BY YOUR COMMAND - Static ARCHIVE

"Hey, what's the matter?" Cassie asked, pulling away from Starbuck.

"Nothing."

"You seem almost, I don't know, depressed."

Starbuck forced himself to smile. "I'm not depressed, Cass."

"Well, I thought you'd be in a better mood. You just had three days off this barge."

"Yeah, I know. Guess I'm a little tired."

"Do you want me to go?"

"No -- well, no."

"Do you want me to stay?"

Starbuck searched around inside himself for any enthusiasm for this option. He came up empty.

"Cassie, I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm sorry."

"You have a fight with the Captain, or something?"

"No."

"Well," she said, sitting up on the bed, "I think you want me to leave, but you won't say it."

"Cassie --"

"I'm not mad, Starbuck, don't worry. You call me when you're feeling better."

"Okay."

She bent down and kissed him.

"I wish you'd tell me what's wrong," she said softly.

Starbuck stroked her cheek and shook his head.

"I'll see you later, huh?" she said.

"See you later."

After she'd gone, Starbuck turned over onto his stomach and put his arms around his pillow, burying his head in it. Scenes from the last three days flashed across his mind. An opportunity, dropped right in his lap, and, in the end, he didn't really know if he'd wasted it or not.

"Probably did," he murmured.

When would he get another chance? "Never," he said. Not around here, anyway. Everybody wanted a piece of the Captain. He was never alone for five minutes...

Back to avoiding the man, then. Back to spending his days gazing at Lieutenant Jolly in the duty office. Oh, he liked Jolly well enough, but he sure wasn't the Captain.

Apollo'd been puzzled, and, Starbuck thought, a bit hurt, when Starbuck'd requested a different duty shift. But, the Captain'd given it to him, and didn't ask why. The switch helped Starbuck's concentration, not having Apollo visible out of the corner of his eye, not having Apollo bump against his chair when he had to get by. On his new shift, however, working with Jolly, Starbuck just felt incredibly lonely.

So, in the end, maybe switching hadn't been the right move, either.

But then, it had stopped the touching that drove him crazy. Him touching the Captain, that is, every time he thought he could get away with it. Nothing intimate, just laying a hand on his shoulder or arm, the contact sending chills up and down Starbuck's spine. No, that definitely had to stop. Starbuck redoubled his efforts in touching all the women he could, but it wasn't nearly the same.

So, he managed to stop working with the Captain, and to stop touching him.

But he couldn't stop dreaming about him. That was completely out of his control. And he didn't want to stop dreaming about him either -- best damn dreams he'd ever had. Now he just needed to somehow transpose them to reality...

"Been too many years," he mumbled into his pillow, "too much shit down the swirly..."

Ten years, anyway, since he first laid eyes on tall, dark and handsome. Ten years full of dizzying joy and abject sorrow pulling them closer together, Starbuck feeling his fondness for the Captain changing to something stronger, and deeper. And then one night he'd had a real shocker of a dream where the Captain pushed him against the wall in the duty room, pressed up against him and kissed him lustily, his hands tugging at Starbuck's uniform, undoing it. The dream probably lasted only about 10 seconds, and then Starbuck was jerked awake by his alarm. But he lay there wondering what in hell was going on. He lay there feeling electrified by the Captain's imaginary touch.

So, it was time to face up to what was happening. To make a move. To find out once and for all.

Find out what? That he was driven to distraction by the Captain? He knew that all ready.

No, find out if Apollo felt the same way.

Starbuck had no idea what the Captain felt. Apollo'd always displayed a brotherly sort of affection towards him, but had kept a certain distance between them, (a distance, Starbuck knew, the Commander and Colonel Tigh thought wasn't nearly large enough), giving some creedance to the non-fraternization rules for officers. Apollo certainly never slept with any of the women below him, no matter how hard they strived to attract his attention. No, he made a conscious effort to avoid them. So would he sleep with one of the men?

"Well, Bucko, you had your shot," Starbuck said.

And it looked like he'd have to return to his old friends alcohol and gambling to fill the void.

***

Three days ago, when Starbuck came on shift, his heart skipped when he found Apollo waiting for him in the duty office -- waiting with a big grin and orders for them to do a partial ground survey of a planet that the fleet was passing. Whenever time and resources permitted, the Galactica would do these surveys, providing the fleet with information for trading whenever they hit inhabited sectors. It was a puffball assignment, done mostly by probes and computer. Once the eggs were in the air, they'd have loads of time to just sit around. It was a holiday, really.

"So, when do we leave?" Starbuck asked.

"Just as soon as I choose who gets to play me for a few days," Apollo replied. He hit a button for the commline, and said in his official voice: "Lieutenant Boomer, please report to the duty office."

"What's this place like? No snow, I hope," Starbuck said.

"All you need to know, is that it's summer, it's warm, it's sunny, and, it's away from here. Ah, Boom-boom, come in, sit down."

"Aw, geez, you're taking him?" Boomer asked, pointing at Starbuck. "Sir?" he added.

"Lieutenant Boomer, you know as well as I do that, while Starbuck has many fine qualities, leaving him up here unsupervised is not a good idea. So, yes, I'm taking him with me. And you, my lucky friend, get to be the boss for a few days. Congratulations."

"Why do I feel like I got the booby-prize," Boomer said.

