Fic: Another Day Just Like the Last
Title: Another Day Just Like the Last
Pairing: Gaeta/Barolay
Rating: PG
Summary: New Caprica isn't what it promised to be.
Author’s Notes: Many thanks to my excellent beta trovia, who kicked this thing’s ass and called me out on stuff that really needed it. Sorry it took me six months to actually act on it!
“Look, I’ll talk to him, ok?”
“Godsdammit, Felix,” Jean said angrily, throwing the pillow onto the newly made bed and turning to face the man in front of her.
She watched Felix visibly brace for a fight, crossing his arms and not quite meeting her eyes. “What?” he asked defensively, even though they both knew he knew exactly what Jean was talking about.
“You’ll talk to him. You say that every time. When are your little talks actually going to have a result?”
“Jean, I’m doing everything I can short of putting the pen in his hand and helping him sign his name.”
“Well, maybe you should try that, then!”
Jean glared at Felix, and he stared right back. She knew that he was just as concerned with the union contract as she was, but unlike her, he actually worked with the damn president, and she wasn’t in the mood to cut him any slack. A month ago, yes. Two weeks ago, grudgingly. But this had hit the point of being completely absurd, and she was frakking sick of excuses. After a few moments of silence he looked away and said, “I have to go. I’m going to be late.”
“Yeah, heaven forbid you miss five minutes of not getting anything done.”
He looked hurt, and she didn’t care. Let him be sensitive. It wasn’t her fault he wasn’t doing his damn job. Felix nodded curtly and ducked out of the tent, leaving her alone.
So now he was mad. Good.
How the hell had Felix happened, anyway? Founder’s Day. The sun had been bright, the air almost warm, and everyone had been caught up in the excitement of having a new home, a safe place to start over. She’d been with Sam and Kara, and he’d been with Dee and Lee, and somehow it had only seemed natural, when the two groups converged, that they would gravitate towards each other.
She hadn’t expected anything more, and yet somehow they had become… Jean didn’t know. Something.
And right now, Jean was annoyed as hell at him.
Irritably, she pulled on her jacket. Just the act of pushing the flap aside had let in a cold breeze that chilled the entire tent.
Gods, what a frakking ridiculous planet they had settled on. She’d thought that anything would be better than the hell of Caprica, the constant fear, the constant fighting. And if she were honest, yes, life on New Caprica was an improvement from that. There were no Cylons here, and that alone pushed it over the top.
Still, in a perverse way, she almost preferred the resistance. At least then, every day was a chance to strike, every act had purpose. The fighters hadn’t had much, but what they did they shared; they protected each other, looked out for each other, because if they didn’t, then they were all dead.
New Caprica, though… it was frustrating. The government was a joke, and while that was nothing new, it was actively preventing anything from getting done. Or maybe inactively was the better word- the word that summed up the Baltar administration.
And the really stupid thing was that Jean had voted for him. Arriving on Galactica to find that the election was hinging on the fable of Earth? It had killed her how many people believed it, that there was this mystical utopian planet of the gods that only some admiral and the former secretary of education knew the secret path to. All around her, people had offered praise to the heavens, citing their rescue from Caprica as another sign that the gods were watching over humanity. Jean had cheerfully called them all idiots and cast her ballot for Baltar.
Whatever. She couldn’t change it now. Jean packed up her athletic bag and stepped out into the settlement.
A group of children nearly ran her down and she stumbled back. One turned, calling a quick "Sorry!" over his shoulder before scurrying to catch up with his classmates as they laughed and pushed their way to school.
Jean watched them go with something like envy. They had a place to be, something productive to do. The union and the government were at a stalemate, and only so many jobs were available until an agreement was reached. All it would take was two frakking signatures- Tyrol’s and Baltar’s- and construction could begin on building proper housing in New Caprica City. But Baltar was being perverse about the union’s simple demands, or Tyrol was refusing to acknowledge reality and come to a reasonable compromise, or whatever the current propaganda was. All it really meant was that Jean and hundreds of others had no work.
So she headed to the Pyramid court. There at least she could be doing something.
Sam was just getting a game started and he grinned when he saw her. “Jean! Excellent. Now we have even numbers.” He turned and smiled at a dark-haired woman Jean had seen around the settlement the past few days. “Diana, you can play on my team, alright?” The woman lit up and came into the playing area as Jean took up her normal position towards the back of the court.
