It was dark when Starbuck awoke. For a micron, he wondered where he was, and whose bed he was in. He called up the lights just enough to verify his rather alarming memories. Holy Frack! His heart pounded with sheer joy and absolute terror. He was in Apollo's bed, with Apollo half wrapped around him. It was very pleasant, even though he wasn't ordinarily the cuddling sort. He felt deliciously sated and just a bit sore. Apollo had been a wonderful lover; with a little practice, he'd be downright devastating. And he was fun. He was also the Commander's son - oh, this was disaster, pure and simple. There had been a few times when Adama had told him that he thought of him as a son. If he found out that Starbuck had slept with Apollo - well, that could just never happen. This could never be allowed to happen again. What had he been thinking? What in Hades had Apollo been thinking? Obviously, neither of them had been thinking, except with their pricks. Starbuck stifled a panicky sob and tried to extricate himself from the tangle of Apollo's arms and legs.
"What's wrong, Star?" Apollo asked sleepily, cuddling even closer. "Bad dream?"
"Bad, but not a dream. Let me up!" He struggled against Apollo's embrace. "I have to pee!" he lied.
Apollo released him, and Starbuck almost ran to the turbowash. Since he was there anyway, he relieved himself, then washed his hands and splashed cold water on his face. The man in the mirror looked as though he were running from the Hounds of Hades, instead of a man who'd had the best sex of his life just a few centars ago. 'Calm down, Bucko,' he told himself. For Sagan's sake, it wasn't as though he were trying to escape an overly-clingy woman; this was just Apollo. Just Apollo, his best friend, who knew him better than anyone else ever had. 'Right, Bucko,' he whispered to the mirror. 'He sure does know you better than anyone else now, if he didn’t before. Frack!" Apollo would understand that it would be better if he went back to the BOQ now, rather than before patrol, when everyone would be awake. Wouldn't he?
Starbuck needed his clothes, and he wanted to clean his teeth. He rinsed his mouth and drank some water, using a little paper cup from a dispenser beside the faucet. For some reason, his brain dredged up an image of Apollo holding Boxey up to the 'fresher so he could perform his ablutions before going to bed. Now there was a stool under the 'fresher for Boxey, but for a while there, Apollo had patiently lifted the boy and balanced him on his knee. Starbuck sighed. Just one more reason that this couldn't happen again. Apollo was an exemplary father and should have children of his own. Of course, Starbuck knew that if he ever voiced such a thought, Apollo would snarl at him that Boxey was his own son.
Well, it had been a glimpse of a dream-come-true, anyway. Starbuck opened the door, prepared to sneak back into the bedroom, find his clothes, and quietly leave.
Apollo was waiting at the turbowash door. He stood there naked, arms crossed over his nicely-sculpted chest. He smiled. "My turn." He didn't even bother to close the door as he used the turboflush, Starbuck noticed as he tried to hunt down his clothes. He heard the water running - Apollo washing his hands, he guessed. Where in Hades were his clothes? He found his boots, but no clothes.
"What are you looking for, Bucko?"
"My clothes," Starbuck replied sullenly.
"We have almost four centars until patrol," Apollo pointed out. "Get back in bed."
"You hid my clothes!" Starbuck accused, realizing even as he said it, that it was true. "Frack it, you hid my clothes!"
"Frack, yes, I did, Bucko!" There was no remorse in Apollo's tone. "I'm not stupid. How many yahrens have I listened to you telling stories of how you frack women's brains out and then sneak away while they're sleeping? I was hoping that you wouldn't feel the need to do that with me, but apparently it's become a bad habit." Apollo smiled. "I live to annoy you about your bad habits, didn't you know that?"
Starbuck groaned. "You have a mean streak, Apollo. Did I ever tell you that?"
"You told me that Athena was the one with the mean streak, not me."
"I've reconsidered. Apollo, you know that it's going to look bad if I don't go back - "
"Felgercarb! In the yahrens that you've served aboard the Galactica, how often have you slept elsewhere than in the BOQ?"
"Well, you have a point, but I've never slept with my commanding officer before." Starbuck took a bracing breath. "Apollo, this can't work. We can't just fly into - well, we can't just break all the rules. The Commander - "
"What were you going to say, Starbuck. We can't fly where? Into a Cylon baseship? Sure we can, and we have. The Commander doesn't monitor every relationship I have - just the ones that might lead to a Sealing. My father knows that we're close friends; he wouldn't think anything was amiss if you stayed with me in my quarters from time to time."
