BY YOUR COMMAND - Static ARCHIVE

"Father, please don't make me do this," Apollo said.

"You're overreacting," Adama replied mildly.

"Why are you meddling in my private life?"

"I am NOT meddling. Besides, did it ever occur to you that I might enjoy us having dinner together?"

"Fine. All you need to do is ask, and I'll be happy to join you. But without any Councillors and their daughters!"

Adama sighed. He knew his son would not respond well to this request.

"Apollo," he said, "I need your help. I have some very difficult policy changes before the Council, and your presence at this dinner with Sire Derek and Helena could very well sway him to my side and give me the margin I need."

"Not if I sit at the table belching and eating with my fingers."

Adama ignored the comment. "Besides, I should think it very flattering that this young lady wants to meet you, and the food will certainly be better than anything they're serving down in the mess hall."

Apollo glared at his father for a moment.

"All right," he said. "I'll go. But nothing is going to happen between me and this 'Helena'. Nothing."

"Furthest thing from my mind."

Yeah, I'll bet, Apollo thought.

***

"Hey," Starbuck said, sliding into a chair beside Apollo in the OC, drink in hand.

"Hi," Apollo replied sourly.

"What's the matter?"

"I have a blind date tomorrow night."

Starbuck's eyebrows shot up. "With who?"

"Sire Derek's daughter Helena."

The Lieutenant didn't reply, just tried to read Apollo's expression. "Oh - you're serious," he said. "How did this happen?"

Apollo told him about his father's request.

"But he's lying," Apollo said, towards the end. "He'd like nothing better than for me to get married again. He's still hoping for more grandchildren."

"You ever seen this Helena?"

"No."

"Well, from the looks of Sire Derek, you better hope she's adopted."

"You've got so much class, you know that?"

"Hey, I just call 'em as I see 'em."

Starbuck took a drink.

"So," he said, "What're you gonna do?"

Apollo sighed. "Go to dinner, and stay as far away from her as possible, I guess."

"Yeah, tell her you're taken already, and your lover's the jealous type."

"Are you?" Apollo asked, giving him a sly smile.

Starbuck grinned mischievously back. "You'll find out," he replied.

***

Dress uniform. Fuck, Apollo thought, fiddling with the fussy clothes, shifting uncomfortably in the pilots chair of his father's shuttle.

"Something wrong?" Adama asked.

"Oh, no, nothing. Nothing at all."

"I hope your attitude improves by the time we dock."

"I promise you, Dad, I'll be on my best behaviour in the company of others. When we're alone, however, I reserve the right to be annoyed."

"I never imagined you'd find dinner with a charming young lady so distasteful."

"Why don't you ever do this to Athena? I'm sure some of those Councillors must have charming young sons you could set her up with."

"Your sister has made her position very clear on such matters."

"Well - so did I! Or so I thought." Apollo fumed silently for a moment as the Rising Star grew larger in the viewport. "This is the last time. I mean it, Dad."

"Just think of it as doing your duty for the Fleet."

Apollo looked at his father, a bit horrified by the suggestion, saw Adama grinning, his eyes twinkling. A joke. His father was making a joke.

"Oh, this is going to be so much fun," Apollo muttered, shaking his head.

***

She didn't look at all like Sire Derek. Despite his intense irritation over this whole affair, Apollo had to admit he could do a lot worse for a dinner partner. She had rich brown hair, clipped at the nape of her neck, and wore a simple, shimmering emerald-coloured dress. Her eyes were dark as her hair, she gave Apollo a shy smile when they were introduced.

If only Adama would stop glancing in their direction, this dinner might be tolerable, just two people talking over some very good food. The four of them sat at a long table, Apollo and Adama on one side, facing Helena and Derek respectively, in a private dining room. Soft music played in the background, and the lighting was low, the atmosphere intimate. Adama and the Councillor were soon embroiled in a political discussion, and Apollo caught the bored glance Helena shot her father. Then she blushed, noticing Apollo's gaze.

"Sorry," she said. "That was rude."

"It's all right. Understandable, actually. I feel that way myself, sometimes."

"Yes, it never stops. Councillors constantly trying to out-manoeuvre each other, when really they should only be worried about the Fleet."

Her forthrightness was surprising. But, Apollo thought, she's like me, the jaded younger generation, suspicious of the motives of our elders.

"What are your interests, Helena?" Apollo asked.

"Art," she replied. "Painting. Before the Great Destruction, I was in art school. Now, I just teach myself."

"What school were you at?"

"One right near SSI, the Halen Academy of the Arts."

"I walked past there nearly every day," Apollo said.

"Did you ever go inside?"

"No. Wasn't really my kind of place."

She smiled warmly. "Same with me and Strategic Studies. Our academic populations viewed one another with great distrust."

Apollo returned her smile.

"What do you paint?"

