Chapter 102 Painted Corners

Kara watched through the cockpit as Kat gave the stranger on the catwalk another shove. She'd thought at first that the younger woman was just directing a wandering passenger back toward the holding area, but there was something definitely personal in the way she pushed the man along before her. She could see Kat's glare from here. Yup, she knew the guy. And, from the looks of things, wasn't any too happy to see him now.

Usually Kara didn't care who was frakking whom on the battlestar. This felt different, though. Less like Kat was mad at her boy toy who was down in a restricted area, and more like she'd gladly boot him out the nearest airlock. Add in the fact that Kara hadn't even heard the merest whisper that Kat had anyone special onboard, and her curiosity was fully roused. Besides, she was still irritated at the attitude the junior pilot had thrown her way during the briefing. She had assumed that they'd moved past the pissing contest. Wasn't that the reason for Kat's visit to her in sickbay?

Deciding to do a little investigating since they had hours yet before the fourth trip through, Kara rose and started to maneuver toward the rear of the Raptor, only jerk to a halt as she saw Lee duck inside.

"Lee," she said, startled and a little flustered.

"Last time I checked." A grin lifting some of the strain from his mouth.

"Smart-ass."

"Thought that was you."

"Yeah, but then you've obviously been hangin' out too much with me."

"Never," he fervently replied. And with that, the levity between them fell away, and a different kind of tension filled the void as Lee stepped in close to murmur, "I like hanging with you."

"Lee, I—"

He blocked her half-formed comeback with his lips, claiming her mouth and pulling her in to him. Kara reflexively stiffened, then relaxed against his chest and gave his questing tongue access, distantly marveling at how right it felt as his arms hugged her even closer.

Her hands impatiently pulled at his tanks where they were tucked into the folded down top of his flightsuit, working until she could slide her palms up the warm skin of his back. Hers weren't the only ones busy as Lee managed to tug the clinging suit from her shoulders, forcing the material down until Kara had to release her hold long enough to pull her arms free from the sleeves. There was a desperate hunger in Lee's kiss now. A matching need drove Kara as her arms rose and hands entangled themselves in his hair.

Gods, he feels so good...

With fingers running through his hair, Kara buried all thought and let the sensations shove everything else aside. She shivered as his palms ghosted up between them along her ribs. Then the cloth of her bra was pushed up and thumbs brushed both nipples causing a shudder that arched her head back. Now his lips trailed heat along her jawline, pausing to suck at the rapid pulse in her neck, and Kara moaned as a fever flashed through her.

Reality abruptly compressed around them as Galactica initiated the first of two FTL jumps for the return trip.

The instant of disorientation froze Kara in place, triggering memories as her confused senses registered the smell of wet paint and the feel of slickness on her skin. Passion fought with panic as she opened her eyes. White enveloped her. She was painted in white. Then his pale eyes were pinning her against the wall even as his hands locked about her wrists.

"You can't erase your destiny," Leoben murmured as he pressed her against the smeared wall of her denial. "Don't fight it."

With a gasp, Kara struck outward, both palms thrusting hard and driving him away. Fear and loathing were intermingled with arousal, leaving her reeling, hands raised defensively.

As the second jump constrict her perceptions once more, things again shifted about her and she stumbled back into something solid.

"..ra? Kara!" a hoarse voice called to her. "What the—" The voice broke off, then gentled. "Easy, Kara. It's me. It's Lee. You're safe. You're here on Galactica and you're safe."

As his words penetrated the chaos of images, Kara tried to concentrate on the familiar voice. The Raptor's interior coalesced around her. Choking on rapid gulps of air, she realized that she was pressed against the partition backing the pilot's seat.

"Kara?"

Blinking, she fought to separate the impression of two forms before her. With a painful snap, Lee's worried face shifted into focus, and she saw relief smooth some of the lines from the corners of his eyes as hers met his with recognition.

"Kara," Lee called again from a few feet away.

She shifted her gaze, anxiously searching for the Cylon.

There was no one else in the small shuttle.

There never had been.

Another flashback. She shook her head then. No. It was more than that, one of her frakking nightmares had merged into the present. Kara put her hands to her head, eyes closed tight as she worked through the confusion and conflicting emotions.

"Hey, what happened?" Too close. He was too close now.

Opening her eyes again, she held a palm out in warning to Lee. He'd stepped forward, his own hands raised hesitantly as if to encircle her but unsure whether to do so was safe.

"Nothing," she managed through clenched teeth. Now it was his turn to jerk back as if struck; the blatant lie as hard a blow as any she'd thrown before. "Lee, I…" she tried as the pain at her rejection carved new furrows above his brow and scraped sharply against her own soul in response. But what could she say? That the flashbacks were back? Not that she'd managed to shake them completely before, but was she suppose to tell him that now she was hallucinating about making love to the motherfrakker that had tormented her for months? Yeah, like she dared to tell Lee that.

"You're not going to talk to me, are you," he said, his words a hollowed statement as his arms fell to his side in defeat.

