Fic: Light Steals Home My Heavy Son (Kara/Lee, R)
Title: Light Steals Home My Heavy Son
Author: Maren
Pairing: Kara/Lee
Rating: R
Spoilers: Through Crossroads II. Season 4 Spec but I am unspoiled and so is this fic.
Summary: Ten seconds, maybe less. It’s not enough time and more than he’d ever thought he’d have again.
Author's Note: Written for canadiangirl_86 for the klficathon who requested S4 spec and confessions. Thank you thank you thank you to my hardworking betas, wisteria_ and indigo419 who have put in an amazing number of beta-hours on this fic and it's upcoming sequel (which I started first- go figure). They made this fic so much better and I can't thank them enough.
As always, this will be archived to my IJ fic archive.
Light Steals Home My Heavy Son
Ten seconds, maybe less. It’s not enough time and more than he’d ever thought he’d have again.
She’s solid and real in his arms, smells like sweat and sweet cigar and maybe something new underneath or maybe he’s just finally gone as insane as she’s always been.
“Kara,” he whispers into her ear, private and broken and over and over until they pull them apart. Her hands grip his shoulders, fingers painting electric strokes against the skin over his collar and someone yells at her to let him go. She doesn’t, holds on to him just as tight as he clutches her, hands fisted into his flight suit even as the marines pull them apart.
“It really is me.” Same words as before, but there’s a fire in them that sounds more like her, an urgency that hadn’t been there the first time. He nods. He believes her, knew it the second he touched her.
Lee’s only a little surprised when it’s him they take away.
*
The next time he sees her he’s dressed in a suit and tie and carrying a case. He’s here as her lawyer, the thinnest of pretext given the fact that if she’s a Cylon as they claim, she doesn’t have any rights under Colonial Law. The fact that he isn’t actually an attorney is beside the point. They’re all outlaws now as far as he’s concerned, but a part of him still that thinks they’ll make it if they can just fake it long enough.
The marine guard leads him to her cell, and he doesn’t know if it’s a good sign that it’s not one of the special Cylon variety. She’s sitting on the cot, back against the wall, forearms looped across her knees and the only thing missing from the picture of disdainful indifference is a bottle dangling between her legs. Lee drinks in the sight, eyes scanning her for signs of mistreatment or life, he isn’t sure. He sees both in the shape of a bruise across her cheek and he is flooded with relief. In the days since her return he has been haunted with thoughts of worse and as frakked up as it might be, the mottled skin makes her more real, makes her more Kara.
Her eyes are closed and her breath is shallow but there are signs of tension around her eyes and lips, the slightest tightening that belies her attention. Lee swallows thickly and gestures for the guard to unlock the cell. He doesn’t trust himself to speak yet, doesn’t know if he can manage anything between a yell and a whimper. The guard slaps down a chair and Lee sees Kara flinch at the sound of metal grating against metal but she doesn’t open her eyes. Lee steps inside and lays his case on the chair, hears the clang of the door behind him and the footsteps of the guard as he retreats.
Then they’re alone. The last time they were alone, they were flying side by side. The time before that she’d said goodbye and he’d watched her explode into pieces.
He looks at her and he can’t forget so he closes his eyes. Just for a moment, just until he remembers how horrible it was to believe that he’d never see her again. When he opens them she’s looking back at him.
“This seems familiar. What brings the busy Major Adama to see me in the brig? Did the worlds end again?” She smirks at him but all he sees are the shadows under her eyes and chains around her wrists. The thread of hurt in her voice is unmistakable, no matter how hard she tries to hide it.
He’s surprised at her hurt, even more surprised that no one has bothered to tell her that he isn’t allowed on Galactica any longer without special permission. He wonders if her husband, the pilot, has been allowed to see her. He can’t help the resentment that accompanies the thought, even though he realizes how petty it is. Lee was a witness to Sam’s grief at the loss of his wife, saw the way he crumbled and scattered in a way that Lee had wished he’d been allowed. He has to hope that Sam has been allowed to see her, can only hope she’s seen a friendly face.
“Kara,” he says in a rough voice, wonders for a split second if that’s all he’ll ever be able to say in her presence before he clears his throat and tries again. “I came as soon as I could. I surrendered my commission before you. . . I was only allowed to see you to serve as your legal counsel.”
She squints at him, then barks out a humorless laugh.
“Legal counsel? Guess that explains the suit.” As she speaks, she unfolds her body from the cot and stands, takes three steps until she’s right there in front of him. “What the frak is going on around here, Lee?”
What does she want him to say? She died, and everything turned upside down. People fell apart in ways he never would have imagined and when they picked themselves back up, they were different. Sam had tried to become her, a pilot and a drunk and more if the rumors were true. Lee had tried to become someone new, had left behind his career and his family and everything else he thought he’d believed in before. And where some things were completely different, life had rewound in other ways. Laura was dying again, Baltar was free, and he and his father weren’t speaking.
It’s an overwhelming list of ways her death frakked them all, but right now, with her standing there in front of him with that pissed-off look on her bruised face, none of it seems worth talking about.
He reaches out, hesitates for just a moment before lightly cupping her chin and brushing his thumb across the bloom of her cheek.
“Are you okay?”
She ducks her chin, and he lets his hand drop back to his side.
“Not everyone has been happy to see me.” She cocks an eyebrow and shrugs.
It’s a quintessential Kara-move and Lee feels a flash of anger. Easy for her to be nonchalant. Easy for her to have a thorn in her paw about the details of her homecoming when she wasn’t the one that got left behind. He feels his jaw clench, knows she sees it by the way her eyes flick down, then to the side. She sighs and backs away from him.
“Right.”
He hears the defeat in her voice and just like that, his anger is gone. All this stilted small talk, all this distance, it’s frakking ridiculous. He’s tired of this dance, tired of pushing at her until she pushes back. He just wants to touch her again, hold her and feel her and know she’s there. Lee follows her retreat, waits as she sits back down on the cot and then sits beside her. He spreads his legs until his knee touches hers, turns his head and watches her until she relaxes her shoulders and presses her knee back into his.
Lee takes a deep breath and when he speaks, he can’t stop the ache from edging into his voice. “I saw your Viper explode, Kara. What the hell happened to you out there?”
She glances at him, sucks the corner of her bottom lip in and bites down for a second before letting out an audible breath. “Are you asking as my friend or as my counsel?”
He wonders if it matters, if it will change her answer. I’m asking as someone who’s so frakking happy to see you breathing. As someone who loves you and is tired of pretending otherwise.
“Both.”
Kara nods, then angles her body so she’s facing him more fully, so she can look him straight in the eye.
“It’s complicated. I was. . . I don’t know. Not conscious, like I was dreaming but I wasn’t asleep. I don’t know how long I was like that but then suddenly everything was solid and real again. I was back in the sky and I just knew. It was like some safe place that had been hidden inside of me all along was unlocked, and I knew things.”
Like a Cylon. Like Boomer, who went on a mission and came back with the knowledge she was supposed to kill his father.
Lee knows she isn’t telling him everything, but he doesn’t think she’s lying either. The explanation sounds a little rote, like she’s said it before and he guesses she probably has in the days they’ve had her here, locked and chained. But there’s also an earnest sort of awe to her voice, relaxed and a little distant in a way recognizes from before, when he was trapped in a Viper and watching her fly into the storm. When she was back again, and telling him everything was going to be ok.
He wonders if she still believes that.
“You said you can take us to Earth.”
She reaches over and grabs his hands, her face blooming into the first genuine smile he’s seen since her Viper flew into formation next to his. “Yes.”
Lee can’t resist smiling back. His thumbs trace over her knuckles, back and forth for several long moments as he just looks at her.
The beeping of his watch, signaling the last minutes of the time he’s been allotted alone with her, breaks the spell. Kara pulls her hands away from his and all Lee can think is that there wasn’t enough time. He wants to give in to the part of him that is screaming in protest, the part that wants to grab her hands and pull them back, keep on pulling until she’s flush against his body and locked in his arms. The thought of leaving her again, of not being allowed to watch her move and breathe and speak, is nearly unbearable.