The game began, and Jean let herself get lost in the aggressive rhythm of play. The new girl on Sam’s team couldn’t shoot for shit, but she was quick and knew when to pass the ball to someone else in scoring position. Jean’s team was quickly put on the defensive, and they adjusted their strategy and eventually forced Sam’s players into the weaker position. They played for hours, sweat pouring down their faces despite the chill. Blood pumping and adrenaline flowing, she lost herself to the rush of competition.
Two games later- the first resulting in her team getting thoroughly crushed, the second with a last-minute victory due to a magnificently well-time maneuver by Duck- and they all parted ways, agreeing to meet up again for another round tomorrow.
Jean was dirty, bloody, and bruised, and she reveled in it. She was going to be sore in the morning from hitting the ground so many times, but she didn’t care. She’d gotten out most of her pent-up anger, but already she could feel it building back up again as reality returned. Throwing her bag over her shoulder, Jean made her way to the public showers.
The water smelled of iron and sulfur, and she washed her hair with the same soap she used to scrub her body. But the cascade was warm for once, and she allowed herself a few guilty minutes of just standing under the spray before turning the dials to off. She dried herself off as best she could and pulled on her last set of clean clothes. Her hair was still wet, but as blowdryers had hardly been a top priority in the fight against the toasters, she would just have to deal with it. Bracing herself for the cold, she stepped back outside to another day of wandering aimlessly through the settlement.
***
Jean didn’t answer when Felix called her name from outside her tent, and didn’t look up when he pulled the flap aside and cautiously glanced in. She kept her eyes down on the book she’d borrowed from Nora and heard him clear his throat.
“I just wanted to tell you I convinced the president to sit down with Tyrol tomorrow.”
At that she finally looked at him, but her expression didn’t change. He stood there for a moment, waiting for her to respond, and when she didn’t Felix sighed.
“Just thought you’d want to know,” he muttered, turning to leave.
“Is this meeting gonna be any more useful than the last one?”
She’d been trying to get a rise out of him, but instead he looked away. “I don’t know,” he answered softly.
Jean studied him, the defensive set of his shoulders, the frustration that was clear on his face. “Come in,” she finally said.
He looked surprised but moved all the way into the tent, taking a seat across from her at the little table. They sat unspeaking for a minute before Jean finally broke the silence. “The union isn’t asking for all that much.”
“I know.”
“I mean, have you told him-”
“Yes, Jean,” Felix cut her off sharply. “I’ve told him. Tyrol’s told him. Zarek’s told him. He knows.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know.” He took a deep breath, and Jean was torn between sympathy and exasperation at the helplessness in his voice. “I saw Cally today, and she started in on me. I didn’t know what to tell her. I’m chief of staff, people are supposed to be able to come to me and see results, and-” He abruptly stopped talking and stared at the floor.
Jean leaned forward, setting her book down still open to mark her page. “In a few months she’s gonna have a kid to take care of. Lots of people are.”
Felix nodded. “I know.” Of course he knew, everyone knew. When New Caprica had still been new and full of potential, everyone with any inclination for a family had gotten right to it, and it had been exciting, at first, to think of all the new life that was being brought to the planet. He sighed again. “I didn’t expect this to be easy, but I thought it would be… easier than this.”
She watched as he ran a hand over his face. Part of her wanted to comfort him, and the other wanted to yell at him to fight harder, to do his damn job, to make this work. Before she could decide which of these impulses was stronger, he stood.
“Anyway, I should go. I have an early morning. I had to rearrange Baltar’s entire schedule to get Tyrol in, and I’m sure the People’s Council are going to be on me about why they’ve been pushed back.”
“Ok,” Jean said. But she couldn’t let him go with just that, so she added, “I’ll see you later.”
He met her eyes, and he gave her the hint of something like a smile. “Bye.”
Felix left, and Jean tried to keep reading, but gave up when she realized she’d gotten five pages and had no idea what any of it said. Though she wasn’t nearly tired enough, she got ready for bed.
On Caprica, she’d spent nine months fighting a doomed battle, risking her life for a victory she knew didn’t exist. And now there was a future again, now she had a chance to actually live a real life, and she was prevented from doing anything with it by governmental bureaucratic power-battle bullshit. It was ridiculous. New Caprica was supposed to be a brand-new start.
Yeah. And Cylons were supposed to be mankind’s greatest achievement. What was that saying about the best laid plans?