"That's the spirit, Lieutenant. Your co-operation is duly noted."

"What're you grinnin' at?" Boomer snapped at Starbuck.

"Um, Sirs?" An Ensign stood uncertainly in the doorway.

"What is it?" Boomer replied.

"Captain," the young man said, coming forward, "I have to report a shortage of --"

"I'm sorry," Apollo interrupted him, "but you've mistaken me for the duty officer. There's your man." He pointed at Boomer.

"But, Sir, the regulations --" the Ensign protested.

Apollo stood up, silencing him. "You know, Ensign, it's not a good idea to quote the regulations back at your superior officers. Now, whatever the problem is, I'm sure Lieutenant Boomer can help you out. Okay?" Apollo was smiling the whole time he spoke, but he wasn't being friendly.

The Ensign swallowed. "I apologize Sir. I understand."

"What's your name?" Apollo asked.

"Ensign Kade Molor, Captain."

"I'll remember it," Apollo promised. "Now, Lieutenant Starbuck, shall we be on our way?"

"I'm right behind you, Sir," Starbuck said.

"Good luck, Sir," Boomer added, his tone sarcastic.

"Poor kid," Starbuck said, when they were out of earshot, "being roughed up by the Big Man Himself. You can be sure he'll report to his buddies how scary you are."

"Well, if it'll teach 'em to do what I say, then, good. Anyway, pack some stuff, whatever you want to bring, meet me at the shuttle bay in 10 minutes."

"Ten minutes!"

Apollo said, "I want off this tub before something happens to keep me here. So move it!"

"Yes, Sir!"

"This planet have a name?" Starbuck asked as the shuttle cleared the bay.

"Not really. Stellar cartography named the sun Callista, and they're just calling the planet Callista 4. To hard to come up with names for every piece of rock we pass."

Apollo set the course, hit autopilot, leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh. The shuttle swung around, and they went back under the massive Galactica, towards the bright blue ball that was Callista 4. Starbuck allowed himself to fantasize, briefly, about being marooned there with the Captain -- not forever, but maybe for a few months. Just enough time for --

"Oh no oh no!" The commline crackled. "Collision immanent! Shuttle craft, take evasive action --"

A viper shot over them, then dove down in front of them. Starbuck and Apollo leaned forward to watch it.

"You're asking to get grounded, Jolly," Athena scolded from the Galactica's bridge.

"Hey, talk to the shuttle pilot, Athena --"

Apollo flipped on his comm. "Go easy on him, sis."

"Pardon me, Captain Apollo?" she replied sharply.

"I'm just glad he finally learned how to turn," Apollo said.

"Hey!"

"Excuse me," came the deep voice of the Commander, "but since there is no official business being conducted on the fleet commline, you are to break off the chatter. Now."

"Sorry, Sir. Captain signing off."

"'Bye, Pol!" Athena called.

"See you in three days."

***

It was over an hour to Callista 4. They spent the time talking about crew members and fleet problems, while the planet grew to fill their view, and suddenly the console beeped, signalling that they were about to enter the outer atmosphere. Sparks and a serpentine fire played over the shuttle from the atmospheric friction, then, abruptly, they were through, surrounded by high, wispy clouds, and a sky that got bluer as they lost altitude. Below them was a sea of green, a virgin forest, unbroken as far as they could see.

"Computer," Apollo said, "find us a nice campsite."

They set down on the top of a cliff. Far below them was the forest that was finally stopped by a mountain range in the distance on the horizon. The top was flat, rocks interspersed with short grasses and scrubby bushes. The trees began again about 20 metres back from the edge. Callista was a yellow ball directly over them, her heat relieved by a strong breeze.

"It's beautiful," Apollo said, staring off at the mountains.

Starbuck hit the latch for the big door on the back of the shuttle, standing back as it swung up over him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Apollo doing something, turned his head slightly to see, and was hypnotized by the performance.

Apollo peeled off his flight jacket, then the heavy tunic under it, leaving only his light thermal T-shirt, which fit close to his body, showcasing Apollo's lean, muscular chest. And his pants were loose now, sat lower on his hips without the tunic. Starbuck could see the top of his hip bone. He had to force himself to look away.

Not that he'd never seen Apollo naked before. He had -- outside of his dreams, too. There's lots of communal living in the military.

But he found that stripping down indescribably sexy.

"I, uh, I think we better get started," he said.

Apollo shrugged. "Okay," he said, coming over to help.

They kept brushing up against each other as they unloaded the shuttle, Starbuck somehow always got in Apollo's way. Finally, all of the big, black boxes out, they began popping open the lids.

"What do you want to do, eggs or master control?" Apollo asked.

"Eggs."

Starbuck dragged a cargo bin of probes over to the cliff's edge. There were fifteen of the oblongs, each as long as his arm, with slender launch stands that he anchored to the rock. For everything that they would do -- crisscross the planet, scanning the whole surface area, noting anomalies, lifesigns, estimated mineral content of the crust, and self destruct when their job was done -- they were surprisingly light. Starbuck hoped the wind wouldn't knock them all down.

As he crouched, adjusting one of them, he glanced back at Apollo, who was sitting on one of the bins, the parts for master control strewn around him. Suddenly he stopped, frowned, got up, flipped open the bin he was sitting on, then another, then another. He carefully set the half-assembled console down, went searching around the scattered bits of equipment.