He clenches his hands on his knees, resisting the urge to give in to his panic, and reminds himself why he’s here. There are only minutes left and if he wants to be of any help to her, he has to control himself.
“We’re not on the best of terms, but I’ll talk to the Admiral. He may not listen but he’s your best shot. . .”
Kara interrupts him with a soft snort. She stands up and faces away from him.
“I’m no attorney, but I wouldn’t count on the Old Man helping to bust me out.” Her voice is as tight as her shoulders and she doesn’t have to say anything else for him to know who bruised her face. He feels the familiar bloom of rage, hot and thick in his chest, threatening to rise up and choke him. His hands clench into fists in his lap, knuckles going white with the strain but he forces them to relax. Lee can’t afford it right now, doesn’t have time for it. He has a job to do for her. It’s the most important job he’s ever had.
Lee stands up. “At the very least they need to formally charge you with something. We can’t fight charges that don’t even exist.”
She nods and spins back around, her gaze drawn to something over his shoulder for a split second before her eyes land on him again. She closes the distance between them and when she stops moving he can hear the guard approaching.
“I know it sounds insane, Lee. I know that. But I need you to trust me. I need you to be my friend.”
The marine guard clears his throat and rattles his keys. Lee ignores the intrusion, grabs her elbow and slides his hand down her forearm in silent acknowledgement, eyes never leaving hers. He watches her tongue track out over her lips, a quick nervous flick, and then she leans her body into his. “I. . . I missed you,” she whispers, then pulls away while he’s still reeling with the feeling of her, the familiar admission that means more than it should.
“Time’s up. You need to exit the cell right now, Mr. Adama.” The unfamiliar marine swings open the door and steps inside
Lee shakes his head, but he knows better than to push his luck if he ever wants to be allowed back. He grabs his unopened case from the chair and leaves the cell.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Kara.”
She nods, and he turns away, not sure he can make himself leave if he looks at her one moment more. He’s almost to the hatch of the brig when she calls out to him.
“Lee. Aren’t you going to ask?”
He turns and glances at the impassive face of the guard, then looks at her. She’s staring him down, daring him to ask the question that’s on everyone’s mind. He wonders if she even has an answer, if she knows what she is and if she’d tell him even if she did.
“It doesn’t matter, Kara.” I . . . you died and you took a part of me with you. Whatever you are now, you’re Kara. You’re back and I don’t feel as empty anymore. “If you say I can trust you, that’s all I need.”
She snorts. “Some lawyer you make.” But her voice is as warm as her smile and Lee gets the impression he just passed a test he’s been taking since the day he first met her.
*
His new quarters on the Helion Traveler are larger than he’s used to, and also largely empty. Once he surrendered his military gear, he wasn’t left with much of his own but he isn’t going to complain. Lee knows he was lucky to get a place to himself considering the situation in the fleet since the Exodus from New Caprica and the loss of the Pegasus. He owes Romo Lampkin a favor in return someday, and he isn’t looking forward to the day he has to pay up. Lampkin has a way of asking more of him than Lee cares to give.
He’s sitting at the desk in the front room of the small suite, poring over his grandfather’s books and putting together a petition for Kara’s release. As she’d predicted, the Admiral had refused to discuss her imprisonment with him and he was left trying to put together a legal argument that might force his father and the President to at least charge her with a crime.
An urgent rap on the outer door makes Lee drop his pen. He stands and reaches the door in four strides, a bad feeling settling in the pit of his stomach at the continued knocking. No one has visited him here in the short time he’s been in residence; not many people even know where he is.
He opens the door to find an unfamiliar man who looks to be a few years younger than him. The man nods at him but doesn’t smile.
“Mr. Adama, my name is Spencer Thelos. Mr. Lampkin sent me. It’s about Captain Thrace. May I come in?”
The knot in his stomach turns to lead and Lee steps back and gestures Spencer inside. He pushes the door closed again with more force than necessary and spins back toward the stranger.
“What about Captain Thrace?” His voice is hard, demanding. Something is definitely wrong. Lampkin wouldn’t be getting involved if it wasn’t serious, and it is all Lee can do to hold back the terror that is threatening to overwhelm him.
“There was an incident on Galactica earlier this afternoon. During an interrogation of Captain Thrace, President Roslin ordered the marine guard to put the Captain out of an airlock. . .”
Lee feels himself choke on the air in his lungs, feels his control crumble as his face contorts. He reaches out blindly with one arm, feels his hand connect with the wall as if from a distance. There’s a ringing in his ears, cutting everything out but the constant replay of her name, running circles in his head.
Spencer pauses in his explanation, a look of concern passing over his features and he reaches out to put a bracing hand on Lee’s shoulder. Lee hears Spencer calling his name and he struggles to focus, forces his eyes back to Spencer’s, forces himself to take a breath and refocus on what Spencer is saying.
“The Captain is safe for now, Mr. Adama. I’m sorry; I should have started with that information. Captain Thrace escaped and has been hidden on the Astral Queen.”
The relief that floods his body collides with what’s left of the panic and for one second he’s unsteady, the intensity of his emotions making his heart pound hard in his chest and his lungs ache with the effort to breath. Lee manages to nod at Spencer, then uses every ounce of his military training to compose his face and body, to push everything but the mission aside. He stalks back to his desk, every step more controlled than the last. When he opens a drawer and pulls out the black market gun he’d acquired the first day after Kara’s return and his forced removal from Galactica, his hands are steady. He moves into his bedroom and opens the small closet, grabs two clips from the shelf and a jacket from a hanger. The gun goes in the waistband of his jeans and he slips on the jacket, stows the extra rounds in the pockets as he walks back into the outer room to join Spencer.
The man starts talking, voice low, as they exit Lee’s quarters. “There is an interfleet shuttle waiting in the bay for you. Once we board we will need to make several stops before you reach the Astral Queen. We will disguise your destination as best we can to prevent leading the marines to Captain Thrace. Mr. Lampkin has arranged for the flight logs to be altered, and I’ll be stopping on The Rising Star under your name.”
Lee nods. It isn’t a perfect plan, but it’s the best they’re going to do on short notice. The general lack of resources for civilian forces and the natural distrust of the military should buy them a good amount of time to cover Kara’s trail. With any luck she should be able to hide in the fleet until his father and Roslin come to their frakking senses.
His mind flickers to an image of Roslin ordering Kara’s execution, of Kara being pulled out into the cold blackness of space to die alone. Lee grits his teeth, jaw flexing as he trades the leaden knot of sickness in his stomach for colder, heavier rage. He used to respect Laura Roslin more than anyone else in the fleet, maybe even more than his father. This war has changed them all, he knows, but he wonders exactly when Roslin became a tyrant. And now that his mind is functioning again, he wonders how Kara managed to avoid the airlock. He’s never doubted that Starbuck could fight herself out of the tightest of situations, but he still has a frakload of questions.
He checks the corridor, makes sure that no one is close enough to overhear them, and asks the most obvious one.
“How’d she escape?”
Spencer glances at him briefly. “All I have is third-hand information but it appears that her husband was there when it happened and that he pulled his weapon on President Roslin. Captain Thrace was taken off-ship and then smuggled onto the Astral Queen with Vice President Zarek’s aid.”
Tom Zarek. His involvement doesn’t surprise Lee as much as it probably should, given his attempts at legitimacy over the past year. But he’s been strangely quiet since handing over the presidency to Roslin, and Lee is immediately grateful for Zarek’s help, even if he isn’t naïve enough to completely trust him or his motives. In any case, Zarek’s aid doesn’t explain how Kara escaped from a military ship without being tracked.
Lee waits to ask until they’ve cleared the residential area and are making their way through the open commons of the Traveler, he and Spencer keeping close to the wall and avoiding the other passengers with as wide a berth as possible. “How the frak did they manage to get her off Galactica?”