"Oh," Helena answered, "scenes from home, from my memory." She paused. "It's strange, but now I remember Caprica as a place of great beauty, but I know I didn't feel that way when I lived there. I never painted Caprican scenes when I was in art school. Now, it seems to be all I can do, like an obsession."

"We all have ways of dealing with our losses, even if it's subconscious. Perhaps that's just yours."

"I suppose you're right. Everything that's happened to us seems very surreal at times. At least it does to those of us who're merely citizens."

"It seems that way to the soldiers, too," Apollo replied. "I'd like to see your paintings. We don't have too many pictures from home, and I think I've seen all the ones we do have."

"I'd be happy to show them to you, Captain."

"Call me Apollo."

"All right. Apollo," she said, smiling.

***

On the trip back to the Galactica, both Apollo and Adama sat in contemplative silence, both for different reasons. Adama hadn't gotten the firm commitment he was looking for from Derek, and he mulled over in his mind how to next proceed. Apollo was in a kind of shock. Helena's image was burned into his mind. He concentrated, trying to pull up Starbuck's face, but couldn't. His thoughts kept drifting back to this attractive young woman and how easily they had talked. The connection he'd felt between them had been immediate.

Like it had been with Serina.

No, Apollo told himself, it's too soon to know.

"How did you and Helena get along?" Adama asked.

"Fine."

"You seemed to have no trouble talking to one another."

"No, the conversation was fine."

"Good." Pause. "Thank you for accompanying me."

"Did you get what you needed from Sire Derek?"

"That has yet to be determined, I'm afraid."

Back on the Galactica, Apollo made his way wearily to his quarters, looking forward to just going to sleep. By morning, hopefully this emotional confusion would be cleared up - hopefully he could just blame it on the wine.

In his bedroom, he gladly stripped off his dress uniform and got under the covers. He closed his eyes, willing his body to relax, the tension slowly leaving his muscles. His mind, however, remained active, resisting all attempts to quiet it. Finally, he just gave in and let himself think about Helena, deconstructing their evening together.

It was the implicit understanding between them that had captured him. The way she spoke, her intonations and gestures, dry, self-deprecating jokes, no hidden meanings, her every word abundantly clear.

The way she looked at him, kind, but with undeniable strength of character in her gaze.

Gods, she was like Serina, a mix of beauty and intelligence, wit and gravity.

Apollo thought he could fall pretty hard for her if he let himself.

But did he want to - that was the question. ***

Breakfast. Apollo joined Starbuck, Boomer and Jolly at a table in the mess, responding warmly to their chorus of "Morning, Captain." Starbuck gazed at him intently over his mug of javjo, dying, Apollo knew, to ask about the previous evening.

"Anything going on I need to know about?" Apollo inquired, heading off his lover's questions.

"Not a blessed thing," Boomer answered. "We're all gonna be comatose if things get any quieter."

"You sound like you're complaining. I'm sure I could find something for you to do, Boom-boom."

"I meant to say, sir," Boomer hastily amended, "I'm so glad to have time to organize my storage locker and catch up on my paperwork."

"That's what I thought you meant," Apollo said, grinning.

"I had a really excellent evening last night," Starbuck said.

"Oh?" Apollo replied, immediately on his guard.

"Yeah, a hot streak at the Pyramid table. Cleared 125 cubits. Wish you'd been there, then maybe your financial support would increase to acceptable levels."

"Why are you always hitting me up for money?"

"You're the aristocrat of our happy band," Starbuck said, with definite edge to his tone. "Oh, but that's right, you had an important dinner last night on the Rising Star. That's why you weren't around."

Boomer and Jolly looked up with great interest. "Really?" Boomer said. "Who were you over there with?"

Apollo sighed. "Nobody exciting. My father, and Sire Derek." He paused, glancing darkly at Starbuck. "And his daughter Helena."

Jolly whistled. "I've seen her," he said. "She is something. You're a lucky man, Captain."

"Is she really 'something', Apollo?" Starbuck asked. "Come on, tell us. What's she look like?"

"All right," Apollo replied. "She's gorgeous. Long dark hair, lovely eyes. We had a very nice dinner, and that's all I'm going to say about it."

"Captain's in love," Boomer teased.

"No, I am not. Now shut up and let me eat."

Everyone laughed. Except Starbuck.

***

Patrol, under communications silence. Not officially, but Starbuck apparently had nothing to say, so there was only the occasional burst of static in Apollo's ears. He could not believe Starbuck was reacting this way, that he didn't want to hear one word Apollo had tried to say on their way down to the launch bay. After they'd done their flight checks, Starbuck had turned to him and snapped:

"I thought you'd be coming by after you got back from the Rising Star. I was waiting for you."

"I never said I would," Apollo'd replied. "Besides, I was tired, and I just wanted to go to sleep."

That was the extent of their conversation.