"He would if you had me in your quarters and asked him or Athena to take Boxey for the night." Starbuck began to feel cold; only the Life Center maintained what he considered a livable temperature.
"That's true, but I don't think there's a problem with you staying here while Boxey is here, too." Apollo noticed his wingman's slight shiver and, without a second thought, took him in his arms. "We'll think of some explanation. Boxey adores you." He nuzzled Starbuck's neck. "Like son, like father. Please come back to bed."
Apollo was almost begging, and Starbuck couldn't let him do that. He slid under the covers and felt Apollo settle behind him, gathering him close, snuggling. Once again, he sensed the rightness of it.
"I'm sorry, Pol," he whispered. "I shouldn't have tried to leave." It was easier to talk this way, in the dark, with no space between them.
"I'm sorry you felt that you had to," Apollo said. "I wasn't that bad as a lover, was I?"
Starbuck nudged his buttocks back against Apollo's groin. "Gods, no!" he chuckled. "Didn't you hear me moaning and screaming? I don't do that for just anyone. In fact, I don't do that at all. I have a reputation as a rather silent lover."
"Really?" Apollo sounded vastly pleased with himself. "Then admit we're good together and you were an idiot for trying to leave."
"You know, Pol, you're awfully arrogant sometimes. I don't want to encourage that trait." He drew Apollo's arm tighter around him. "I'll admit though, being close like this feels right."
"Of course it does. Because it is."
The BOQ fell silent when Starbuck walked in half a centar before his patrol. He was wearing the same clothes he had on in the OC for the Pinochle games, but his hair was wet as though he'd just come from a turboshower. There was no question in anyone's mind as to where he'd spent the night. From his perch atop one of the upper bunks, Jolly watched as Starbuck opened his locker and started to change into his pressure suit and uniform. It wasn't unusual for Bucko to come into the BOQ after a sleep period spent in a lover's bed, but this time there was no jaunty whistling, no boasting, no graphic stories.
"Well, Bucko, did you get any sleep?" Giles was brash enough to ask what was on all of the pilots' minds. Jolly shook his head in disbelief.
Starbuck looked down at the smaller man as though he hadn't heard the question. "Hey, Giles, did you win any games last night?" he asked with a pleasant smile.
"Yes we did!" Giles bristled. "If it hadn't been for the luck of the cards, you and the Captain wouldn't have been able to beat us." Jolly doubted it. With a grunt, he descended from his bunk.
Starbuck smiled tolerantly. "It was skill, Giles. Pure skill."
Giles shook his head. "You know, some of us think maybe you and the Captain can read each other's minds."
That made Starbuck laugh. "If that were true, I would have pulled better grades in History at the Academy."
"So, how's your back? Did you sleep on the modular seat again?" Greenbean asked in a whisper, even though all the pilots were crowded around Starbuck and could hear everything that was said.
Starbuck held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "You guys are worse than any group of females I've ever known when it comes to gossip! Why all the interest in where I slept?"
"Because we think you should be happy," young Cree answered with a total lack of guile. "And the Captain, too."
Starbuck's eyes sought out Jolly in the knot of pilots. The plea for help was clear.
"Can't you tell Bucko is hungover?" Jolly elbowed his way forward. "Give him a break, guys! He has to get ready for patrol, and he only has seventeen centons. He can tell us about his love life later."
Starbuck stomped into his boots and grabbed his belt, buckling it around the slim waist that Jolly so envied. "Thanks," he said under his breath.
"Boomer's in the Duty Office," Jolly said, holding out Starbuck's flight jacket.
Boomer looked up from the monitor when Starbuck walked in. "Hey, Bucko." His greeting was the same as always. Thank the Lords!
"I just escaped from that pack of wild daggits in the BOQ," Starbuck complained. "Boomer, I'm afraid I've made an awful mistake."
"Apollo?"