Spencer slows, hesitates for a beat and then meets Lee’s gaze with an almost naked look of hope on his face that is in stark contrast to the efficient, business-like presence he’s maintained. “The rumor making fleet rounds is that Captain Thrace knows the way to Earth. Is that true?”
For a moment Lee is surprised. He’s been entirely consumed with Kara’s return, the fact that she’s alive when she’s supposed to be dead, that he hasn’t given very much thought to her promise to lead them to Earth. It hits him then, how important her survival is not only to him, but to the entire fleet.
“Yes. It’s true”
Spencer smiles then, and it’s brief, a measured but genuine expression before he turns serious once again.
“Then I suspect there are those even on Galactica who want to make sure she survives.”
*
Lee disembarks on the Astral Queen two hours later, restless and frustrated with the delay. Zarek greets him personally and, as if sensing his impatience, immediately leads him to the guard quarters. He doesn’t stop until he reaches a nondescript hatch halfway down a long corridor.
“She’s in here. We can probably keep her hidden through the first round of ship-to-ship searches, but you shouldn’t stay long. A few hours, maybe less before they start looking for you too.”
Lee’s eyes are hard and uncompromising as they meet Zarek’s. “They can look for me all they want. I’m not leaving her.”
Zarek’s lips pull into the small, politician smile he’s perfected. It’s a look of placating diplomacy, but he nods and backs away and at the moment, it’s enough.
“Work it out with Starbuck and then let me know what you plan to do.”
Lee doesn’t answer, turns back to the hatch and hears Zarek retreat as he spins the wheel.
The interior of the cabin is dim, lit only by the safety track around the perimeter and stray light coming from the adjacent head. He scans the small room, thinks for a second that she must be in the head until he catches a glimpse of blond hair against the wall on the other side of the bunk. He feels some of the tension inside him unwind at the sight of her, at the evidence that she’s still alive.
“Kara, it’s me.” He steps further into the room and dogs the hatch behind him. She doesn’t answer so he moves toward her, concern growing once again at the silence and the way she’s sitting on the floor, wedged against wall and bunk. She’s in a ball, forehead resting on the arms that are hugging her knees to her chest and when he reaches her he drops into a crouch, reaches out to lightly touch her arm.
“Are you okay?” It’s a stupid question to ask because no matter how dark it is he’d have to be blind not to see that she’s not all right. She’s collapsed in on herself, balled up on a cold hard floor in the virtual dark and now that he’s close to her he can hear how ragged her breathing is. The only other time he’s seen her like this was the night he found out Zak was dead and it terrifies him because he needs her to be strong. He needs to believe that she’s fine.
“Kara, I need you to tell me what the hell happened on Galactica.” This time when he speaks, he adds a note of command.
She doesn’t look at him, but finally she responds, her voice slightly muffled by her arms.
“Frak, Lee. Roslin was going to vent me.” She snorts and shrugs. “I’ve seen her do it before, but I thought. . .I thought they’d come around, that everything would be fine in the end but if it hadn’t been for Sam, I. . . Frak me.” Her voice is shaky by the end and Lee has to close his eyes against the sudden, vivid image of her body floating through space. He takes a deep breath and forces his eyes open again.
“Kara. . . ” he begins, trying to soothe her, trying to get her to unfold and open up to him.
She cuts him off, speaks again in a voice laced with resignation, with despair. “They’re never going to trust me, are they? We’re going to be stuck on these ships until the Cylons blow us all away and there’s not a frakking thing I can do about it.”
She starts laughing, high and sour, and finally lifts her head and tilts her face toward him. What there is of the light catches it, illuminates the paleness of her skin and the blood that’s matted in the hair at her temple and streaked down her neck. His heart slams into his throat as he sees the dark splotch spread across the front of her tanks and he all he can see is red, of blood and loss and a rage that has simmered inside him since the moment he heard her surrender to death in her Viper.
Lee makes a noise, a cross between her name and something incoherent, animal and frantic. He reaches out and touches her face, sweeps his fingers into the bloody mass of hair at her temple and searches for the source of all of it. He can hear her saying something, feels her hands pushing at his but he doesn’t listen, grabs her wrist with his free hand and holds it away as he moves from her temple down her neck, fingers probing as they follow the trail of dried blood.
“Lee. Lee. It’s not mine. Sam killed the Marine who was trying to shove me out the airlock.”
He can’t find it, can’t find the source, and when she stops trying to pull free and goes still, his eyes fly back to her face.
“Lee, stop. Did you hear me? It’s not my blood.”
He hauls her to her feet, hands clasped tight around her biceps as he pulls her into the head where he can see her, where he can make sure. He lets go of one arm, barely notices the smear of blood his hand has left as he turns her head and checks it again. When he’s convinced she isn’t bleeding there he reaches down and pulls her tanks off with one quick tug at the hem. The blood on her torso is already dry, already flaking off and he can finally believe that she isn’t hurt.
The part of his brain that is still rational knows he can relax now, knowing she isn’t hurt, but everything else in him is screaming that he almost lost her again. He was sitting in his civilian cabin on his civilian ship, writing up a frakking legal argument based on a dead system of justice while Kara almost died and left him alone again. Lee can’t think beyond it, can’t forgive himself for not being there to save her, can’t forgive her for needing to be saved.
“Lee,” she starts again in that soft, calming tone and Lee doesn’t want to frakking hear it. He doesn’t want to be soothed. What he wants, what he wants. . .
Lee wants too much when it comes to Kara, he always has, but right now he’ll start with shutting her up.
He grabs the back of her neck, slants his mouth over hers and takes advantage of her parted lips to lick his tongue inside. It’s desperate, too hard, and his teeth scrape against her bottom lip. She doesn’t stop him though, doesn’t push him away, and by the time his free hand has found her waist she’s pulling him closer, fingers digging into his shoulders hard enough to bruise.
He doesn’t care, not when she tastes this good, not when she feels so alive against him. Now that he’s sure she isn’t going anywhere he loosens his grip on her neck, drags his hand over her shoulder and down her torso, feels her skin stutter under his palm. Her heart is pounding hard enough that he can feel it and Lee lets his hand rest there for several long seconds, lets the beat of it calm him where her reassurances couldn’t.
He pulls away from her mouth, just a fraction, just enough to take a breath but Kara makes a frustrated sound in her throat and follows his retreat. Her tongue flicks against his upper lip, once, twice, and he groans, captures her mouth again. Kara arches into him as he palms her breast and he takes it as encouragement, swipes his thumb over the cotton-covered nipple with enough pressure to bring it to a straining bud.
“Lee,” she moans, her voice tight with a need that matches his own, and it’s like something inside him has been waiting for this since he saw her again, waiting for some sign, some acknowledgment that Kara might need him a fraction as much as he needs her.
Her hands drag over his chest, and she pushes his jacket off his shoulders, makes him let go of her long enough to let it fall to the ground and then one of her hands is pulling the gun out of his waistband and setting it in the sink with a clatter as her other hand yanks his t-shirt out of his pants.
Lee pulls out of her reach, and she makes a noise of protest. He looks at her, his eyes sweeping over her face and her torso and she’s covered in someone else’s blood but she’s beautiful to him. The curve of her breast, the striation of her ribs, the dip of her waist. It’s the same, it’s Kara, and Lee’s body is heavy and hard with recognition.
He wraps a hand around her waist, pulls her to him again, rests his forehead against hers. He knows his head isn’t on straight, knows every emotion he’s ever felt for her, because of her, is too close to the surface. He also knows it doesn’t matter, that what he is about to tell her is absolute truth. Maybe he’ll regret it later, but right now he’s walking a tightrope of fear and rage and a love he stopped trying to deny a long time ago.
Kara touches her fingers to his chest, slides a palm over his heart.
“I love you, Kara, and I don’t care anymore.” His voice is quiet, cracked. He doesn’t care, he doesn’t care about any of the things that used to complicate everything when it came to the two of them. He needs her to know. “I don’t care if you stay married to Anders. I need you. I can’t lose you, Kara. I won’t survive it again.”