Kara opened her mouth, desperate to find something, anything, to bridge the chasm that was expanding between them. But her words were held shackled in her heart. There was nothing she could say that would explain—excuse—her frakked-up head. At her continued silence, Lee seemed to fold into himself and he turned away. Her hand rose of its own accord, reaching for him. As the constriction about her throat loosened, Kara's lips parted to call his name. But he twisted back around before the first whisper of sound, and his locked-down expression throttled her words again.

"Captain Thrace, you're grounded until further notice," he firmly said, all CAG now as he fell back on military protocol.

As the initial jolt of the shift in topic passed, "Lee, you can't. You need me," she protested.

"I do," his declaration a bare whisper as his professional masked slipped for an instance. He swallowed and Major Adama was forcefully back in place. "What I need are pilots that I can trust to do their job." As she flinched at his sharp words, "I can't trust you, Kara," tone softening further, "I don't dare."

He was right, of course, she thought. She wouldn't trust someone that had just flaked out like this, how could Lee?

"On the fifth trip, we've three more birds than civilian ships. I'll bump one from the fourth run and we'll still have a spare slot." She nodded numbly at his explanation and folded her arms about her ribs to fend off the chill of her failure. Unable to bear the disappointment she was sure she saw in his eyes, Kara ducked her head.

Fingers under her chin forced her gaze to meet his as Lee hesitantly said, "Look…you get some rest. See Doc Cottle. Talk to Laura or…whatever. Just get your head back in it and I'll reinstate you." At her doubtful look, he nodded.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Gods, Kara, don't," he said hoarsely. "This was my fault. I shouldn't have…" he trailed off on a sharp inhale and quickly turned to duck out the Raptor's hatch before she could form any coherent words to stop him. By the time her body unclenched enough to follow, she saw him hurrying through the nearest exit.

Staring across the hanger to where Lee had disappeared, Kara tightened her arms about herself, trying to keep the feeling that she was about to shatter from overwhelming her again. How'd she get back here at the bottom of a pit with the sides threatening to collapse in on her again? Had all the effort of the past month meant nothing?

Concentrating, she loosened her jaw and focused on breathing like Cottle had shown her. The feeling of being smothered eased. On shaking legs, she moved from the shuttle and along the wing, but the tension had been the only thing holding back the exhaustion and as she descended down the inset step, she stumbled, falling heavily to her hands and knees.

"…frak, frak, frak," she chanted through gritted teeth, riding out the wave of pain from the hard impact.

"Captain?"

She blinked against the moisture in her eyes and saw a pair of small boots in her line of vision. Between the orange of the jumpsuit and the feminine voice, Kara didn't have to look up to know that it was Cally at her side. "Frak!" she muttered one more time for good measure before lifting her head.

"Are you hurt, Sir? Should I get a medic?"

"No, don't bother," she said, then pushed to her feet and the gingerly rubbed at bruised kneecaps. Banged up but intact, she concluded. Straightening, "I'm fine," she assured the worried-looking deckhand.

"Excuse me, Sir, but you've said that before," admonished Cally with her hands on hips now. Kara gapped at the smaller woman, startled that the usually demure Specialist should call her out like this.

"Right," she said, uncomfortably reminded at how much Cally probably knew. She had been witness to many of the incidences on the flight deck over the past couple of months, and who knew what the Chief had shared with his wife. "Right," she repeated. "Just frakkin' tired…and starving, so…" she trailed off with a shrug.

"We all are."

As fear and worry tightened Cally's features, Kara guessed that she was thinking about her kid. Abruptly Kacey's bright face, cheek smudged by green paint as Kara had last seen her, came to mind. The fleet's children. All probably crying from hunger. She knew that the Admiral and President had made plans to see that the children got first dibs on the algae as it was processed, so they'd all be ok. After all, a couple of days without food wouldn't cause any lasting harm. Didn't she know this from experience, having survived several times when her mom had punished her by withholding food?

So, yeah, the kids would be fine.

This time.

Again Kara was forced to the realization of how precarious their future was, this latest crisis a painful reminder of how close to the edge the remnants of humanity trod each day.

How long could they go on this way? What alternative really was there?

The vote to settle New Caprica only emphasized how tired of running the people were. And yet, the disaster they'd made at colonizing that dirt clod of a planet—even before the Cylons' return—showed how ill equipped the Colonials were for starting over.

They needed to find the Thirteenth Tribe.

And they needed to do it soon.

Pulling her thoughts back to the present, Kara gave the younger woman a thin smile, hoping to forestall any further probing. She wasn't prepared to deal with a suddenly assertive Cally.

"It's gonna take a few hours to bring on the next load of civies, so I'm hitting my rack for awhile if anyone needs me," she said.

"Good idea, Sir."

"Thanks for the permission, Specialist," she sardonically replied, then felt vaguely guilty as Cally's cheeks flushed. Kara gave a mental grunt of frustration. She didn't have the energy to play nice and if Cally couldn't deal with the sharp side of her tongue then she should've minded her own frakking business.

Twisting away, Kara held steady against the slight vertigo and strode from the deck.