Starbuck nodded. "This isn't - I mean, I'm not right for him. Setting aside the fact that I'm not a woman and can't give him heirs - "
Boomer waved his hands in front of Starbuck's face. "Whoa! What the frack are you thinking, Bucko? Heirs to what? A hunk of metal traveling through space?" The dark eyes glanced toward the open door. "He'll be here any centon before heading down to the Launch Bay. So let me give you a few things to think about while you're on patrol. One: Blue Squadron is not going to cause you or Apollo any trouble. Most of 'em thought you two were a pair before this. Actually so did I. Two: You have a right to be happy. Apollo has a right to be happy. If you're happy together, why should anyone have a problem with that? Three: If you don't give this thing between you and Apollo a fair chance, I am personally going to make sure that you two are locked in a storage closet together for an indefinite period of time, until you come to your senses!"
"You wouldn't!" Starbuck chuckled.
"Try me." Boomer didn't crack a smile. Starbuck raised an eyebrow, thinking of what Boomer had said earlier in his little tirade.
"You thought - you thought we had something going between us before? When? While I was seeing Athena and Cassie? While he was married to Serina?" Starbuck was shocked.
"No - back at the Academy. I thought you two were off-and-on lovers then. After Serina died, I thought maybe you'd started up again. Definitely after the incident with Ortega, I thought for sure…"
"No. No and no!" Starbuck ran his fingers through his hair. "Gods, Boomer, just last night - and I'm having a bad influence on him already! He didn't close the door when he went to the turboflush! You know how modest he's always been."
The dark lieutenant flung his head back and howled. "You call that a bad influence? Bucko, you couldn't be a bad influence on him if you tried! He needs to loosen up some, and you've always been the one to keep him from turning into a regulations book."
"What about regulations?" Apollo ducked into the Duty Office and tapped Starbuck on the shoulder. "We're going to be late, Bucko. Everything under control, Boomer?"
"Everything that I can control is under control, Captain," Boomer assured him. "That doesn't include your wingman, however."
"Leave that to me, Boom-Boom."
"I thought this was going to be an advance probe patrol," Starbuck commented after Apollo had described his plans for backtracking to check for following Cylons.
"Giles and Cree are handling the advance probe. After Dietra's report, and the Cylons that Silver Spar encountered during the last patrol, I just want to make sure. We passed a group of small planets just three centars ago. Could be there's a baseship hiding among them."
"Lovely. So we're looking for trouble. Maybe Boomer should have come along for some fun."
"He's tending shop - it's on the duty roster, and I didn't want to change it. Jolly, Greenbean, and Brie will be following behind us, just within our scanner range. If we see anything, we turn tail and run - got that? We'll lead them right to our reinforcements. I don't expect we'll see a lot of Cylons. I think Green took care of most of them. Silver Spar only saw three Raiders last patrol."
"And took 'em all out, I suppose. But if there's a baseship, there'll be more." Starbuck switched to their private channel. "When did you have time to come up with this little gem of a plan, Captain?"
"While you were in the turboshower. You don't like the idea?"
"Not particularly. And sending Giles and Cree out together ? Lords, I don't know what kind of trouble they'll get themselves into! Neither one has more than a speck of sense."
"You're being unfair, Starbuck. Cree has developed quite nicely since learning his lesson on Arcta. He's grown up quite a bit. Thanks to you, he's had a chance to do that."
Starbuck snorted. "At least he's stopped following me around like a daggit. I never wanted to be anybody's hero."
Apollo's chuckle sounded metallic. "That's too bad, Bucko. You're Cree's hero, Cassie's hero, Boxey's hero, and mine - several times over."
"That doesn't make me fit to be your - your lover," Starbuck mumbled. Apollo had to stop this - this acting so besotted with him. It was embarrassing, and unjustifiable.
"It doesn't? What exactly makes you unfit to be my lover?"
He hadn't meant Apollo to hear him, but he had. Apollo's response was cast out as a challenge, and Starbuck picked up the gauntlet. "You want reasons? I'll give you reasons. I'm an orphan with no family, no lineage, no proper breeding or upbringing. I'm just not of your class." Starbuck knew what Apollo's argument was going to be. He wasn't disappointed.
"Since the Destruction, that kind of thing doesn't matter so much, in case you hadn't noticed," Apollo said. "And it never mattered to me. You know that." Funny how, out here in space, they spoke with the practiced dispassion of Viper pilots; if they'd been back on the Galactica, they would have been shouting by now.