He can hear her breathing in the aftermath of his confession, of his plea. She’s completely still except for her breath and for a second he wonders if she’s going to run. Wonders if she’d rather be in an actual prison than be trapped by the weight of what he feels for her. Then she slides her hands under his shirt and pulls it up, over his head, and when it’s off and he can see her again, she’s looking at him with clear, calm eyes.
“I love you, too. I need you too.”
*
The bunk is narrow and the sheets are coarse, and as Lee watches Kara’s eyelids flutter as she sleeps and dreams, he wonders if he’ll ever get to make love to her somewhere comfortable.
Not that it matters, not when her shower-damp hair is spread across his arm and the pillow and his body is still warm and relaxed in the aftermath of their reunion. Not when she’d let him wash her hair and body clean of the blood and dirt, then let him lay her down, let him make his claim on her body and convince himself in one more way that she was really alive.
Lee feels his leg start to cramp and he shifts as gently as possible, trying not to disturb Kara’s rest. She has dark circles under her eyes, evidence of the stress of her confinement, and he doubts anything about her stolen freedom will be any more restful in the days, maybe weeks to come. Staying hidden in the fleet will be a challenge, and though it’s been done before, he knows that his father won’t forget the devastating consequences. Lee also knows that this escape, these refugees, will be more personal than Gina Envierre’s.
Just as he settles into a more comfortable position, Kara’s eyes blink open. He waits to see panic, or regret, but all he can find reflected in her gaze is a sleepy warmth. Lee lets himself relax again.
“Hi,” he murmurs, cups her cheek and brushes his lips over her forehead.
Kara makes a low sound of contentment in her throat. “Hi yourself.” Her head lifts off his shoulder and she gazes around the room, looking for something, then drops back down. “How long was I asleep?”
Lee runs his hand down her side until his hand rests on her hip. “Not very long.” Not long enough.
She chuckles at the disapproving tone of his voice and he considers himself lucky that she hasn’t decked him for being a paternalistic ass. “Long enough to dream.”
He smiles back. “Good ones?”
Kara nods but doesn’t fill in the blanks. She closes her eyes and sighs and he can see the weight settling back on her shoulders. When she looks at him again, her eyes are serious, regretful. “You should probably go,” she says, sitting up as she speaks.
Lee feels a flash of anger, follows her up. “I told you I’m not leaving you, Kara.”
She rolls her eyes and he wants to snarl, wants to lash out at her for lulling him into believing she wanted him as much as he wants her, for refusing to let him stand by her side. Then she’s leaning forward and kissing him, soft, wet pulls against his lips that chase all other thought away.
When she pulls away, she grabs his hand. Lee watches her face, watches a play of emotion cross her features as she worries her bottom lip with her teeth. And then she decides something. He can see it wash over her, the strength and confidence that are synonymous with her in his head.
“Do you remember the tomb? Standing in the circle of the Gods, looking up at the sky and knowing that the ground under our feet was Earth?”
Lee remembers, everything about it standing out with a sharp clarity in his memory: the dew damp scent of the grass, the crisp freshness of the air, the way Kara sparkled brighter than the constellations overhead.
“I remember.”
Kara nods and takes another breath. And then she opens to him, her voice hesitant and a little distant, like what she is relating is more than a memory, is more like a confession.
“I remember being there. Not just back on Kobol but when I was . . . when I was gone. I was there and I could see everything but it was all broken down, like one of those old paintings made up of little dots of color. I could see the way everything fit together, even the stars. Especially the stars.”
This is the information everyone has been wanting, waiting for, especially Lee. From the moment Kara appeared again, flying beside him with this same calm, reassuring expression on her face that is so new to her. From the second she told him everything was going to be okay, that she was going to take everyone to Earth.
Lee doesn’t know what to think. It seems so intangible, so unreal. He knows his doubt is showing on his face, can tell by the answering flicker in her eyes, but she doesn’t look away.
“How do you know, Kara? How do you know what you see is the way to Earth? What if you were captured? What if it was the Cylons?” Lee has a dozen other unspoken questions, most of them centering around the possibility that she’s a Cylon herself. He doesn’t ask if she’s considered that it’s her own programming, a trap.
She glances up the ceiling and her shoulders drop, just a fraction, starts to pull her hand away. Lee doesn’t know what to think but he knows he doesn’t want her to retreat. He knows he wants her to help him understand. This newfound openness between them isn’t something he’s going to let go of without a fight. He grabs her hand and pulls it back, twines their fingers together.
“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand.”
“You think I don’t know how insane this all is? I’m the one with the missing months and the special destiny here. It’s just. . . I know I’m right the same way I know that the Gods are out there, guiding us. Guiding me. The same way that I know that one day I’m going to stand on Earth again and you’re going to be standing beside me. I have faith” She shrugs, and then starts to smile. “I just frakkin’ believe, Lee.”
Lee doesn’t believe in the Gods, not the way Kara does. But in this moment, he knows without a doubt that he believes in Kara Thrace. He leans forward, uses his free hand to cup her face. He keeps his eyes open as he kisses her, wills her to see his faith.
“I love you,” he whispers against her lips as they break apart.
Kara licks her lips and nods. She hesitates.
“About Sam . . . ,” her voice breaks on his name and she glances down to where their fingers are twined together before finding his eyes again. Lee fights the urge to pull away. He doesn’t want to lose this comfortable peace between them by talking about her marriage, not yet.
“I love him, and he saved my ass back there. He’s going to be tried for treason and murder because of me and I will never forget that. I will never forgive myself for that. But we’re over. It’s one of the things we were talking about when. . .” Kara stops and takes in a shuddering breath, then shakes her head.
Her admission surprises him but what surprises him more is that the joy he feels is muted, tainted by the circumstances. She's his now, as much as she ever belongs to anyone but herself, and as happy as it makes him, he knows that this wasn't a competition and there are no winners. He thinks of Sam, confined to the brig and likely headed to his own execution for saving the woman both of them love. He shifts and pulls Kara until she settles in his lap, wraps his arms around her and kisses her shoulder, her neck.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, a whisper in the hair behind her ear.
She lets him hold her for several long minutes and he closes his eyes, lets himself feel the exhaustion he’s been holding back for days. The rollercoaster of emotion he’s felt in the past few hours catches up with him and he feels a sharp sting behind his eyelids and a pounding in his temples.
It takes him a moment to realize the pounding is timed almost perfectly with a light rapping on the hatch of the cabin.
Kara sits up and turns to face him. “Lee. I know you think you need to stay with me, but what I really need is you out there in the fleet, able to move around in the open. You have got to go back before you give the Admiral and Roslin reason to charge you with helping me. Please.”
He frowns at her. “No, Kara. I’m not leaving you alone. I’m a big boy. I can handle the consequences. . .”
“Frak, Lee, shut up for a minute and listen to me. I have a plan, and you should know by now I come up with some frakking amazing plans. I know you resigned, but can you just be a good soldier and do what I’m asking here, Apollo?”
Lee studies her face, the raised brow and the annoyed wrinkle in her forehead. There’s a reckless, confident glint in her eye that is all Starbuck and he feels himself giving in despite the way his heart is screaming at him to refuse.
She can see it too, can tell she’s won because her face relaxes and she smiles, kisses him again so thoroughly that he knows it’s goodbye.
*
The visit from the marines comes within an hour of his return to the Helion Traveler. His hair is still wet from the shower that washed the scent of them away from his body, and he’s still frustrated at having to leave, terrified for her safety. The barely controlled emotions make it easy for him to pretend he doesn’t know what the marines are talking about, and he follows their visit with a phone call to his father, demanding to know what the frak is happening under his command. He doesn’t have to fake the fury he feels at the Admiral for his complicity in Kara’s near-execution, intentional or not.
Lee plays this first part in Kara’s plan with the taste and feel of her fresh in his senses, with the “I love you” she spoke at his departure ringing in his ears.