Apollo had never considered Starbuck to be particularly possessive. Since they'd started their affair a few months ago, nothing like this had ever bothered him. There were women who made it no secret that they'd love to spend some 'quality' time with Apollo. Starbuck had always laughed off those offers, making some snide comment about Apollo's 'moral purity'. "I'm the only one allowed to corrupt you," he'd say, grinning wickedly. No, Starbuck had never felt threatened by the attentions of other women.

"Starbuck?"

Nothing.

"Answer me, Lieutenant. That's an order."

"Yes?"

"What, exactly, is your problem?"

There was a long pause, then an icy reply:

"I know something about last night that you neglected to mention."

Apollo's breath caught in his throat. "Uh…. What?"

"You and Helena, by all accounts, were pretty friendly with each other on the dance floor."

Oh shit, Apollo thought. But then something else occurred to him: "Wait a micron, were you spying on me?"

"No, but I hear a lot of things. I got friends all over this Fleet, including amongst our 'betters'. So I guess I just want to know what exactly happened last night."

Apollo closed his eyes, remembering the feel of Helena's body against his, her soft scent enveloping both of them. Dinner was over, and the Commander and Sire Derek were still deep in conversation, so Helena had suggested they go up to the Club level for after dinner drinks and some entertainment. The next thing he knew, they were moving together on the dance floor like they'd done it their whole lives. He just had to touch her. He couldn't stop himself.

"Look Starbuck," Apollo said, going on the offensive, "if you don't trust me, then I guess there's no point in continuing this relationship."

"What relationship? Nobody even knows about it except you and me. And I had no trouble living with that until I heard about last night, and then I started thinking."

"Thinking what?"

"That I deserve better. That it's time to put an end to your private slumming. I'm tired of you being ashamed of me, Apollo."

"Starbuck -"

"No, I don't want to hear it. If you loved me, you wouldn't be doing this. When you've figured out which team you want to play for, you let me know."

***

/If you loved me…/ Those words reverberated in Apollo's mind. Never had Starbuck ever said the word 'love' to him. It was implicit: of course they loved each other, had done so as friends for many yahrens. But when Starbuck actually said it, it just underscored how hurt he really was. Apollo was nothing short of blindsided.

Which is why, he told himself, I shouldn't be doing what I'm doing now.

He hesitated before the door. Before Helena's door, on the Rising Star. She'd invited him to view her paintings, and he'd accepted. She'd been on his mind since their dinner, making him wonder about future possibilities. Maybe she was the one he was meant to be with. He had to find out, so he had to come. It would be painful telling Starbuck, should something happen here, and would likely end their friendship completely, but Apollo wanted someone to share his life. Openly share his life. For all his annoyance with his father's 'suggestions', Apollo really wouldn't mind getting married again.

And having more children. Couldn't do that with Starbuck.

Or else, he was just taking the easy path, the normal hetero route so widely approved of. Starbuck had a point about the secrecy. There was no good reason to keep things quiet. Oh well, he was here now, no turning back. He touched the doorchime.

Inside her well-appointed quarters, Helena was a bit shier with him than she'd been at dinner. After offering him a drink, they looked at her canvasses, she explaining her thoughts behind them all. They were more like mythical scenes, the landscape pushed towards the fantastic, but still recognizable as Caprica. Apollo paused longest before the ones depicting the ocean. He could nearly detect movement in the work, the waves were so exquisitely done.

"This is what I used to see out my window," he said. "Our house was on the cliffs of Osaiya."

"Would you like it?" Helena asked. "I'd be happy to give it to you."

"I'd like it very much," Apollo replied. "Thank you."

It was still there, the connection. He felt he could gaze at her forever.

"I'm glad you came to dinner the other night," she said, standing very near to him. "No offence to your father, but at first it was only going to be the three of us. Then my father suggested you, and I was… skeptical… and concerned he was trying to set me up. But it turned out all right, didn't it?"

"Yes, it did," Apollo agreed.

"Sometimes fathers do know best."

"Sometimes."

He kissed her. Her arms slipped around his neck and he pulled her close. Any doubts vanished at the moment, everything just felt so right between them.

***

But now came the most difficult task. Apollo felt sick, going over in his mind the words he had to say. Starbuck had not spoken to him at all in two weeks, save to request a different duty shift, which Apollo had accommodated. Apollo would catch the Lieutenant looking his way, however, whenever their paths crossed. Boomer and Jolly had no idea what was going on between them and speculated amongst themselves what catastrophy would have precipitated this severe falling out. But nothing they came up with was anywhere close to the truth.

Apollo was in no great rush to get married, and neither was Helena, but they had been spending a fair amount of time together. He had broached the subject with Boxey, telling the boy that he was seeing somebody, pretty seriously, and that she'd like to meet him. Boxey had frowned about it for a while, then said he thought it might be okay, as long as she was nice. Apollo assured him that she was, and he agreed to a future introduction.

But first, things had to be finished with Starbuck.