"What's the matter?" Starbuck called.

"I think we're missing a part."

"What part?"

"Oh, just the goddamn guidance system!"

With a sigh, Starbuck abandoned his task and joined Apollo.

"What's it look like?" he asked.

"A black cube, about this big" -- Apollo held up his fingers -- "two prongs on one side, three on another."

They went through every bin, the shuttle, the scrubby plant life in case it had rolled away somehow.

"Where is it?" Apollo exclaimed.

"I'm thinking it's on the Galactica somewhere."

"Well," Apollo said, "I'll tell you one thing. I'm not going back to get it. I can do a patch job with the shuttle computer. Just means we'll have to babysit it a little more."

Apollo picked up the half-assembled master control and went into the shuttle. Starbuck returned to the probes.

When he'd finished, Starbuck lay down on his stomach close to the edge and rested his head on his arms, looking out over the vista before him. Callista warmed him, relaxed him, and his eyelids drooped, then closed. He drifted.

He felt another presence. He opened his eyes to find Apollo lying beside him, asleep, head nestled in his arms. He was close enough to touch, and Starbuck resisted the urge to reach out and caress his hair, contented himself with watching Apollo sleep. Slowly, Apollo stirred, his eyes fluttered and opened, looking right into Starbuck's. Starbuck blushed, embarrassed to be caught staring. To cover himself he said:

"We ready to launch the probes?"

"Uh-hmmm," Apollo said, like he wasn't totally awake.

"Is that a 'yes'?"

"Yeah."

Apollo closed his eyes again. This time, Starbuck waited a few minutes, watching Apollo's breathing become deeper, then bravely reached out and lightly touched Apollo's hair. Apollo's eyes flew open and his head snapped up. Starbuck snatched his hand back.

"What was that?" Apollo said.

"What was what?" Starbuck said.

Apollo looked at him for one long moment.

"I guess it was just the wind," he said finally.

"Must have been."

Apollo sighed, got to his feet.

"We better get these things in the air," he said.

Wordlessly, Starbuck followed him back to the shuttle.

***

Later they sat in a couple of camp chairs by the cliff's edge, and watched Callista set over the distant mountains. The probe launch hadn't gone as smoothly as anticipated, thanks to Apollo's "half-assed patch job," as Starbuck had called it in a moment of frustration. But the eggs were away now, transmitting their data. It had just taken about five hours longer than it should have.

"Can I ask you something?" Apollo said.

"Shoot."

"Why'd you change shifts a month ago?"

Starbuck's heart did a minor convulsion.

"No reason," he said calmly. "Just wanted a change."

He knew Apollo was watching him.

"How're you finding things working with Jolly?" asked the Captain.

"Every day's an adventure."

"I can imagine."

A pause. "So," Apollo continued, "I didn't piss you off or anything?"

"No. Really. Nothing."

"Okay, but, if you've got a problem with me, I wish you'd tell me."

There's your opening, Bucko, run with it --

"There's no problem."

Arrg.

"All right." Apollo stood. "I'm going to build us a fire."

Starbuck turned in his chair to watch Apollo walk away, to watch his long easy stride, his gaze travelling up Apollo's legs, to his slim waist, and up across his broad shoulders. He took a deep breath.

"This has to stop," he muttered to himself. "Courage, Lieutenant, courage."

Well, at least the Captain wouldn't mind him having a smoke or two. While Apollo stacked the deadfall, Starbuck ducked into the shuttle. On the bottom of his pack was his stash -- funny, it was the first thing he'd put in. Already rolled, sweet smelling banya leaf. Sometimes he got a buzz just sniffing it.

"Good 'ole Machi," he murmured, referring to the little man in the hydroponics lab who supplied the sweet banya.

Apollo had brought his own form of relaxation. A bottle of amber liquid, fine distilled boca, rested beside his camp chair. The stars were beginning to come out, and he had his head back, watching them, a million stars in unnamed constellations.

Starbuck sat down, lit his smoke off a burning twig and took a long, deep drag. Almost immediately warmth flooded through him, his tension melting out of his muscles. He held the smoke out to Apollo, but the Captain shook his head.

"No, thanks, Bucko."

"You never smoke this stuff, do you?" Starbuck asked.

"Nope."

"You don't like it?"

Apollo hesitated. "No, that's not it."

"Then what? Moral concerns?"

That made Apollo laugh. "No," he said.

"Then what?"

Apollo looked into the fire for a moment.

"I'll tell you a story," he replied, "a story that I've never told anybody."

"Sounds like a good one," Starbuck said, inhaling deeply.

"It is." He paused for a moment. "When I was 20, I was stationed at the Cetes Starbase. I was just a pilot for the first couple of months, no real responsibility other than fly my missions and keep an eye on my wingmates. At Cetes there was a real feeling of, oh, I don't know, insulation, I guess, in that there'd never been any serious threats made against it, so things were pretty lax for the first few months I was there.

"But, it didn't last, because we did get hit one day, hard, and predictably there was panic and fighters getting destroyed in the launch bays, and pilots not responding to the alert, and, we later learned, a faulty early warning system. But, despite all that, we did manage to beat back the attack and while Cetes came away with significant damage, it was repairable, so it was kept open, and the surviving crew, including me, remained stationed there. Half of my squadron had been killed, including our squadron leader, so my CO decided that I was ready for the job.