He knows it is only the beginning.
Author: Maren
Pairing: Kara/Lee
Rating: R
Spoilers: Through Crossroads II. Season 4 Spec but I am unspoiled and so is this fic.
Summary: Ten seconds, maybe less. It’s not enough time and more than he’d ever thought he’d have again.
Author's Note: Written for canadiangirl_86 for the klficathon who requested S4 spec and confessions. Thank you thank you thank you to my hardworking betas, wisteria_ and indigo419 who have put in an amazing number of beta-hours on this fic and it's upcoming sequel (which I started first- go figure). They made this fic so much better and I can't thank them enough.
As always, this will be archived to my IJ fic archive.
Light Steals Home My Heavy Son
Ten seconds, maybe less. It’s not enough time and more than he’d ever thought he’d have again.
She’s solid and real in his arms, smells like sweat and sweet cigar and maybe something new underneath or maybe he’s just finally gone as insane as she’s always been.
“Kara,” he whispers into her ear, private and broken and over and over until they pull them apart. Her hands grip his shoulders, fingers painting electric strokes against the skin over his collar and someone yells at her to let him go. She doesn’t, holds on to him just as tight as he clutches her, hands fisted into his flight suit even as the marines pull them apart.
“It really is me.” Same words as before, but there’s a fire in them that sounds more like her, an urgency that hadn’t been there the first time. He nods. He believes her, knew it the second he touched her.
Lee’s only a little surprised when it’s him they take away.
*
The next time he sees her he’s dressed in a suit and tie and carrying a case. He’s here as her lawyer, the thinnest of pretext given the fact that if she’s a Cylon as they claim, she doesn’t have any rights under Colonial Law. The fact that he isn’t actually an attorney is beside the point. They’re all outlaws now as far as he’s concerned, but a part of him still that thinks they’ll make it if they can just fake it long enough.
The marine guard leads him to her cell, and he doesn’t know if it’s a good sign that it’s not one of the special Cylon variety. She’s sitting on the cot, back against the wall, forearms looped across her knees and the only thing missing from the picture of disdainful indifference is a bottle dangling between her legs. Lee drinks in the sight, eyes scanning her for signs of mistreatment or life, he isn’t sure. He sees both in the shape of a bruise across her cheek and he is flooded with relief. In the days since her return he has been haunted with thoughts of worse and as frakked up as it might be, the mottled skin makes her more real, makes her more Kara.
Her eyes are closed and her breath is shallow but there are signs of tension around her eyes and lips, the slightest tightening that belies her attention. Lee swallows thickly and gestures for the guard to unlock the cell. He doesn’t trust himself to speak yet, doesn’t know if he can manage anything between a yell and a whimper. The guard slaps down a chair and Lee sees Kara flinch at the sound of metal grating against metal but she doesn’t open her eyes. Lee steps inside and lays his case on the chair, hears the clang of the door behind him and the footsteps of the guard as he retreats.
Then they’re alone. The last time they were alone, they were flying side by side. The time before that she’d said goodbye and he’d watched her explode into pieces.
He looks at her and he can’t forget so he closes his eyes. Just for a moment, just until he remembers how horrible it was to believe that he’d never see her again. When he opens them she’s looking back at him.
“This seems familiar. What brings the busy Major Adama to see me in the brig? Did the worlds end again?” She smirks at him but all he sees are the shadows under her eyes and chains around her wrists. The thread of hurt in her voice is unmistakable, no matter how hard she tries to hide it.
He’s surprised at her hurt, even more surprised that no one has bothered to tell her that he isn’t allowed on Galactica any longer without special permission. He wonders if her husband, the pilot, has been allowed to see her. He can’t help the resentment that accompanies the thought, even though he realizes how petty it is. Lee was a witness to Sam’s grief at the loss of his wife, saw the way he crumbled and scattered in a way that Lee had wished he’d been allowed. He has to hope that Sam has been allowed to see her, can only hope she’s seen a friendly face.
“Kara,” he says in a rough voice, wonders for a split second if that’s all he’ll ever be able to say in her presence before he clears his throat and tries again. “I came as soon as I could. I surrendered my commission before you. . . I was only allowed to see you to serve as your legal counsel.”
She squints at him, then barks out a humorless laugh.
“Legal counsel? Guess that explains the suit.” As she speaks, she unfolds her body from the cot and stands, takes three steps until she’s right there in front of him. “What the frak is going on around here, Lee?”
What does she want him to say? She died, and everything turned upside down. People fell apart in ways he never would have imagined and when they picked themselves back up, they were different. Sam had tried to become her, a pilot and a drunk and more if the rumors were true. Lee had tried to become someone new, had left behind his career and his family and everything else he thought he’d believed in before. And where some things were completely different, life had rewound in other ways. Laura was dying again, Baltar was free, and he and his father weren’t speaking.
It’s an overwhelming list of ways her death frakked them all, but right now, with her standing there in front of him with that pissed-off look on her bruised face, none of it seems worth talking about.
He reaches out, hesitates for just a moment before lightly cupping her chin and brushing his thumb across the bloom of her cheek.
“Are you okay?”
She ducks her chin, and he lets his hand drop back to his side.
“Not everyone has been happy to see me.” She cocks an eyebrow and shrugs.
It’s a quintessential Kara-move and Lee feels a flash of anger. Easy for her to be nonchalant. Easy for her to have a thorn in her paw about the details of her homecoming when she wasn’t the one that got left behind. He feels his jaw clench, knows she sees it by the way her eyes flick down, then to the side. She sighs and backs away from him.
“Right.”
He hears the defeat in her voice and just like that, his anger is gone. All this stilted small talk, all this distance, it’s frakking ridiculous. He’s tired of this dance, tired of pushing at her until she pushes back. He just wants to touch her again, hold her and feel her and know she’s there. Lee follows her retreat, waits as she sits back down on the cot and then sits beside her. He spreads his legs until his knee touches hers, turns his head and watches her until she relaxes her shoulders and presses her knee back into his.
Lee takes a deep breath and when he speaks, he can’t stop the ache from edging into his voice. “I saw your Viper explode, Kara. What the hell happened to you out there?”
She glances at him, sucks the corner of her bottom lip in and bites down for a second before letting out an audible breath. “Are you asking as my friend or as my counsel?”
He wonders if it matters, if it will change her answer. I’m asking as someone who’s so frakking happy to see you breathing. As someone who loves you and is tired of pretending otherwise.
“Both.”
Kara nods, then angles her body so she’s facing him more fully, so she can look him straight in the eye.
“It’s complicated. I was. . . I don’t know. Not conscious, like I was dreaming but I wasn’t asleep. I don’t know how long I was like that but then suddenly everything was solid and real again. I was back in the sky and I just knew. It was like some safe place that had been hidden inside of me all along was unlocked, and I knew things.”
Like a Cylon. Like Boomer, who went on a mission and came back with the knowledge she was supposed to kill his father.
Lee knows she isn’t telling him everything, but he doesn’t think she’s lying either. The explanation sounds a little rote, like she’s said it before and he guesses she probably has in the days they’ve had her here, locked and chained. But there’s also an earnest sort of awe to her voice, relaxed and a little distant in a way recognizes from before, when he was trapped in a Viper and watching her fly into the storm. When she was back again, and telling him everything was going to be ok.
He wonders if she still believes that.
“You said you can take us to Earth.”
She reaches over and grabs his hands, her face blooming into the first genuine smile he’s seen since her Viper flew into formation next to his. “Yes.”
Lee can’t resist smiling back. His thumbs trace over her knuckles, back and forth for several long moments as he just looks at her.
The beeping of his watch, signaling the last minutes of the time he’s been allotted alone with her, breaks the spell. Kara pulls her hands away from his and all Lee can think is that there wasn’t enough time. He wants to give in to the part of him that is screaming in protest, the part that wants to grab her hands and pull them back, keep on pulling until she’s flush against his body and locked in his arms. The thought of leaving her again, of not being allowed to watch her move and breathe and speak, is nearly unbearable.