When their relationship had moved beyond friendship a few months ago, neither one of them had ever voiced any expectations. They'd always been attracted to each other, right from the instant they'd first met, but it had taken 10 yahrens for anything to come of it. One night, they were sitting glumly in the OC, complaining to each other over their respective lack of companionship, when Starbuck had suddenly looked at him and said:

"What're we bitching about? We got each other, if we're that lonely."

Apollo had regarded him suspiciously. "You don't mean what I think you mean, do you?"

"How about it? Wanna sample what everybody else raves about? Me?"

"I don't know…"

"No strings, ol' buddy. Just a bit of fun." He paused. "I've thought about it before, you know. I've wondered. It could be our little secret."

And Apollo had wanted to. As soon as Starbuck had made the suggestion, he'd felt a stirring of excitement below the waist. That first time in Starbuck's quarters was totally driven by lust. It was all physical need. Emotion wasn't a factor. It was fantastic - and they both knew it wouldn't be the last time.

But this was the end. Of everything.

Apollo touched the doorchime, and went into Starbuck's quarters.

Starbuck didn't look at him, didn't want any clues from Apollo's expression. Didn't say anything either, determined not to make things any easier. No lifelines, no suggestions. No forgiveness. Just get on with it.

"Starbuck, I'm here to tell you that I, uh, I think things with Helena are going to get serious. I have to stop being with you."

No response.

"When we started this," Apollo continued, "I didn't think it would be anything permanent. It was my understanding that we were both free."

"Do you love her?" Starbuck asked, cutting to the heart of the matter.

"Yes."

"More than me?"

The question surprised Apollo. "Well -- differently, not more," he stammered. "I've always loved you, Starbuck, and I always will."

"You're a coward."

"Why?"

"It's easier to be with her. You'll get public approval. You're no better than your father."

Cold anger flashed through Apollo, but he controlled it. He didn't want a big fight, wanted things to end as cleanly as possible.

"I'm sorry for hurting you," he said.

Starbuck took a deep breath. "Well, I'm sorry for staying quiet, but I thought you could tell how I felt. I've never been good at telling people how much I love them." He looked up at Apollo. "And I love you, Apollo. I want you to know that."

There were tears in Starbuck's eyes now, and his voice shook a little. Apollo had never seen him cry about anything before, didn't know what to do.

"Oh, Starbuck, please don't cry."

"What do you expect me to do?"

He put a hand over his face. Apollo was frozen where he stood.

"I'm sorry, Starbuck," he said. "I'm really sorry."

***

"Hello? Anybody home over there?"

Apollo snapped out of his daze and smiled at Helena.

"Yeah, sorry."

"What're you thinking about?"

"Oh, just military stuff," Apollo lied.

"Well, we'll just have to find a way to take your mind off it."

"What do you suggest?"

She leaned forward and whispered: "We'll need to go somewhere a little more private than the OC."

"Lead on, my seductress."

Helena took his hand, and they got up from their table in a quiet corner. As they crossed the room, Apollo's gaze swept over Boomer, Jolly, and Starbuck, sitting together in their usual spot. Starbuck looked right back at him, and their eyes locked for a heartbeat before Apollo turned away.

But the gaze told him everything.

I will get you back, Starbuck's eyes said. You will return to me.

***

"I gotta talk to you," Boomer said, coming into the duty office.

"What's wrong?" Apollo asked, looking up from his report he was reading.

With a weary sigh, Boomer flopped down into a chair, and just looked at the Captain for a moment.

"Starbuck," the Lieutenant replied. "He's, uh, being difficult."

"What do you mean?"

"He's being a total bastard, Apollo. You shouldn't be letting him anywhere near the cadets. They're too scared of him at the moment to learn anything. Not to mention the launch crew and the mess hall staff. The way he's been treating them, it's a wonder they're doing anything for us pilots."

"All right, I'll talk to him."

"You sure that's a good idea?"

"Why do you say that?"

"It just seems to me, Captain, that all this has something to do with whatever happened between you two a while ago. If you can't acknowledge each other when you meet in the corridor, you think he'll open up to you in this office?"

"He has to. I'm the Captain, and I don't want to kick it upstairs."

Boomer looked down at his hands. "What happened, Apollo?"

"That's between me and him."

"Because you know what the scuttlebutt is?" Boomer looked up through his eyelashes, fixing Apollo in a steady gaze.

"What?"

"That it's a lover's quarrel."

"Interesting," Apollo said evenly.

"He acted weird when you and Serina were together, too."

"I remember."

"Look, Apollo, I don't really care what the root cause of all this is, but now it's affecting everybody, so it has to be stopped."

Apollo nodded. "You're right. I'll handle it."

Boomer got to his feet. "Okay, Captain. You know best."

***

"There's been some complaints lodged against you. Your behaviour towards fellow officers and crew has been unacceptable."

Starbuck stared stonily back. "Well, sir, it seems to me that you get to go around in a bad mood whenever you feel like it, making the rest of us miserable."

"We're not talking about me. We're talking about you, and you better snap out of it or disciplinary actions will be taken."