"The top brass on Caprica, of course, were terribly embarrassed by the stories that leaked out about Cetes, so they decided to whip us all into shape and transform Cetes into a model for the rest of the forces to follow. And they really leaned on everybody, harsh punishment for every minor transgression, kind of a zero tolerance policy. So, for about half a year, they managed to plunge morale to new lows while creating this exquisite starbase that they used to like to call their 'jewel of the skies.'

"I had no problem with taking over the squadron, didn't really believe that things would change all that much at Cetes once we started being ignored again. But, as Cetes was rebuilt and expanded and perfected, the Cylons took more and more notice of it, so we became a constant target. And, on Caprica, it was decided that we had enough resources and personnel to fend for ourselves. The new model base would show everybody how to keep the enemy at bay.

"For the most part, we did manage to do just that, but at the expense of burning out everybody stationed there, myself included. After a year of this I felt like I was seriously losing my mind. And all my transfer requests had been denied, and I hadn't even been able to take more than two days leave at a time, so I knew that something was going to give, it was only a matter of time. One day I was down in the cargo bay, checking for some things I'd ordered from Supply, and I guess I must have just looked like hell, because one of the cargo pilots sidled up and offered to help me out. And I took her help, which was in the form of lovely little shot of the 'thinking man's drug', phaederine. And the change, I have to say, was immediate. My mind was clear for the first time in months. I was suddenly productive again, not stumbling around in a fog. So I bought some off her, figuring, oh I just need a week or so of this, get back on track, catch up on the backlog. Well, before I knew it, three weeks went by, and I found myself waiting for her arrival in the cargo bay. And then, suddenly, three months went by with me and the lovely phaederine becoming quite involved with each other, but I refused to believe that I was addicted. I ignored the shakes when I got up in the morning. I ignored the fact that the hypospray was the first thing I grabbed for.

"And then, one day I was expecting this cargo pilot, and she didn't arrive. I quietly asked around for her, learned that she'd been arrested. Apparently she'd had quite a little business going supplying the troops. I just thought, oh well, I suppose I better get off it anyway, now's as good a time as any, but, as you can probably guess, that wasn't an option. The day after I ran out, I was shaking so bad, I could hardly dress myself. I was so sick, I couldn't stand. I had a staff meeting that I had to get to, so I called in one or my most trusted squadron members, and he went out and found me a variety of pharmaceuticals which got me through that day . But I recognized right then that I had a serious problem, that maybe I was going to need some hospitalization, so I went in to my CO and demanded the leave that was owed to me, and he promised a couple of weeks off at the end of the month, which was 17 days away.

"So, until my leave, I took whatever my trusted squadron mate found for me, and I'm really surprised I never overdosed, as I wasn't all that careful. And then I got on a transport to Gemini and checked myself into a private rehab clinic, where I spent the worst two weeks of my life getting cleaned up. They said I was so bad not because of the phaederine, but because of all the other shit I'd taken. I couldn't eat, I heard voices, felt like someone was sticked pins in my eyes. One time, when the staff was holding me down I was sure they were dismembering me. I halucinated a big blade, cutting off my legs. Spent a lot of time screaming I think. Not pleasant.

"In the end, I came out of there about 15 pounds lighter, still unsteady on my feet, but I thought I had to go back to Cetes, which was stupid. I needed more time. But back I went, and I was a total mess as squadron leader, was lucky I didn't get anybody killed, and finally got demoted for poor performance. And you know what? I was so relieved to be back down again, where I was merely expected to follow orders and not have any opinions, I think it's ultimately what saved me.

"So, my friend, that's why I won't smoke any banya leaf with you."

Apollo reached down beside his chair for another piece of wood and threw it on the fire.

"You've never taken anything since then?" Starbuck asked.

"Nope. Actually, I'm not suppose to drink either, but, obviously I ignore that."

"You ever get tempted?"

Apollo looked at him. "Every day," he said. "The craving never leaves you. I liked it -- the phaederine, I mean, not all the other crap. Everything was so easy when I was on it... I tend to think about it a little more fondly than I should. But, if you take it too long, it'll eventually punch holes in your brain, and you'll end up drooling and incontinent in some hospital ward. But still, you know, there are times..."

They lapsed into silence, Starbuck reflecting that there was much he didn't know about the Captain, even after all these years.

"Hey!" Apollo said, pointing up. "Probe!"

A bright dot moved swiftly over them, disappearing again within seconds.

"Well, at least one of them's still going," Apollo commented.

Starbuck took one last drag, drifting, the familiar weightless sensation coming over him, letting him float comfortably by the fire. This last crop from Machi was strong. The flames flickered slower and slower, split into a rainbow of colours: purple, blue, red. All around him was darkness, he couldn't see anything but the multi-coloured fire --

"You okay?"

Apollo shook him.

"Come on, Bucko, back to reality."

Starbuck heard him, but there was something glowing in the centre of the fire. He couldn't quite see what it was. He leaned forward in his chair. It had a diamond shape -- like a gemstone. He had to get it before the fire damaged it. He lurched forward, reached into the flames --

And was quite abruptly on the ground on his back.