He clenches his hands on his knees, resisting the urge to give in to his panic, and reminds himself why he’s here. There are only minutes left and if he wants to be of any help to her, he has to control himself.
“We’re not on the best of terms, but I’ll talk to the Admiral. He may not listen but he’s your best shot. . .”
Kara interrupts him with a soft snort. She stands up and faces away from him.
“I’m no attorney, but I wouldn’t count on the Old Man helping to bust me out.” Her voice is as tight as her shoulders and she doesn’t have to say anything else for him to know who bruised her face. He feels the familiar bloom of rage, hot and thick in his chest, threatening to rise up and choke him. His hands clench into fists in his lap, knuckles going white with the strain but he forces them to relax. Lee can’t afford it right now, doesn’t have time for it. He has a job to do for her. It’s the most important job he’s ever had.
Lee stands up. “At the very least they need to formally charge you with something. We can’t fight charges that don’t even exist.”
She nods and spins back around, her gaze drawn to something over his shoulder for a split second before her eyes land on him again. She closes the distance between them and when she stops moving he can hear the guard approaching.
“I know it sounds insane, Lee. I know that. But I need you to trust me. I need you to be my friend.”
The marine guard clears his throat and rattles his keys. Lee ignores the intrusion, grabs her elbow and slides his hand down her forearm in silent acknowledgement, eyes never leaving hers. He watches her tongue track out over her lips, a quick nervous flick, and then she leans her body into his. “I. . . I missed you,” she whispers, then pulls away while he’s still reeling with the feeling of her, the familiar admission that means more than it should.
“Time’s up. You need to exit the cell right now, Mr. Adama.” The unfamiliar marine swings open the door and steps inside
Lee shakes his head, but he knows better than to push his luck if he ever wants to be allowed back. He grabs his unopened case from the chair and leaves the cell.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Kara.”
She nods, and he turns away, not sure he can make himself leave if he looks at her one moment more. He’s almost to the hatch of the brig when she calls out to him.
“Lee. Aren’t you going to ask?”
He turns and glances at the impassive face of the guard, then looks at her. She’s staring him down, daring him to ask the question that’s on everyone’s mind. He wonders if she even has an answer, if she knows what she is and if she’d tell him even if she did.
“It doesn’t matter, Kara.” I . . . you died and you took a part of me with you. Whatever you are now, you’re Kara. You’re back and I don’t feel as empty anymore. “If you say I can trust you, that’s all I need.”
She snorts. “Some lawyer you make.” But her voice is as warm as her smile and Lee gets the impression he just passed a test he’s been taking since the day he first met her.
*
His new quarters on the Helion Traveler are larger than he’s used to, and also largely empty. Once he surrendered his military gear, he wasn’t left with much of his own but he isn’t going to complain. Lee knows he was lucky to get a place to himself considering the situation in the fleet since the Exodus from New Caprica and the loss of the Pegasus. He owes Romo Lampkin a favor in return someday, and he isn’t looking forward to the day he has to pay up. Lampkin has a way of asking more of him than Lee cares to give.
He’s sitting at the desk in the front room of the small suite, poring over his grandfather’s books and putting together a petition for Kara’s release. As she’d predicted, the Admiral had refused to discuss her imprisonment with him and he was left trying to put together a legal argument that might force his father and the President to at least charge her with a crime.
An urgent rap on the outer door makes Lee drop his pen. He stands and reaches the door in four strides, a bad feeling settling in the pit of his stomach at the continued knocking. No one has visited him here in the short time he’s been in residence; not many people even know where he is.
He opens the door to find an unfamiliar man who looks to be a few years younger than him. The man nods at him but doesn’t smile.
“Mr. Adama, my name is Spencer Thelos. Mr. Lampkin sent me. It’s about Captain Thrace. May I come in?”
The knot in his stomach turns to lead and Lee steps back and gestures Spencer inside. He pushes the door closed again with more force than necessary and spins back toward the stranger.
“What about Captain Thrace?” His voice is hard, demanding. Something is definitely wrong. Lampkin wouldn’t be getting involved if it wasn’t serious, and it is all Lee can do to hold back the terror that is threatening to overwhelm him.
“There was an incident on Galactica earlier this afternoon. During an interrogation of Captain Thrace, President Roslin ordered the marine guard to put the Captain out of an airlock. . .”
Lee feels himself choke on the air in his lungs, feels his control crumble as his face contorts. He reaches out blindly with one arm, feels his hand connect with the wall as if from a distance. There’s a ringing in his ears, cutting everything out but the constant replay of her name, running circles in his head.
Spencer pauses in his explanation, a look of concern passing over his features and he reaches out to put a bracing hand on Lee’s shoulder. Lee hears Spencer calling his name and he struggles to focus, forces his eyes back to Spencer’s, forces himself to take a breath and refocus on what Spencer is saying.
“The Captain is safe for now, Mr. Adama. I’m sorry; I should have started with that information. Captain Thrace escaped and has been hidden on the Astral Queen.”
The relief that floods his body collides with what’s left of the panic and for one second he’s unsteady, the intensity of his emotions making his heart pound hard in his chest and his lungs ache with the effort to breath. Lee manages to nod at Spencer, then uses every ounce of his military training to compose his face and body, to push everything but the mission aside. He stalks back to his desk, every step more controlled than the last. When he opens a drawer and pulls out the black market gun he’d acquired the first day after Kara’s return and his forced removal from Galactica, his hands are steady. He moves into his bedroom and opens the small closet, grabs two clips from the shelf and a jacket from a hanger. The gun goes in the waistband of his jeans and he slips on the jacket, stows the extra rounds in the pockets as he walks back into the outer room to join Spencer.
The man starts talking, voice low, as they exit Lee’s quarters. “There is an interfleet shuttle waiting in the bay for you. Once we board we will need to make several stops before you reach the Astral Queen. We will disguise your destination as best we can to prevent leading the marines to Captain Thrace. Mr. Lampkin has arranged for the flight logs to be altered, and I’ll be stopping on The Rising Star under your name.”
Lee nods. It isn’t a perfect plan, but it’s the best they’re going to do on short notice. The general lack of resources for civilian forces and the natural distrust of the military should buy them a good amount of time to cover Kara’s trail. With any luck she should be able to hide in the fleet until his father and Roslin come to their frakking senses.
His mind flickers to an image of Roslin ordering Kara’s execution, of Kara being pulled out into the cold blackness of space to die alone. Lee grits his teeth, jaw flexing as he trades the leaden knot of sickness in his stomach for colder, heavier rage. He used to respect Laura Roslin more than anyone else in the fleet, maybe even more than his father. This war has changed them all, he knows, but he wonders exactly when Roslin became a tyrant. And now that his mind is functioning again, he wonders how Kara managed to avoid the airlock. He’s never doubted that Starbuck could fight herself out of the tightest of situations, but he still has a frakload of questions.
He checks the corridor, makes sure that no one is close enough to overhear them, and asks the most obvious one.
“How’d she escape?”
Spencer glances at him briefly. “All I have is third-hand information but it appears that her husband was there when it happened and that he pulled his weapon on President Roslin. Captain Thrace was taken off-ship and then smuggled onto the Astral Queen with Vice President Zarek’s aid.”
Tom Zarek. His involvement doesn’t surprise Lee as much as it probably should, given his attempts at legitimacy over the past year. But he’s been strangely quiet since handing over the presidency to Roslin, and Lee is immediately grateful for Zarek’s help, even if he isn’t naïve enough to completely trust him or his motives. In any case, Zarek’s aid doesn’t explain how Kara escaped from a military ship without being tracked.
Lee waits to ask until they’ve cleared the residential area and are making their way through the open commons of the Traveler, he and Spencer keeping close to the wall and avoiding the other passengers with as wide a berth as possible. “How the frak did they manage to get her off Galactica?”