"Fine. Put me on report, put me in the brig. Whatever. I'll snap out of it when I'm ready to, and not before."

Apollo sighed, looking to the floor for inspiration. "Starbuck, if you're angry with me, don't take it out on everybody else. That's not fair to them."

"Got your attention, though, didn't it?"

"Attention?" Apollo repeated. "Is that what this is about? Gods, you're such a child, sometimes."

"Yeah, well, at least I don't lie to myself."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Starbuck changed his mind, shaking his head. "Nothing."

"No, tell me!"

The Lieutenant dropped his gaze, thinking. Finally, he replied: "You don't love her, Apollo, not the way you think you do."

Apollo's mouth dropped open.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"It was the same with Serina, and I wish I'd said something, but I stayed quiet" - a small, self-deprecating smile broke across his face - "which is always my mistake. You think you'll be happy, and maybe you will be for a while, but it won't last. You know I'm right, Apollo. If you really look at yourself, you'll see."

Apollo was too taken aback to answer for several moments. He shook his head in disbelief.

"You're delusional," he finally replied. "And what do you know about me and Serina? You weren't even there!"

"Just think about it, okay? Before you do anything with Helena - before you deceive her too badly."

"Starbuck, I don't return what you feel for me. How can I make you understand that? It was a mistake, all of it. You've got to let me go."

Starbuck shook his head. "I'm right, Apollo."

"No, you're not."

"Well, we'll see."

***

/We'll see…/

The way he said it, like some sort of threat.

Who the hell does he think he is? Apollo thought, in a tremendously foul mood. And that crack about Serina, that was over the line. Since when does anyone speak that way about the dead?

He headed towards the inter-fleet shuttle bay, on his way to the Rising Star for dinner with Helena. Apollo knew he should have called it off, that poor Helena might be in for a bit of rough evening with him.

But then, Apollo thought, she wants to know everything about me, and that includes my shitty moods…

Besides, Starbuck was wrong. Serina did make him happy. He really had loved her, had been genuinely devastated when she died. It was Starbuck who'd acted all jealous and tried to avoid him, finally getting himself captured by the Cylons. Apollo thought about that time, 2 yahrens ago now, when Starbuck was missing and presumed dead. It had come right on the heels of losing his mother, Zac, countless friends, his home… Truthfully, at that point in his life, Apollo was feeling like a huge failure. As a soldier, he'd failed to protect his people; and as a brother and son, he'd failed to protect his family…

But Serina was there, she was right there for him to hold onto. Through her, he found his equilibrium, encouraged by her stability and clear-eyed vision. Feet firmly planted, she charged through those catastrophic events, pulling Apollo along with her.

She gave him hope. Out of the ashes of their existence, new bonds formed: love and purpose and pride in their survival. New generations would be born, life would continue. She helped him see all that, and Apollo would be eternally grateful to her.

Still, he remembered how his heart leapt when Starbuck appeared on Kobol.

Apollo shoved Serina aside, literally, and ran to Starbuck, putting on a very rare public display of affection. They didn't do that, ever. Even after that, when one of them had gone missing periodically, their greetings when found had been casual, until they were alone. Then it was okay to throw their arms around each other and get a bit teary-eyed.

The shuttle was busy, with lots of troops boarding, heading to the Rising Star for an evening of gambling or other entertainment's. Apollo ignored them, staring down as his hands, in no mood to chat. Someone sat beside him, and he could see it was a uniform, but still, he made no move to greet his seatmate.

"Hi."

Apollo closed his eyes and shook his head, instantly recognizing the voice. He couldn't believe this was happening.

"What do you want?"

"To say I'm sorry," Starbuck replied.

Apollo looked up in surprise. "For what?"

"For what I said earlier about you and Serina. There was no call for that."

He meant it. Apollo nodded. "Okay, apology accepted."

The shuttle began vibrating as the engines fired up. They were quiet until out in space, heading towards the back of the Fleet.

"We're never going to be friends again, are we?" Starbuck asked suddenly.

"I… really don't know," Apollo replied.

"I'm sorry about that, too. We had a rare good thing, Apollo, before all this mess."

"Well, we should just give it some time, you know?"

"I just wanted to tell you I won't bug you any more. I thought about everything you said to me, and if Helena will make you happy, that's all that matters. I have no right to interfere."

It pained him to say those words. Starbuck's blue eyes reflected his emotional distress, he didn't try to hide it at all. Apollo had to look away.

"Starbuck," he said, "I'm sorry if I misled you. There's just - things - I want out of this life."

"Like what?"

"More children, for one."

"Well, you're right, I can't help you with that. What else?"

Apollo sighed, wishing he'd never started this. "I guess I want the coward's way, as you called it. I'm tired of everything being so difficult. I'm tired of having to explain myself. I'm tired of being alone."

"Sounds like love to me," Starbuck said, sarcasm slipping out.

"All right, this conversation is over."