She lay in bed for hours, unsleeping, wondering what the hell was wrong with the world.
Pairing: Gaeta/Barolay
Rating: PG
Summary: New Caprica isn't what it promised to be.
Author’s Notes: Many thanks to my excellent beta trovia, who kicked this thing’s ass and called me out on stuff that really needed it. Sorry it took me six months to actually act on it!
“Look, I’ll talk to him, ok?”
“Godsdammit, Felix,” Jean said angrily, throwing the pillow onto the newly made bed and turning to face the man in front of her.
She watched Felix visibly brace for a fight, crossing his arms and not quite meeting her eyes. “What?” he asked defensively, even though they both knew he knew exactly what Jean was talking about.
“You’ll talk to him. You say that every time. When are your little talks actually going to have a result?”
“Jean, I’m doing everything I can short of putting the pen in his hand and helping him sign his name.”
“Well, maybe you should try that, then!”
Jean glared at Felix, and he stared right back. She knew that he was just as concerned with the union contract as she was, but unlike her, he actually worked with the damn president, and she wasn’t in the mood to cut him any slack. A month ago, yes. Two weeks ago, grudgingly. But this had hit the point of being completely absurd, and she was frakking sick of excuses. After a few moments of silence he looked away and said, “I have to go. I’m going to be late.”
“Yeah, heaven forbid you miss five minutes of not getting anything done.”
He looked hurt, and she didn’t care. Let him be sensitive. It wasn’t her fault he wasn’t doing his damn job. Felix nodded curtly and ducked out of the tent, leaving her alone.
So now he was mad. Good.
How the hell had Felix happened, anyway? Founder’s Day. The sun had been bright, the air almost warm, and everyone had been caught up in the excitement of having a new home, a safe place to start over. She’d been with Sam and Kara, and he’d been with Dee and Lee, and somehow it had only seemed natural, when the two groups converged, that they would gravitate towards each other.
She hadn’t expected anything more, and yet somehow they had become… Jean didn’t know. Something.
And right now, Jean was annoyed as hell at him.
Irritably, she pulled on her jacket. Just the act of pushing the flap aside had let in a cold breeze that chilled the entire tent.
Gods, what a frakking ridiculous planet they had settled on. She’d thought that anything would be better than the hell of Caprica, the constant fear, the constant fighting. And if she were honest, yes, life on New Caprica was an improvement from that. There were no Cylons here, and that alone pushed it over the top.
Still, in a perverse way, she almost preferred the resistance. At least then, every day was a chance to strike, every act had purpose. The fighters hadn’t had much, but what they did they shared; they protected each other, looked out for each other, because if they didn’t, then they were all dead.
New Caprica, though… it was frustrating. The government was a joke, and while that was nothing new, it was actively preventing anything from getting done. Or maybe inactively was the better word- the word that summed up the Baltar administration.
And the really stupid thing was that Jean had voted for him. Arriving on Galactica to find that the election was hinging on the fable of Earth? It had killed her how many people believed it, that there was this mystical utopian planet of the gods that only some admiral and the former secretary of education knew the secret path to. All around her, people had offered praise to the heavens, citing their rescue from Caprica as another sign that the gods were watching over humanity. Jean had cheerfully called them all idiots and cast her ballot for Baltar.
Whatever. She couldn’t change it now. Jean packed up her athletic bag and stepped out into the settlement.
A group of children nearly ran her down and she stumbled back. One turned, calling a quick "Sorry!" over his shoulder before scurrying to catch up with his classmates as they laughed and pushed their way to school.
Jean watched them go with something like envy. They had a place to be, something productive to do. The union and the government were at a stalemate, and only so many jobs were available until an agreement was reached. All it would take was two frakking signatures- Tyrol’s and Baltar’s- and construction could begin on building proper housing in New Caprica City. But Baltar was being perverse about the union’s simple demands, or Tyrol was refusing to acknowledge reality and come to a reasonable compromise, or whatever the current propaganda was. All it really meant was that Jean and hundreds of others had no work.
So she headed to the Pyramid court. There at least she could be doing something.
Sam was just getting a game started and he grinned when he saw her. “Jean! Excellent. Now we have even numbers.” He turned and smiled at a dark-haired woman Jean had seen around the settlement the past few days. “Diana, you can play on my team, alright?” The woman lit up and came into the playing area as Jean took up her normal position towards the back of the court.