Spencer slows, hesitates for a beat and then meets Lee’s gaze with an almost naked look of hope on his face that is in stark contrast to the efficient, business-like presence he’s maintained. “The rumor making fleet rounds is that Captain Thrace knows the way to Earth. Is that true?”
For a moment Lee is surprised. He’s been entirely consumed with Kara’s return, the fact that she’s alive when she’s supposed to be dead, that he hasn’t given very much thought to her promise to lead them to Earth. It hits him then, how important her survival is not only to him, but to the entire fleet.
“Yes. It’s true”
Spencer smiles then, and it’s brief, a measured but genuine expression before he turns serious once again.
“Then I suspect there are those even on Galactica who want to make sure she survives.”
*
Lee disembarks on the Astral Queen two hours later, restless and frustrated with the delay. Zarek greets him personally and, as if sensing his impatience, immediately leads him to the guard quarters. He doesn’t stop until he reaches a nondescript hatch halfway down a long corridor.
“She’s in here. We can probably keep her hidden through the first round of ship-to-ship searches, but you shouldn’t stay long. A few hours, maybe less before they start looking for you too.”
Lee’s eyes are hard and uncompromising as they meet Zarek’s. “They can look for me all they want. I’m not leaving her.”
Zarek’s lips pull into the small, politician smile he’s perfected. It’s a look of placating diplomacy, but he nods and backs away and at the moment, it’s enough.
“Work it out with Starbuck and then let me know what you plan to do.”
Lee doesn’t answer, turns back to the hatch and hears Zarek retreat as he spins the wheel.
The interior of the cabin is dim, lit only by the safety track around the perimeter and stray light coming from the adjacent head. He scans the small room, thinks for a second that she must be in the head until he catches a glimpse of blond hair against the wall on the other side of the bunk. He feels some of the tension inside him unwind at the sight of her, at the evidence that she’s still alive.
“Kara, it’s me.” He steps further into the room and dogs the hatch behind him. She doesn’t answer so he moves toward her, concern growing once again at the silence and the way she’s sitting on the floor, wedged against wall and bunk. She’s in a ball, forehead resting on the arms that are hugging her knees to her chest and when he reaches her he drops into a crouch, reaches out to lightly touch her arm.
“Are you okay?” It’s a stupid question to ask because no matter how dark it is he’d have to be blind not to see that she’s not all right. She’s collapsed in on herself, balled up on a cold hard floor in the virtual dark and now that he’s close to her he can hear how ragged her breathing is. The only other time he’s seen her like this was the night he found out Zak was dead and it terrifies him because he needs her to be strong. He needs to believe that she’s fine.
“Kara, I need you to tell me what the hell happened on Galactica.” This time when he speaks, he adds a note of command.
She doesn’t look at him, but finally she responds, her voice slightly muffled by her arms.
“Frak, Lee. Roslin was going to vent me.” She snorts and shrugs. “I’ve seen her do it before, but I thought. . .I thought they’d come around, that everything would be fine in the end but if it hadn’t been for Sam, I. . . Frak me.” Her voice is shaky by the end and Lee has to close his eyes against the sudden, vivid image of her body floating through space. He takes a deep breath and forces his eyes open again.
“Kara. . . ” he begins, trying to soothe her, trying to get her to unfold and open up to him.
She cuts him off, speaks again in a voice laced with resignation, with despair. “They’re never going to trust me, are they? We’re going to be stuck on these ships until the Cylons blow us all away and there’s not a frakking thing I can do about it.”
She starts laughing, high and sour, and finally lifts her head and tilts her face toward him. What there is of the light catches it, illuminates the paleness of her skin and the blood that’s matted in the hair at her temple and streaked down her neck. His heart slams into his throat as he sees the dark splotch spread across the front of her tanks and he all he can see is red, of blood and loss and a rage that has simmered inside him since the moment he heard her surrender to death in her Viper.
Lee makes a noise, a cross between her name and something incoherent, animal and frantic. He reaches out and touches her face, sweeps his fingers into the bloody mass of hair at her temple and searches for the source of all of it. He can hear her saying something, feels her hands pushing at his but he doesn’t listen, grabs her wrist with his free hand and holds it away as he moves from her temple down her neck, fingers probing as they follow the trail of dried blood.
“Lee. Lee. It’s not mine. Sam killed the Marine who was trying to shove me out the airlock.”
He can’t find it, can’t find the source, and when she stops trying to pull free and goes still, his eyes fly back to her face.
“Lee, stop. Did you hear me? It’s not my blood.”
He hauls her to her feet, hands clasped tight around her biceps as he pulls her into the head where he can see her, where he can make sure. He lets go of one arm, barely notices the smear of blood his hand has left as he turns her head and checks it again. When he’s convinced she isn’t bleeding there he reaches down and pulls her tanks off with one quick tug at the hem. The blood on her torso is already dry, already flaking off and he can finally believe that she isn’t hurt.
The part of his brain that is still rational knows he can relax now, knowing she isn’t hurt, but everything else in him is screaming that he almost lost her again. He was sitting in his civilian cabin on his civilian ship, writing up a frakking legal argument based on a dead system of justice while Kara almost died and left him alone again. Lee can’t think beyond it, can’t forgive himself for not being there to save her, can’t forgive her for needing to be saved.
“Lee,” she starts again in that soft, calming tone and Lee doesn’t want to frakking hear it. He doesn’t want to be soothed. What he wants, what he wants. . .
Lee wants too much when it comes to Kara, he always has, but right now he’ll start with shutting her up.
He grabs the back of her neck, slants his mouth over hers and takes advantage of her parted lips to lick his tongue inside. It’s desperate, too hard, and his teeth scrape against her bottom lip. She doesn’t stop him though, doesn’t push him away, and by the time his free hand has found her waist she’s pulling him closer, fingers digging into his shoulders hard enough to bruise.
He doesn’t care, not when she tastes this good, not when she feels so alive against him. Now that he’s sure she isn’t going anywhere he loosens his grip on her neck, drags his hand over her shoulder and down her torso, feels her skin stutter under his palm. Her heart is pounding hard enough that he can feel it and Lee lets his hand rest there for several long seconds, lets the beat of it calm him where her reassurances couldn’t.
He pulls away from her mouth, just a fraction, just enough to take a breath but Kara makes a frustrated sound in her throat and follows his retreat. Her tongue flicks against his upper lip, once, twice, and he groans, captures her mouth again. Kara arches into him as he palms her breast and he takes it as encouragement, swipes his thumb over the cotton-covered nipple with enough pressure to bring it to a straining bud.
“Lee,” she moans, her voice tight with a need that matches his own, and it’s like something inside him has been waiting for this since he saw her again, waiting for some sign, some acknowledgment that Kara might need him a fraction as much as he needs her.
Her hands drag over his chest, and she pushes his jacket off his shoulders, makes him let go of her long enough to let it fall to the ground and then one of her hands is pulling the gun out of his waistband and setting it in the sink with a clatter as her other hand yanks his t-shirt out of his pants.
Lee pulls out of her reach, and she makes a noise of protest. He looks at her, his eyes sweeping over her face and her torso and she’s covered in someone else’s blood but she’s beautiful to him. The curve of her breast, the striation of her ribs, the dip of her waist. It’s the same, it’s Kara, and Lee’s body is heavy and hard with recognition.
He wraps a hand around her waist, pulls her to him again, rests his forehead against hers. He knows his head isn’t on straight, knows every emotion he’s ever felt for her, because of her, is too close to the surface. He also knows it doesn’t matter, that what he is about to tell her is absolute truth. Maybe he’ll regret it later, but right now he’s walking a tightrope of fear and rage and a love he stopped trying to deny a long time ago.
Kara touches her fingers to his chest, slides a palm over his heart.
“I love you, Kara, and I don’t care anymore.” His voice is quiet, cracked. He doesn’t care, he doesn’t care about any of the things that used to complicate everything when it came to the two of them. He needs her to know. “I don’t care if you stay married to Anders. I need you. I can’t lose you, Kara. I won’t survive it again.”