"It matters to your father and possibly Athena. I know Athena considered that she was 'slumming' by dating me. But I have other reasons, Pol. You yourself have found fault with my character in the past, and you're right. I'm selfish, lazy except in pursuit of my own pleasure, and rather unscrupulous. I lie if it suits me, I cheat at cards occasionally, I take advantage of people -"
"Right, Bucko. You're so selfish that you spend time reading to orphans; so lazy you manage to get yourself assigned to a dangerous mission just so you have a chance to save Cree's life; so unscrupulous that you refuse to admit to terminating Ortega in self-defense, even though you know that the chances of proving your innocence are almost non-existent. So you're not perfect. Don't you think I've done my share of lying? I'd lie and cheat more if I were any good at it. And you don't even come close to me when it comes to taking advantage of people. Look at all the felgercarb I've dragged you and Boomer into over the yahrens. Lords of Kobol, Starbuck! I've been considering seducing you for sectars, and actively planning it for at least two sectons."
'Hmm, Apollo really means it,' Starbuck thought, hearing a trace of emotion in his captain's voice. "Really? I had no idea. Maybe I should give you some lessons before you attempt another seduction."
"Bucko, I have no intention of ever attempting another seduction." Apollo seemed very certain of that.
Starbuck didn't want him to harbor any illusions. "Face it, Pol, I suck at serious relationships."
"I hope so," Apollo said suggestively.
"Lords, are you flirting with me?" Watching Apollo with Serina had been a mortifying thing to see; how much worse would it be if - ? Oh no, Apollo in love would just be too embarrassing to even contemplate! Starbuck tried to imagine himself in Serina's place, the way she'd been while training as a Viper pilot: "Captain…I love you." At the time, Starbuck had thought that Apollo was going to choke with either humiliation or anger. Starbuck himself had wanted to vomit.
"Maybe. Do you mind?"
"Out here, no. It might confuse the Cylons. Back there - well, Giles and Greenbean were asking - um, personal questions about how and where I slept. And then Boomer threatened me. Actually he threatened both of us."
"Did he?" Apollo chuckled. "With what?"
"Locking us together in a closet. If I didn't give you a chance."
"Good man, Boomer. So, are you going to give me a chance? Give us a chance?"
Starbuck sighed. "I want to, Pol. But I won't let you ruin your career and cause problems with your family because of me." Why couldn't Apollo understand that he was irrevocably defiled? Not only because of Siress Natanya, but because of his own excesses. His reputation for debauchery was pervasive throughout the Fleet, and well-deserved. "A liaison with me can only mean that a lot of people are going to lose respect for you. That might not be clear to you now, because, for some reason, Blue Squadron seems to want us to be together, but it's not going to be so easy with the rest of the squadrons, or with Ops, or the rest of the Fleet. You're going to hear things about me that'll make you cringe at the very least."
"I've heard a lot about your wild behavior, Starbuck. Most of it is rather amusing."
"You've only heard the abridged versions, then."
"Fine, so I'll have a lot of confessions to hear while we're on patrol. It should keep things lively. So, is Boomer going to have to lock us in a closet or not?"
"This isn't funny, Apollo! Can't we just kind of see how things go for a while? The more we talk about it, the more nervous I get." A blip on the scanner caught Starbuck's eye. "Speaking of nervous, take a look at your scanners - you see that thing up ahead?"
"Looks like just one ship - no, it's not moving. Not in the Warbook either. Let's try for an oblique approach - just until we can get a visual read on it."
Starbuck followed, a knot beginning to form in his stomach. He knew that feeling; it meant that something bad was going to happen. "Apollo, don't get too close to that thing."
Starbuck's warning had barely made it across the comlink when a thin yellowish streak came hurtling toward them from the unknown mass, and attached itself to Apollo's Viper. It had no real substance, or at least none detectable by the scanners, yet it seemed to firmly lock onto the Viper's hull just behind the canopy. Starbuck engaged his turbos and veered away. He could see that Apollo was trying to do the same, but the rope-like beam would not release its hold.
"Holy Frack!" Starbuck swore. He could hear similar language coming from Apollo. He fired his lasers across the beam, but nothing happened. He tried again. Nothing.
He was getting ready to fly right through it to break its hold when Apollo's voice barked across the comlink. "Don't you dare go near that beam, Lieutenant! That's an order!"