"What the hell are you doing?" Apollo was shouting down at him.

"There's something in the fire," Starbuck said, thoroughly confused.

"Yeah, wood. Let me look at your hand."

Apollo took it gently, turning it in the fire light.

"I think you're just a little singed," he said. "Come on, let's go to the shuttle."

He helped Starbuck to his feet, steadied him as he stumbled into the shuttle and onto one of the bunks. Under the lights, his hand was an angry red, and was starting to hurt. Apollo opened the medikit, picked out a hypospray and a dermagun. He gave Starbuck a shot, and the pain subsided.

"Hold out your hand," Apollo said, setting the dermagun.

Starbuck's hand was bathed in a pale blue light that emanated from the instrument. The skin cooled and regenerated.

"I'm sorry," Starbuck said.

"It's okay," Apollo replied, not looking up.

"I'm an idiot."

"Sometimes," Apollo agreed.

"Oh, thanks."

Apollo gave him a quick grinning glance, went back to concentrating on his treatment. He was crouching in front of Starbuck, close enough to get the top of his head kissed. Starbuck leaned forward -- then thought what am I doing? and pulled back again. He could probably get away with resting a hand on his shoulder --

Apollo clicked off the dermagun.

"I think you'll live," he said.

"Thank you, doctor."

Starbuck flexed his hand, waggled his fingers. Still felt a bit numb, but undamaged.

"You feel okay?" Apollo asked as he closed up the medikit.

"Yeah."

"Maybe we better turn in."

"Okay."

Apollo went out to douse the fire, and Starbuck sat on the bunk with his head in his hands. He'd done nothing right today -- nothing! He'd have to make tomorrow count. And no more of that damn banya!

And then he realized -- he'll have to watch Apollo get undressed! No, not watch him, you really shouldn't watch people doing those sorts of things when they're not expecting to be watched. No, get undressed, get in bed, turn your back on him, Starbuck.

So he did.

And Apollo set Starbuck's heart a-pounding when he sat down on the bunk with him, leaned over --

"Yes?" Starbuck said.

"Just making sure you're still with us," Apollo answered.

"Oh."

He patted Starbuck on the shoulder.

"See you in the morning, Bucko," he said.

"What, no kiss good-night?"

Oh what foolish hopes you harbour.

"I'll tuck you in, but that's as far as it goes," Apollo replied, getting up. "Good night,"

"'Night."

***

Starbuck awoke first. He didn't know where he was for a few seconds, then he remembered. Across from him, Apollo was still deeply asleep, on his side with his back to him. Starbuck watched him breathe, his back muscles moving in a slow, regular rhythm . His gaze travelled down to the Captain's buttocks pressing against his shorts, then his legs, lean and muscular. Starbuck's groin tingled --

The fantasy was abruptly destroyed by an alarm screaming from the shuttle console. Apollo was instantly awake and on his feet, conditioned to react that way to alarms. Starbuck sat up, but made no moves get off the bunk.

Apollo staggered to the front of the shuttle.

"Turn off that noise!" he snapped at the computer. "What's the problem?"

"Probe Beta 2 is malfunctioning," answered the computer.

"What's its position?"

"32 degrees 5 minutes 14 seconds over the southwestern ocean. Taking pro-active measures."

"Do I have to do anything?"

"Autosystems are working to rectify the problem," the computer said smartly.

"Well, thank you for waking us up to tell us that," Apollo grumbled.

"You are welcome."

With a disgruntled sigh, Apollo went back to his bunk and flopped down.

"And here I was," he said, "thinking as I drifted off last night, how nice it'll be not to be woken up by some damn alarm."

How about by a man in your bunk? Starbuck thought, giving himself a wee thrill. He said: "You hungry?"

"I will be, after I sleep a little longer."

Now Apollo was asleep on his back, on top of the covers, fully exposed. It was too much for Starbuck, his gave tracking down the Captain's body, lingering in places. He really liked the Captain's hipbone, and across his flat stomach, with the fine dark hairs that went down to the waistband on his shorts -- and below. He thought he could look at that all day. Starbuck tore his gaze away and lay back down, turning to face the wall. He was desperate for relief, and quickly and quietly, he touched himself. It didn't take long.

Then he hurriedly got up and ducked into the shuttle's tiny washroom, leaned against the wall and activated the sono-shower, letting invisible waves pummel all the dirt off of him. Still hurrying, he got dressed, just a pair of pants, no top, no boots, and he stepped out into the bright, warm day.

You gotta tell him, he said to himself, as he wandered out to the cliff's edge. Or, at the very least, you gotta find out if he even likes men...give yourself some faint hope to cling to.

He turned around to face the shuttle.

"Captain," he said, formally, "I want to sleep with you, Sir. I want to pin you down, Sir, and tear your clothes off. I want to kiss you right across your --"

He broke off, and spun back around as Apollo stepped out of the shuttle.

"Ohshitohshitohshit," he muttered, terrified that his words might have somehow reached the Captain.

He felt Apollo coming towards him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

"What're you doing?" Apollo asked.

"Paying my respects to the sun goddess Callista."

"Well, the sun goddess is behind you."

"Oh. All right, then, I'm just standing here. That's what I'm doing. Standing."

"You're acting awfully weird," the Captain said.

