes. "Ah, frak, guys. I'm sorry," immediately knowing that they were thinking about their dead child.
"No. It's Ok," Sharon calmly said, but her words were belied when she stood. "I'm just going to go back to sickbay, now. It's been a long day, and I think I can weasel a pain pill out of Cottle. My shoulder's kinda hurting after the PT he put me through earlier. See you later."
Watching Karl watch his wife hurry from the mess with head down, Kara kicked herself for the thoughtless remark. They'd both helped her so much and she repaid them by joking about something so personally painful.
"Karl, maybe you should go after her. Be with her or…or whatever."
"No…When she gets like this, she needs some time alone. I can always tell when she wants some distance and when she needs me near." He met Kara's gaze and undoubtedly saw the guilt written on her face. "It wasn't your fault. Sometimes the loss just catches us by surprise. It's always there, just some random word or picture jumps out and its like it just happened," he explained.
"Yeah… I know," she said, thinking about Kacey. "I'm still sorry. If I'd just learn to keep my mouth shut I wouldn't screw-up so often," she muttered, dropping the spoon with a clatter into the bowl and shoving it aside.
"Making it all about you again, Starbuck?" Karl said, bending towards her as he tried to catch her eyes. As the green ones met his, he gave her the gift of a slow grin and said, "Besides, everyone knows the day you can keep your smart remarks to yourself is the day the universe implodes. Not a good thing to happen, so don't worry if a few doozies slip out. Gotta keep the stars and suns aligned." He grabbed her bowl, stacking it atop his own and rose. "Come with me. The Admiral and I have a surprise for you."
She waited a beat, then pushed back from the table to follow him, wondering if just maybe the gods had gifted her with a friend like Karl to make up for the frakked-up parents she'd been saddled with. Letting a smile shake the pain and guilt from her heart, she decided that it was almost a fair trade.
[ I I I I I ]
Kara looked around the room, taking in the scattered toys, drawings hung on walls and the three children clustered around a table putting puzzles together. Why the frak did Helo bring me here, she wondered as she watched the two girls interchanging pieces while the third child, a tow-headed boy, was bent intently working on his own. All three heads looked up when the young woman that had been sitting with them rose to meet Helo with an enthusiastic hug and teasing greeting, "Karl, you been staying out of trouble lately?"
"Now, Nancy. I always try. Not my fault my magnetic personality just seems to draw it to me," he replied, returning the hug before releasing the slim figure to turn to Kara. He gave a jerk of his head for her to step forward as he said, "This is Kara."
Nancy stuck her hand out with a welcoming smile that reached all the way to her eyes. "Glad you came, Kara," she said, giving a warm handshake before adding, "Karl says you're something of an artist?"
Kara felt her cheeks heat as she flicked a glare the direction of the mischievously grinning man. "More a dabbler really," she said, deciding that she was later going to see if it was possible to beat a person senseless with his own lollipop.
"The Admiral rounded up some painting supplies and Nancy has an easel and has agreed to let you come in whenever you want to use it," Karl explained.
Kara looked from his eager face to the woman's equally pleased one, unsure how to respond. One of the few things she'd really missed from her old life was being able to put color to canvas. Now her friend was offering her a gift that made her fingers twitch with desire. She felt her eyes sting and a tightness in her chest that confused her. As she met Karl's gaze, he must have seen and understood.
He tenderly rested his hands on her shoulders and said, "Look, it's Ok to accept this. If it brings you a little joy or peace, you deserve it. Besides, from what I've heard, art's very therapeutic."
"We have someone here every shift, so you can come anytime, Kara," Nancy softly said, her expression showing that she knew she was missing the exact subtext, but recognized that there was something important passing between the two.
With a hand still on her shoulder, he turned Kara and nudged her towards the metal cabinets that lined the side wall. "Nancy's assigned you a locker. I've already got the stuff the Admiral scrounged up in it. You can start anytime," he said, opening a locker that had a sticker labeled Thrace on the front.
Kara found herself beside him, hesitantly reaching in and pulling out a tackle box. When she flipped the lid open, her eyes widened at the variety and number of paint tubes and brushes revealed within. A delighted grin sketched across her face as she lifted her eyes to Karl's searching gaze.
"You like?" he asked, his eyes crinkling with pleasure…and relief. Probably been afraid she'd rebuff their gift.
She cleared her throat before answering, "Yeah, I like."
"I'll leave you to it then. I've a shift in CIC to cover," Helo said, and Kara gave him a distracted nod, busy inspecting the available brushes and not even noticing him flash the daycare worker an amused grin before making his quiet exit.
Kara's gaze shifted as Nancy moved to the side, and she noticed for the first time the easel leaning in the corner with a white smock hanging from it.
"I know the light's not great in here. And it's not very private. But I hope you'll come whenever you want," the other woman said as she straightened the wooden easel and looked back at Kara.
Pulling a small canvas from the storage unit, Kara brought over the precious box of paints and white rectangle to the waiting stand.
Then Kara's attention was wholly focused on the pleasures of smearing yellows and reds, and splashing shades of orange across the waiting white. After the first exuberant brush strokes, she found herself mixing darker hues that she used to slash across the previous bursts of tangerine joy as her consciousness shifted inwards. The deep purples resembled bruises, and if the burnt sienna that ran to crimson resembled stains of suffering, she was too intent on making lashes with the pigment to delve into its meaning. When she blinked back into a general awareness of her surroundings, she had no idea how long she'd been inflicting paint onto the now covered canvas.
She stepped back a pace to look at the results of her vehemence. There was nothing beautiful in the clashes of color and line she'd created. It spoke of a violence of intent and tint. It didn't take a lot of self examination to perceive the mess of emotional shades that saturated the surface before her. As Kara felt a presence at her shoulder, she twisted around in front of the painting, blocking it from view, the piece too revealing to share. She recognized Nancy, and the curiosity that vied with understanding in the other woman's expression.
"Sorry to disturb you," Nancy said. "I'm off now and just wanted to introduce you to Paula here." She waved over the new arrival, a heavy set woman in her middling fifties. The older woman gave a brief nod of greeting before returning to a pair of boys that were arguing over a toy battlestar, each tugging on one end. Watching the woman efficiently end the argument brought up a smile that surprised Kara by how natural it felt. She felt lighter, more relaxed, than she could remember in quite awhile.
Kara glanced down when Nancy extended a palm that held a key, "I found a lock to keep your stuff safe," she said with a nod towards the locker. "We got good kids here, but they like to get into things. Thought you'd probably need this."
Taking the proffered key, Kara pulled her dog tags over her head, adding it to the two tags and ring that already hung from the chain. As she slipped it back on, she had to swallow twice before lifting grateful eyes to the other woman. "Thanks," she mumbled, hoping that Nancy could hear the depth of feeling Kara couldn't find words to express. She must have because her amber-hued eyes lit with satisfaction as she turned to leave.
Kara shook her head at the unexpected gifts of paints and uncomplicated acceptance she'd received. Cleaning up her tools, she returned the almost dry painting to her locker. She ran a light finger over the label marking the contents as belonging to her and considered in wonder the effort extended on her behalf. Maybe her mom was wrong. Maybe she had worth if others were willing to do things like this just for her.
Strolling back to sickbay, she found it easier now to return the greetings of those she passed.