He can hear her breathing in the aftermath of his confession, of his plea. She’s completely still except for her breath and for a second he wonders if she’s going to run. Wonders if she’d rather be in an actual prison than be trapped by the weight of what he feels for her. Then she slides her hands under his shirt and pulls it up, over his head, and when it’s off and he can see her again, she’s looking at him with clear, calm eyes.
“I love you, too. I need you too.”
*
The bunk is narrow and the sheets are coarse, and as Lee watches Kara’s eyelids flutter as she sleeps and dreams, he wonders if he’ll ever get to make love to her somewhere comfortable.
Not that it matters, not when her shower-damp hair is spread across his arm and the pillow and his body is still warm and relaxed in the aftermath of their reunion. Not when she’d let him wash her hair and body clean of the blood and dirt, then let him lay her down, let him make his claim on her body and convince himself in one more way that she was really alive.
Lee feels his leg start to cramp and he shifts as gently as possible, trying not to disturb Kara’s rest. She has dark circles under her eyes, evidence of the stress of her confinement, and he doubts anything about her stolen freedom will be any more restful in the days, maybe weeks to come. Staying hidden in the fleet will be a challenge, and though it’s been done before, he knows that his father won’t forget the devastating consequences. Lee also knows that this escape, these refugees, will be more personal than Gina Envierre’s.
Just as he settles into a more comfortable position, Kara’s eyes blink open. He waits to see panic, or regret, but all he can find reflected in her gaze is a sleepy warmth. Lee lets himself relax again.
“Hi,” he murmurs, cups her cheek and brushes his lips over her forehead.
Kara makes a low sound of contentment in her throat. “Hi yourself.” Her head lifts off his shoulder and she gazes around the room, looking for something, then drops back down. “How long was I asleep?”
Lee runs his hand down her side until his hand rests on her hip. “Not very long.” Not long enough.
She chuckles at the disapproving tone of his voice and he considers himself lucky that she hasn’t decked him for being a paternalistic ass. “Long enough to dream.”
He smiles back. “Good ones?”
Kara nods but doesn’t fill in the blanks. She closes her eyes and sighs and he can see the weight settling back on her shoulders. When she looks at him again, her eyes are serious, regretful. “You should probably go,” she says, sitting up as she speaks.
Lee feels a flash of anger, follows her up. “I told you I’m not leaving you, Kara.”
She rolls her eyes and he wants to snarl, wants to lash out at her for lulling him into believing she wanted him as much as he wants her, for refusing to let him stand by her side. Then she’s leaning forward and kissing him, soft, wet pulls against his lips that chase all other thought away.
When she pulls away, she grabs his hand. Lee watches her face, watches a play of emotion cross her features as she worries her bottom lip with her teeth. And then she decides something. He can see it wash over her, the strength and confidence that are synonymous with her in his head.
“Do you remember the tomb? Standing in the circle of the Gods, looking up at the sky and knowing that the ground under our feet was Earth?”
Lee remembers, everything about it standing out with a sharp clarity in his memory: the dew damp scent of the grass, the crisp freshness of the air, the way Kara sparkled brighter than the constellations overhead.
“I remember.”
Kara nods and takes another breath. And then she opens to him, her voice hesitant and a little distant, like what she is relating is more than a memory, is more like a confession.
“I remember being there. Not just back on Kobol but when I was . . . when I was gone. I was there and I could see everything but it was all broken down, like one of those old paintings made up of little dots of color. I could see the way everything fit together, even the stars. Especially the stars.”
This is the information everyone has been wanting, waiting for, especially Lee. From the moment Kara appeared again, flying beside him with this same calm, reassuring expression on her face that is so new to her. From the second she told him everything was going to be okay, that she was going to take everyone to Earth.
Lee doesn’t know what to think. It seems so intangible, so unreal. He knows his doubt is showing on his face, can tell by the answering flicker in her eyes, but she doesn’t look away.
“How do you know, Kara? How do you know what you see is the way to Earth? What if you were captured? What if it was the Cylons?” Lee has a dozen other unspoken questions, most of them centering around the possibility that she’s a Cylon herself. He doesn’t ask if she’s considered that it’s her own programming, a trap.
She glances up the ceiling and her shoulders drop, just a fraction, starts to pull her hand away. Lee doesn’t know what to think but he knows he doesn’t want her to retreat. He knows he wants her to help him understand. This newfound openness between them isn’t something he’s going to let go of without a fight. He grabs her hand and pulls it back, twines their fingers together.
“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand.”
“You think I don’t know how insane this all is? I’m the one with the missing months and the special destiny here. It’s just. . . I know I’m right the same way I know that the Gods are out there, guiding us. Guiding me. The same way that I know that one day I’m going to stand on Earth again and you’re going to be standing beside me. I have faith” She shrugs, and then starts to smile. “I just frakkin’ believe, Lee.”
Lee doesn’t believe in the Gods, not the way Kara does. But in this moment, he knows without a doubt that he believes in Kara Thrace. He leans forward, uses his free hand to cup her face. He keeps his eyes open as he kisses her, wills her to see his faith.
“I love you,” he whispers against her lips as they break apart.
Kara licks her lips and nods. She hesitates.
“About Sam . . . ,” her voice breaks on his name and she glances down to where their fingers are twined together before finding his eyes again. Lee fights the urge to pull away. He doesn’t want to lose this comfortable peace between them by talking about her marriage, not yet.
“I love him, and he saved my ass back there. He’s going to be tried for treason and murder because of me and I will never forget that. I will never forgive myself for that. But we’re over. It’s one of the things we were talking about when. . .” Kara stops and takes in a shuddering breath, then shakes her head.
Her admission surprises him but what surprises him more is that the joy he feels is muted, tainted by the circumstances. She's his now, as much as she ever belongs to anyone but herself, and as happy as it makes him, he knows that this wasn't a competition and there are no winners. He thinks of Sam, confined to the brig and likely headed to his own execution for saving the woman both of them love. He shifts and pulls Kara until she settles in his lap, wraps his arms around her and kisses her shoulder, her neck.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, a whisper in the hair behind her ear.
She lets him hold her for several long minutes and he closes his eyes, lets himself feel the exhaustion he’s been holding back for days. The rollercoaster of emotion he’s felt in the past few hours catches up with him and he feels a sharp sting behind his eyelids and a pounding in his temples.
It takes him a moment to realize the pounding is timed almost perfectly with a light rapping on the hatch of the cabin.
Kara sits up and turns to face him. “Lee. I know you think you need to stay with me, but what I really need is you out there in the fleet, able to move around in the open. You have got to go back before you give the Admiral and Roslin reason to charge you with helping me. Please.”
He frowns at her. “No, Kara. I’m not leaving you alone. I’m a big boy. I can handle the consequences. . .”
“Frak, Lee, shut up for a minute and listen to me. I have a plan, and you should know by now I come up with some frakking amazing plans. I know you resigned, but can you just be a good soldier and do what I’m asking here, Apollo?”
Lee studies her face, the raised brow and the annoyed wrinkle in her forehead. There’s a reckless, confident glint in her eye that is all Starbuck and he feels himself giving in despite the way his heart is screaming at him to refuse.
She can see it too, can tell she’s won because her face relaxes and she smiles, kisses him again so thoroughly that he knows it’s goodbye.
*
The visit from the marines comes within an hour of his return to the Helion Traveler. His hair is still wet from the shower that washed the scent of them away from his body, and he’s still frustrated at having to leave, terrified for her safety. The barely controlled emotions make it easy for him to pretend he doesn’t know what the marines are talking about, and he follows their visit with a phone call to his father, demanding to know what the frak is happening under his command. He doesn’t have to fake the fury he feels at the Admiral for his complicity in Kara’s near-execution, intentional or not.
Lee plays this first part in Kara’s plan with the taste and feel of her fresh in his senses, with the “I love you” she spoke at his departure ringing in his ears.
He knows it is only the beginning.