"Okay, okay, believe it or not, I do understand what you're saying. Lord knows I've had my share of opportunities for a conventional lifestyle." He paused, glancing around at their fellow passengers, then leaned towards Apollo, saying quietly: "But it's not for me. I know that. Everything I ever wanted out of this life is sitting here right beside me."

"Starbuck, please…"

"I know, I know. You're probably going to see her right now, aren't you?"

Apollo felt unaccountably guilty. "Yes."

"She's a very lucky lady."

There wasn't much else to say. Apollo wished they were somewhere private having this talk, because then they could have parted properly, with a hug good-bye. But, as it was, the shuttle docked, and they separated without another word, each going off in different directions across the Rising Star.

***

Helena was doing her best to keep Apollo's attention, but his mind kept wandering. He wasn't angry any more; Starbuck sitting with him on the shuttle had actually diffused it. Now he was just confused, the clarity that anger brings clouded over by conflicting emotions. Those pain-filled blue eyes stayed with him. Apollo hated to think that he had done this, had hurt another so badly. But, at the same time, Starbuck had to shoulder some of the blame. He never said what was going on, he never indicated that this was anything more than a fling, to be broken off at will.

"Hey," Helena poked him in the ribs. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes," he lied.

"So, what do you think?"

"Really, it's up to you," he replied, hoping it was suitable.

Helena sighed - in irritation? He couldn't be sure.

"Yes, you're right. I suppose I do have to decide on my own. It will affect my whole life, after all."

What will? Apollo thought.

"And I don't want people to think the Commander offered me this because of my relationship with you," she continued.

This got his full attention. "Well, no matter what, some people will think that," he said, desperately wondering now just what in hell they were talking about.

"Would you like me to move onto the Galactica? Or should we keep our space, like we have now?"

Move onto the Galactica… It was a big ship, she could be 30 decks away… but not if she was working for the Commander.

"Helena, I don't want to influence you. You moving onto the Galactica wouldn't be devastating for us, I don't think. If you want to take this, uh, opportunity, then you should take it."

"Well, I would get to know Boxey a little better. I'd love to be able to help you with him."

"Yeah, I'm sure he'd like that," Apollo said, half-heartedly.

"Then why do you look like you've just had a very nasty surprise sprung on you?"

"It's not that. It's just… I just have other stuff on my mind."

"Yes," she said coolly, "you usually do."

Helena got up from the sofa and grabbed their wine glasses from the low table in front of it, hurrying into the small kitchen. Apollo leaned his head back wearily and closed his eyes.

"Helena," he called, "I'm sorry."

"Uh-huh," she replied.

"Really, I'm sorry. What can I do to make things better?"

She emerged from the kitchen, arms folded across her chest.

"I don't know. This seems to be how you always act, and I think it's just you. So I can either put up with it, or not."

"What do you mean, 'how I act'?"

"Any lives other than your own don't hold much interest. Doesn't matter what I talk to you about, you tune me out."

"For your information, I'm third in command of this Fleet. I have a lot of stuff to think about all the time. I'm sorry if I come across as distracted -"

"I know how important you are!" she interrupted angrily, then hesitated before continuing, checking herself. "I was going take you apart for saying those last words, but instead I think I should be grateful because you've told me exactly where I stand. I guess I shouldn't be surprised about it, considering who you are, and what you do. If I want to stay, I'll have to accept my level of importance as being lower than that of a normal wife. Probably not even third."

"Helena!"

"Apollo, I'm not angry. In fact, this may have been a good thing. I have to think for a bit, so, thank you for joining me for dinner, and I'd like you to go, now."

Dazed, Apollo stood. She didn't move has he walked to the door, said nothing as he went through it. Apollo checked the time. It was early, but a shuttle would be heading back to the Galactica shortly. If he hurried, he could catch it.

Naw, he wanted a drink first. He stepped into the lift and directed it to the Club level.

***

He picked one of the quieter bars, parked himself on a stool, and ordered a double. It had been a very trying day.

The way Helena was talking, their relationship might very well be over, Apollo realized. And why?

Because he'd been thinking about Starbuck.

It was always Starbuck. He put himself between Apollo and everybody else, like some sort of protector. It didn't matter who Apollo tried to befriend, Starbuck would be there checking them out, too, unabashedly giving Apollo his opinion whether solicited or not. More often not. Apollo tossed back his double and ordered another.

"Captain."

Bojay slid onto a stool beside him.

"Hey, Boj," Apollo replied, as the bartender placed another drink before him.

"You here to meet Helena?"

"No, we already had dinner."

Bojay frowned. "Early evening for you."

"Yes, it sure was."

"Uh-oh, what happened?"

Apollo sipped his drink. "I really don't know."

Bojay sighed and shook his head sympathetically. "That's usually the way it goes. We piss 'em off all the time, and then they won't tell us why. Or" - clapped Apollo on the shoulder - "even worse - they do tell us! Spend days tellin' us, weeks…"

Bojay was more than a little half-cut, leaning heavily on the bar.