"That a problem?"

"Not yet."

I wonder what he'd do, Starbuck thought, if I just started to cry. He'd probably hug me.

"Starbuck?"

I wonder what he'd do if I just grabbed him and kissed him.

"Hello? Starbuck?"

"I'm thinking!"

"Oh, so you're standing and thinking. At the same time. Wow."

"You know," Starbuck said, "maybe I'm not in the mood to be insulted."

Yeah, that's it, start a fight!

"Okay, I'm sorry. Come on, I'll buy you breakfast."

Damn!

***

"I got a route mapped out," Apollo said later.

"Oh, gods. How long?"

"Only 10K. I think you can handle that."

"As long as it's all downhill."

"The first half is."

"No big animals out there, are there?"

"Well," Apollo said, "the probes have picked up a few, uh, interesting life signs."

"You know, this it why I didn't stick with farming. I don't like animals. Especially ones that might find us tasty."

"We'll have lots of warning if something's coming up on us."

They set off, Apollo in the lead. He held a scanner in his right hand, and soon it located a well-worn trail made by one of the forest dwellers, or, one of the 'big animals' Starbuck was so worried about. It wove down a gentle slope, through narrow openings in dense thicket, leading to a domain of giants. The sky was blocked by bows of impossibly massive trees, allowing only a dim twilight on the ground.

"Holy," Starbuck said, staring up where the branches started, at least 50 metres above them. "These trunks must be 15 metres around."

They walked a circuitous route, having to climb over and under thick roots. Soon, the ground began to slope away again, and the giants gave way to their smaller counterparts. The forest began thinning out, with smaller, immature trees and thigh-high scrub now covering the land. Apollo stopped suddenly.

"Listen!" he said.

Through the rustling of leaves, Starbuck picked out a gurgling sound.

"Water!" Apollo said. "This way."

He set off to the right.

The gurgling became louder, changed to a rushing sound, like rapids. Ahead of them they could see an opening in the forest. And then, a river, fast flowing over black and grey rocks. Starbuck tapped Apollo on the shoulder, pointed off to his left.

"Let's go down there!" he shouted over the noise, indicating a spot below the rapids, where there was a large, flat rock jutting out into calmer water, right in the sun.

They slipped their packs off their shoulders and settled down to lean against them. For a few moments they just watched the dark pool of water, currents making lazy swirls across its surface.

"Well," Starbuck said, "I gotta admit this beats being on the Galactica."

"Sure does."

"We really have to go back tomorrow?"

"'Fraid so."

Apollo stretched out and closed his eyes. Starbuck stole glances at him, wondering if this was the right time. It was a beautiful spot, anyway. Perfect place to kiss him.

"Why'd you bring me here, Apollo?" he asked.

"Because I thought you needed a break," Apollo answered, eyes still closed.

"Yeah, well, so does everybody," Starbuck said, a bit bitterly.

Apollo opened one eye, looked at him.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked. "You mad at me?"

"No," Starbuck answered.

"Well, it sure seems like it. Goes along with your avoiding me."

"Look, I told you, the shift change was -- was just a change."

"Yeah, whatever."

They lapsed into a tense silence.

"Well, I do have a problem, okay?" Starbuck said.

"I'm listening."

"And it does involve you."

"Yeah, I figured that."

"And, I don't know what else to say."

"Well, that's not terribly helpful," Apollo said. "And, it's not fair to leave me like this, wondering what the hell I've done to you."

"The thing is, Captain, it might make things worse if I do tell ya."

"Worse how?"

"It, uh, it might break us apart."

Apollo opened his eyes. "What?" he said.

Starbuck gave him one long, unhappy look, and slowly it dawned on Apollo what the 'problem' was.

"Oh no," he said.

Starbuck kind of bobbed his head around, nodding.

"I shoulda known," Apollo said, his tone a resigned coldness.

Starbuck didn't know what to make of his response.

"It's nothing terrible, Apollo," he said cautiously.

"Oh, really? Well, it all makes sense now. Your avoiding me, being off while I'm on duty --"

"What are you talking about?"

"No wonder she wouldn't tell me when I asked her. She was trying to protect you."

"Who?" Starbuck said.

"I guess I should be grateful you told me at all, what with your history. Well, Bucko, you want Hali, you can have her."

"Hali? I don't --"

"I don't want to hear it!"

Apollo got to his feet, grabbed his pack and stomped away.

"But that's not it," Starbuck said to the river.

Well, it's your own bloody fault, Starbuck berated himself as he made his way back to camp. If you'd just learn to say what you bloody well mean...

Apollo was nowhere in sight, wasn't answering when he paged him on the communicator. Funny, this slope didn't seem so steep coming down. Starbuck leaned against a tree trunk, puffing.

"Listen," he said into his communicator, "will you at least let me know you're not lying at the bottom of cliff somewhere?"

After a few seconds, Apollo snapped back: "I'm alive."

"Does it ever occur to you, before you flip out, that you might be wrong?" Starbuck asked.

"Am I wrong?"

"Can we talk about this back at camp?"

"I thought so."

"Goddammit," Starbuck muttered, pushing himself away from the tree.

In the realm of the giants, he stopped to rest again, slipping his pack off and sitting on a huge root sticking out of the ground. He took a big swig of water from his canteen, then activated his communicator again.