The game began, and Jean let herself get lost in the aggressive rhythm of play. The new girl on Sam’s team couldn’t shoot for shit, but she was quick and knew when to pass the ball to someone else in scoring position. Jean’s team was quickly put on the defensive, and they adjusted their strategy and eventually forced Sam’s players into the weaker position. They played for hours, sweat pouring down their faces despite the chill. Blood pumping and adrenaline flowing, she lost herself to the rush of competition.
Two games later- the first resulting in her team getting thoroughly crushed, the second with a last-minute victory due to a magnificently well-time maneuver by Duck- and they all parted ways, agreeing to meet up again for another round tomorrow.
Jean was dirty, bloody, and bruised, and she reveled in it. She was going to be sore in the morning from hitting the ground so many times, but she didn’t care. She’d gotten out most of her pent-up anger, but already she could feel it building back up again as reality returned. Throwing her bag over her shoulder, Jean made her way to the public showers.
The water smelled of iron and sulfur, and she washed her hair with the same soap she used to scrub her body. But the cascade was warm for once, and she allowed herself a few guilty minutes of just standing under the spray before turning the dials to off. She dried herself off as best she could and pulled on her last set of clean clothes. Her hair was still wet, but as blowdryers had hardly been a top priority in the fight against the toasters, she would just have to deal with it. Bracing herself for the cold, she stepped back outside to another day of wandering aimlessly through the settlement.
***
Jean didn’t answer when Felix called her name from outside her tent, and didn’t look up when he pulled the flap aside and cautiously glanced in. She kept her eyes down on the book she’d borrowed from Nora and heard him clear his throat.
“I just wanted to tell you I convinced the president to sit down with Tyrol tomorrow.”
At that she finally looked at him, but her expression didn’t change. He stood there for a moment, waiting for her to respond, and when she didn’t Felix sighed.
“Just thought you’d want to know,” he muttered, turning to leave.
“Is this meeting gonna be any more useful than the last one?”
She’d been trying to get a rise out of him, but instead he looked away. “I don’t know,” he answered softly.
Jean studied him, the defensive set of his shoulders, the frustration that was clear on his face. “Come in,” she finally said.
He looked surprised but moved all the way into the tent, taking a seat across from her at the little table. They sat unspeaking for a minute before Jean finally broke the silence. “The union isn’t asking for all that much.”
“I know.”
“I mean, have you told him-”
“Yes, Jean,” Felix cut her off sharply. “I’ve told him. Tyrol’s told him. Zarek’s told him. He knows.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know.” He took a deep breath, and Jean was torn between sympathy and exasperation at the helplessness in his voice. “I saw Cally today, and she started in on me. I didn’t know what to tell her. I’m chief of staff, people are supposed to be able to come to me and see results, and-” He abruptly stopped talking and stared at the floor.
Jean leaned forward, setting her book down still open to mark her page. “In a few months she’s gonna have a kid to take care of. Lots of people are.”
Felix nodded. “I know.” Of course he knew, everyone knew. When New Caprica had still been new and full of potential, everyone with any inclination for a family had gotten right to it, and it had been exciting, at first, to think of all the new life that was being brought to the planet. He sighed again. “I didn’t expect this to be easy, but I thought it would be… easier than this.”
She watched as he ran a hand over his face. Part of her wanted to comfort him, and the other wanted to yell at him to fight harder, to do his damn job, to make this work. Before she could decide which of these impulses was stronger, he stood.
“Anyway, I should go. I have an early morning. I had to rearrange Baltar’s entire schedule to get Tyrol in, and I’m sure the People’s Council are going to be on me about why they’ve been pushed back.”
“Ok,” Jean said. But she couldn’t let him go with just that, so she added, “I’ll see you later.”
He met her eyes, and he gave her the hint of something like a smile. “Bye.”
Felix left, and Jean tried to keep reading, but gave up when she realized she’d gotten five pages and had no idea what any of it said. Though she wasn’t nearly tired enough, she got ready for bed.
On Caprica, she’d spent nine months fighting a doomed battle, risking her life for a victory she knew didn’t exist. And now there was a future again, now she had a chance to actually live a real life, and she was prevented from doing anything with it by governmental bureaucratic power-battle bullshit. It was ridiculous. New Caprica was supposed to be a brand-new start.
Yeah. And Cylons were supposed to be mankind’s greatest achievement. What was that saying about the best laid plans?
She lay in bed for hours, unsleeping, wondering what the hell was wrong with the world.