"I think us men should just stick together," he continued. "Be a lot less trouble. We don't have to explain anything to each other. Don't have to spend all our time talking, talking, talking - gods it drives me nuts! Every time Geena pages me and says we gotta talk, I know what's gonna happen. She's gonna talk - actually, she's gonna yell - and I'm gonna say 'I'm sorry' about 200 times until she finally runs outta air. But, you know, if we just hopped into bed, everything'd be fine. That's how I think it'd be with men. Hit the sack, problem solved."

Not exactly, Apollo thought, but Bojay's drunken commentary was highly amusing, and he couldn't help but smile. Everybody knew every detail of Bojay's relationship with Geena, because Bojay himself made sure he broadcast them all, no matter how minor, to his squadron mates. It wasn't a matter of bragging; Apollo thought Bojay was genuinely bewildered at times and looking for help, but tried to cover it up with humour or sarcasm.

"Well," Apollo said, "I'm sure we'll work things out."

"If ya don't," Bojay replied, "you can always go back to Starbuck."

"W-What?"

He laughed, smacked Apollo hard on the back. "Kidding, Captain, kidding! Although, with all the time you guys spend together, you may as well be married. And he does seem to be pining for you at the moment."

"Uh…yeah."

Apollo finished his drink, wanting to get away.

"Bucko's down in the Astral Club if ya wanna find him," Bojay said.

"Okay, thanks."

Apollo made his escape.

***

The Astral Club. Hardly surprising Starbuck would be there, considering the many and varied - and not all legal - entertainments offered. Apollo could hear the pounding music long before he could see the place. The floor rumbled beneath his feet from the force of the beat.

What am I even doing here? he asked himself.

There was a line up waiting to get in, but Apollo didn't have to wait. It was a perk of being who he was, and he decided to take advantage of it for once. He walked right up to the doorman and just looked at him, and without a word he was ushered inside. Immediately his senses were dulled from a combination of the music, darkness, and odours wafting through the air, an intoxicating mix of sweet and spicy. Very pleasant. Heavenly.

The place was jammed. Bodies jostling against each other everywhere. Apollo pushed his way towards the bar, and yelled an order at the vague shadow behind it. Suddenly, there was an insistent hand on his arm. He squinted down at the manager of the place, a short, balding, sweaty man who gave Apollo a big grin.

"We are honoured to have you here, Captain!" he shouted in Apollo's ear. "Anything special we can do for you?"

The bartender pressed Apollo's drink into his hand, and Apollo waved it at the manager by way of reply.

"Oh, so simple," the small man answered. "Nothing more challenging?"

"No."

With a small bow, the man disappeared back into the crowd.

Apollo still didn't know why he was here. He scanned the crowd for any familiar faces, but it was too dark and hazy to make anyone out. And, to be truthful, he was only looking for one familiar face…

Strange he wasn't more upset about Helena. Now that the shock had worn off, he really didn't feel all that bad. After all, he had declared he loved this woman. He had said he could see himself marrying her. Usually alcohol was for drowning one's sorrows in times of trouble, but here he was feeling a bit like he was celebrating.

Maybe I'll feel bad tomorrow, he speculated, when she tells me it's really over.

And Bojay's comment just wouldn't leave him, either. / You can always go back to Starbuck./ Is that what he was doing here, going back?

Who needs an ordinary life, he thought to himself. And what is ordinary, anyway? So far, this life has only been about change, throwing off old, irrelevant conventions and embracing the new, surviving any way we can.

His drink was finished, and immediately there was another ready for him. He moved away from the bar, towards a slightly brighter area where he could see more faces. The writhing bodies seemed to move like one great beast to the beat, thrusting back and forth, eyes closed, given over to the hypnotic movement. Apollo watched, didn't notice when someone came up behind him, and then he felt a hand at his waist. He turned and saw the face he'd been searching for.

Right there, in the middle of the swaying crowd, he pulled Starbuck to him and kissed him. Starbuck responded with his hands and his tongue, both exploring Apollo, and when they finally broke apart, Starbuck said in Apollo's ear:

"There's a place we can go."

Apollo nodded.

Starbuck grabbed his hand and began pushing through the crowd towards the other side of the club. Shortly, they were facing another burly doorman in front of another door, and Starbuck fumbled for some money. The doorman took one look at Apollo, however, and waved it off, holding up 2 hands, indicating room 6 with his fingers. Then he ushered them into the inner sanctum of the Astral Club.

The corridor they found themselves in was incredibly well soundproofed, for the noise of the club was abruptly cut off once the door was closed. They hurried down the corridor to find Room 6 open and waiting for them. Inside, the small space was mostly taken up by bed, but then, these rooms were meant for sex, so what else would be needed?