"Hey, Mr. Instantly Angry, are you still with us?" he asked.

No reply.

"Come on, Apollo. Just say 'yes.'"

Silence.

"Apollo? Apollo, where are you?"

He stood, did a slow turn, squinting at the shadows under the giant trees.

"Don't play games, Apollo. I'm getting a little worried, now."

A snapping sound behind him made him grab for his gun and crouch down. He thought he saw something moving, about 20 meters away, but it was too dim to make out what it was.

"Okay, Captain, I think we got a situation here," he whispered into the communicator

Oh yeah, something definitely moved, was more to his right now. Circling him maybe.

Starbuck's mouth went dry, and his blood pounded in his ears. Another shifting in the shadows, and kind of a shuffling sound. He aimed, trying to follow whatever it was. Then he lost it. There was only the sound of his own breathing. He gripped his gun tightly --

And jumped out of his skin when something poked him in the back.

"HOLY SHIT!" he yelled, spinning around, squeezing off nine or ten blasts at...nothing.

Then, he heard the voice. "Please don't shoot me."

"Where are you?" Starbuck demanded.

Apollo stepped out from around a tree, a long branch in his hand.

"What the hell'd you do that for?" Starbuck exploded at him. "I coulda blown your fucking head off!"

His heart was still racing, but now with anger.

"I knew you'd miss," Apollo said smugly.

"Fucking idiot!" Starbuck shot through clenched teeth as he holstered his gun and shouldering his pack.

They returned to camp in stoney silence. Starbuck dropped his pack on the ground, stomped to his camp chair and dragged over closer to the edge, sat down with his back to the shuttle. After a while, Apollo appeared, two cups in his hands. He held one out to Starbuck.

"Peace offering," he said.

Starbuck took it, clinked it against Apollo's cup.

"Peace," he said, and took a sip of the smooth, amber boca.

Apollo sat down on the ground beside him.

"I'm not sleeping with Hali," Starbuck said.

"No?"

"No! I didn't even know you were!"

"Yeah, well..."

"You really like her?" Starbuck asked.

"Uh, yeah, but it's not going anywhere. Getting to be a waste of both of our times, I'm starting to think."

"So, you exploded at me about something that's pretty much over anyway, and which I had nothing whatsoever to do with."

"That pretty much covers it, I guess," Apollo said.

Starbuck rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"You really ought to do something about your temper," he said.

"I know. I'm not proud of myself. I keep hoping maybe I'll mellow with age."

"Where's it come from, anyway? I never see the Commander acting like that. Although, your sister's another story..."

Apollo chuckled. "Well, the Commander has mellowed, believe me. He hasn't always been so calm. Really, there wasn't much hope for any of us kids, being the products of two quick-tempered adults. It's genetic, I tell myself."

"Your mother too?"

"Oh, yeah. Zac, Athena and I used to call our house 'the scream zone'. Our parents didn't get along too well. As soon as my father came in the door, us kids would quickly say our 'hellos' and then take off for the beach so we wouldn't get caught in the crossfire."

"Sounds bad."

"Ah" -- Apollo shrugged -- "you know, when you're a kid, you can get used to anything. And it was only really bad when my father came home on leave. They had a ritual, when my father'd be heading back to the war. My mother would stand at the door and scream at him so the whole neighbourhood could hear her. She'd say: 'Don't bother coming back the next time! You think I need you?' And he'd yell back: 'Nobody else would have you, you miserable bitch!' It sounds almost comical now."

"I'm surprised they managed to have three kids."

Apollo started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Starbuck asked.

"Oh, just something Athena and I used to say about poor Zac. For a while we doubted his paternity, thought his father was actually our neighbour. I don't remember what got us on to that, but I do remember that our mother certainly liked talking to this guy when they met out on the street. So, whenever my father was home, we'd look at him, and we'd look at Zac, and we'd confer on our observations, and finally had to conclude that Zac really didn't look like Dad at all. And then we studied our neighbour, and decided, or made ourselves believe, anyway, that Zac bore a definite resemblance to him. Who knows, maybe we were right..."

"No wonder you're so screwed up," Starbuck commented.

"Yeah." Apollo nodded. "So, look, I'm really sorry for getting angry and accusing you. There was no call for it."

"That the only thing you're sorry about?"

Apollo sighed. "And, I'm sorry for making you think that a big, bad animal was coming to eat you."

"I guess I'll accept that."

Starbuck stole a glance at him, but Apollo was staring straight ahead into the distance, lost in his own thoughts.

"Do you ever think about what you'd do if you didn't have to be a soldier?" Apollo asked.

"Not really. You?"

"Yeah, especially when I'm away from the fleet like this. I don't think we're meant to live on ships for years and years and years. When I do get away, it just makes me realize how much I want off. I'm tired of it all..."

"We got a ways to go yet," Starbuck said.

"Yeah, and it scares me to death."

"What? Why?"

"Because, sometimes, I don't think I'll be able to take it. I don't know, all the death, and struggle, and pain, it's taking a toll on me."

There was nothing Starbuck could say to that, so he got out of his chair, and sat down on the ground beside Apollo, and put his arm around his shoulders, giving him a squeeze.

"Don't crack up on me, okay?" he said.

"No promises," Apollo replied.