Starbuck pushed Apollo onto the bed and climbed on top of him, kissing him ferociously. They were both very hard already, their hips pressing together, moans escaping their lips. Starbuck straddled Apollo and sat up, pulling off his own tunic and undoing his belt. There was going to be no wasted time. Apollo moved under Starbuck, rubbing his cock against Starbuck's ass, and the Lieutenant stopped what he was doing and enjoyed that for a few moments, breathing heavily, looking down at Apollo through half-closed eyes. Apollo touched Starbuck's erection straining through his pants, but Starbuck pushed the hand away, and stumbled to is feet where he resumed stripping himself naked.

Then he went to work on Apollo, pulling his tunic roughly over his head, and wrestling his pants down over his hips. The job done, Starbuck threw himself back on top, the ache in his groin nearly too much for him. He kissed Apollo, but all he wanted was to be inside him. All he wanted was to feel Apollo's ass squeezing him, making him come -

"I want you," Starbuck said, "now."

Obediently, Apollo changed positions, rolling onto his stomach. These little sex rooms came prepared with everything, and Starbuck got some lube from a compartment by the bed. There'd be no stretching of Apollo, though. Starbuck was feeling inclined to punish him a little, so he only slicked up his cock, and pressed it against Apollo's opening.

"Hey…" Apollo said.

But then he couldn't speak anymore as Starbuck pushed slowly in. Apollo's breath gasped in and out of him as waves of pain rocked his body, but Starbuck would not stop. Finally, Starbuck penetrated completely, and he waiting for Apollo's ass to accommodate him, laying down on Apollo's back, listening to the racing heartbeat of his lover, and the uneven, ragged breathing.

"All right?" he asked, feeling guilty now.

"Yeah."

"Keep going?"

"Yeah."

Starbuck hoisted himself up again and began thrusting, slowly at first, then with more force and speed. Suddenly, though, he stopped and pulled out.

"What's the matter?" Apollo asked.

"Turn over."

Apollo did, onto his back again.

"Sorry," Starbuck said.

"For what?"

"That. I want to make love to you, not fuck you."

"There's a difference?"

"Yeah."

Starbuck kissed him, his hand moving down to stroke Apollo, and Apollo reciprocated in kind. Then he slowly kissed down Apollo's body, tongue and teeth tickling his nipples, his nose nuzzling the thick dark hair between Apollo's legs. He blew hotly on Apollo's testicles, hearing Apollo cry out from the intense sensation. Then he took his lover's cock into his mouth, and Apollo gently thrust into the deliciously warm wetness, moaning, his hands entangled in Starbuck's hair.

He came in Starbuck's mouth, then had the ticklish after pleasure of Starbuck licking him clean.

"Your turn," Apollo whispered, lifting his legs up to Starbuck's shoulders.

"Should I -"

"No, I'm okay. Come inside me, Starbuck."

Starbuck penetrated him again, sliding easily all the way in. He pushed himself forward so he could kiss Apollo, then, almost of their own accord, his hips began moving, finding a pleasurable rhythm. Apollo lay back, watching Starbuck's face as he brought himself to orgasm. Sweaty blond hair stuck to his cheeks and forehead, and his eyes were closed as he concentrated. His mouth worked silently until the final moment when it dropped open, and a sharp "Oh!" escaped him.

Afterwards, he lay beside Apollo. They faced each other, both on their sides, both with serious expressions on their faces.

"Was that my good-bye?" Starbuck finally asked.

The pain was returning to his blue eyes.

"No," Apollo replied.

"Then what was it?"

"I decided not to lie to myself anymore."

Starbuck looked away, his expression one of uncertainty.

"How do I know you won't hurt me again?" he asked.

"Because this won't be kept a secret anymore. We'll tell everybody about us." Apollo paused, thinking suddenly about Boomer and Bojay. "Although, somehow, I don't think it's going to be much of a surprise."

"And Helena?"

"Oh, that's probably over anyway. But I'll tell her the truth, that I'm always thinking about you."

Still, Starbuck wasn't quite convinced, was afraid to expose himself to the possible dire consequences. It would be easier just to say 'no', easier, probably, for both of them.

"Starbuck, I think I love you," Apollo said. "I think I have since the first day I met you."

"You mean when you were reaming me out for my 'attitude' in the Duty Office, you were thinking: 'Hey, he's kinda hot?'"

Starbuck smiled, showing an encouraging flash of humour.

"Well, maybe not right at that moment, but soon after."

The Lieutenant grinned. "Well, I was thinking: 'He's an asshole, but an awfully good-lookin' one.'"

"You were not!"

"I was! Seriously!" He paused. "I'm just glad we worked things out."

"Have we?"

Starbuck nodded, then sighed. "I suppose there's other customers waiting for this room."

"No, I think we can stay as long as we like."

"Yeah? Hey, why didn't I have to pay?"

"Oh, the management knows who I am, and is eager to make me happy."

"Well, then," Starbuck said, shifting closer, "why are we wasting time talking?"

THE END