"I love you, you know," Starbuck said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

But Apollo just took the admission in stride.

"Thanks," he said. "I love you, too."

***

A fitful sleep, and an aching heart.

Starbuck was awake as light began filling the shuttle, with an aching head, too, as the evening had ended badly, both of them getting blind drunk. Starbuck couldn't remember what they talked about as they passed the bottle back and forth, but he was pretty sure he made no moves on Apollo, and, he saw, he still had all his clothes on, so at some point he'd just passed out in here. It was incredibly lucky that neither one of them had fallen off the cliff.

Need water, he thought, sitting up, gripping the edge of the bunk as a wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him. He didn't recall having anything to eat last night, other than alcohol, so he could look forward to a session of the dry heaves.

He looked across at the other bunk -- at the empty other bunk. Starbuck lurched over to it, patted it to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Nope, it was empty all right. Starbuck stumbled back, squinted around the shuttle. He was definitely alone -- wait, check the washroom. Nope, empty too.

He flung open the door and staggered out into the soft light of the sunrise. For a moment, he couldn't seem to focus, felt a jolt of panic when he realized he didn't see Apollo anywhere --

Then he saw a bundle of blankets on the ground beside the burned down campfire. He staggered over and dropped down beside them. He could just see the top of Apollo's head poking out of the blankets.

"Apollo?" He shook him. "Apollo!"

"What?" came the pained, muffled reply.

"You okay?"

Slowly, his face emerged from under the blankets. "What?" he said.

"I didn't know where you were."

"Oh."

"You want to come back to the shuttle?"

Apollo seemed to be taking some notice of his surroundings. "Yeah," he said, slowly easing himself to a sitting position. "Oh, god!" he exclaimed, putting his head in his hands.

"I hear ya, buddy," Starbuck said. "Come on, up we get."

Arms around each other, they staggered back to the shuttle, Starbuck reflecting that, if he felt better, he might actually be enjoying holding the Captain up. He eased Apollo down onto his bunk, watched him immediately pass out again, on his back, arm hanging over the side. Starbuck looked down at him, and it must have been the alcohol still coursing through him that spurred him on, because he bent down and kissed Apollo, lightly, on the lips. He held the kiss as long as he dared. Apollo never stirred, didn't know it happened.

The second time Starbuck awoke, it was to the sounds of Apollo dumping out the medikit. It was several hours later, and he felt better, but suspected that as soon as he moved, his head would start pounding. He opened his eyes, saw Apollo sitting on the floor, jamming a cartridge into a hypospray. He gave himself a shot, then noticed Starbuck watching him, so, without asking, crawled over, grabbed Starbuck's arm, gave him a shot too.

"Thanks," Starbuck said as the pressure behind his eyes eased.

Then Starbuck remembered the kiss. And he thought, for one terrifying moment as Apollo gazed at him, that he remembered it too. But no, it was just the dead stare of the severely hung over.

"God, my back hurts," Apollo said.

"Well, you spent most of the night on the cold hard ground."

"Oh, yeah."

"And you should probably get off the floor."

"I will, in a minute."

Apollo slipped from view as he lay down again. Starbuck rolled over to peer down at him.

"We're a pair," he said. "Can't hold our liquor anymore."

Apollo had his arm up over his eyes.

"Ummm," he said.

"What time do we have to leave?" Starbuck asked.

"Soon."

"How soon?"

"I don't know."

"Ah, if only the troops could see you now, Captain."

Apollo sat up.

"I gotta get some food," he said.

"Yeah, me too."

Outside, Callista was much too bright, making Apollo swear. He shook two jugs of protein shakes, handed one to Starbuck. They drank silently, sitting on the ground in the shade, leaning against the shuttle.

"Well," Apollo said, "I'll be sorry to leave here."

"Yeah."

"Hopefully we'll find someplace like this to settle on, some day."

The clock was ticking, Starbuck realized. Soon they'd have to pack up, head home, and all this would be quickly forgotten. Why didn't he speak when he had the alcohol to back him up --

And then, something flashed across Starbuck's mind, a half remembered conversation from the previous night. A declaration, clumsy, full of slurred syllables, put forth about his true feelings, some kind of a quick grasping onto Apollo, and then --

What?

Nothing. No further information available.

But maybe he could guess. A drunken rejection, and Starbuck storms away, passing out in the shuttle, while Apollo settles down by the fire --

"Oh, lord," Starbuck murmured.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

He didn't even want to look at the Captain, felt humiliated, shattered, heartbroken.

***

And he still felt all those things, lying on his bed in his quarters.

It was so depressing steering the shuttle into the gaping maw of the shuttle bay. Both of them had felt it, but for different reasons. He'd never get Apollo all to himself like that again.

But then, who was he kidding? Even if he did, nothing would come of it.

So, Bucko, now you know, he thought to himself. You were better off living in ignorance.

But there was something else from the previous night that tugged at his mind.

Just an image, a point in time only a few seconds long, where he could see Apollo's face, close, and felt Apollo's hand on his cheek, his thumb brushing gently over Starbuck's lips. That was all, but Starbuck had no doubt it happened.

So maybe there was room for hope after all.

Maybe his dreams would tell him more.

Starbuck closed his eyes, and was quickly fast asleep... and dreaming.

 

THE END

To Jealous