"Apollo!" As a one-word protest of all the orders Apollo'd ever given that Starbuck hadn't agreed with, it was pretty effective. But he couldn't allow his wingman to sacrifice himself. The beam was drawing the Viper in toward the unidentified mass that the scanners had picked up. Slowly, but he was moving toward it.
"Apollo, listen to me." Starbuck's voice was perfectly calm and utterly determined. "This thing has to be some kind of - of grappling mine. Kind of like the ones that the sanitation collectors used to put out around Caprica to catch any stray debris. This one could be Cylon, maybe not. As long as I stay right behind you, it isn't going to know to cast out another beam."
"What about as I get pulled in closer to it, Bucko? Its detection devices might be more sensitive then. It's too dangerous for you to fly in my shadow. Why don't you go back far enough to signal to Jolly, Greenbean and Brie, and maybe the four of you can think of something."
"You could be dead by then. We don't know what this thing is going to do to you as you get closer! It could be - ready to melt you down as scrap metal. If I get close enough to fire a few laser volleys into it, maybe I can deactivate it."
"Maybe." Apollo didn't sound convinced. "If you could just pry off my side panel, the rest of my Viper could get away."
"Yeah, and if we could make it identify your Viper as a Cylon Raider, it might let you go. But I don't think I have time to reprogram any signals."
"You could do that, huh? Why am I not surprised? You always were good at hiding your talents."
"I'm not leaving you, Pol." Starbuck kept his Viper carefully behind Apollo's, so that he wouldn't be detected by the mine or whatever it was.
"I guess it wouldn't do any good to give you a direct order, would it?" Apollo tried hitting the turbos one more time, then engaged reverse thrusters. The beam held him fast.
"Nope. I would just disregard it. And then you'd have to put me on report when we get back - could make things difficult for you. You know, being overwhelmed with gratitude and having to discipline me at the same time. You'd just end up feeling guilty." Starbuck didn't mention that if one or both of them failed to return, disobeying orders would become a moot point.
"You're right. I'm recommending that you go back, Star."
"I'll pass on that, lover. I'm not letting you out of my sight."
Apollo chuckled. "Nice to hear you admit it finally, Bucko. If - when we get back, I'm not letting you make any more excuses."
"I won't - if we're quiet and sensible about it. It's a private thing, after all."
"Agreed." Apollo wasn't sure when Starbuck's love life had ever really been private - not when he'd been dating women, at least.
"You won't hear me saying 'I love you, Captain' in front of the whole squadron," Starbuck warned.
"I can live with that, as long as you love me when we're alone."
Starbuck blinked the mist from his eyes. "As long as you want me to, Pol. I'm going to scramble a com to Jolly. See if they're within range. At least we can warn them off before they get too close."
"OK. I'll check the scanners again and see if I can get any more data on this mine."
They were just coming up with things to do while they moved closer to the grappling mine; both men were fairly certain Jolly wouldn't be within range yet. Apollo didn't really want an audience for his death, but he was scared enough not to want to face it alone. Thank the Lords for Starbuck. On the other hand, he didn't want Starbuck to die with him.
"No response from Jolly," Starbuck sighed.
"The mine is primarily metal alloy, and is 1.8 metrics in diameter - rather small for a grappling mine. Would the Cylons bother with anything that small?"
"Who knows? Could be left over from some outpost that was conquered by the Cylons." Starbuck thought he could see a vague speck in the distance, but he didn't want to move too far out of alignment with Apollo to get a better look. "Can you see it yet, Apollo?"
"I thought it would be spherical, for some reason, but the shape is irregular." Apollo flipped the switches on his control panel. "Look at your scanner, Bucko. It's got quite a few ships stuck to it. I guess mine will be next."
"Not if I can help it," Starbuck muttered. "I wonder how many beams this thing can throw out? We do know that it can't throw a second beam through metal - otherwise I'd be caught too. So the places where ships are already stuck might be safe zones."
"I hate it when you think out loud, Star - did I ever tell you that? You used to whisper to yourself in Tactics and Strategy class and it drove me crazy."
"I never knew that it bothered you. Half the class used to whisper to themselves and only my whispering drove you crazy?"
"Well, of course, Star! I only cared about what you were saying."
"How touching. Anyone else and I'd think they were cheating. I'm right about the safe zones."
"You might be, but how can you get to a safe zone without crossing over an unsafe zone? And once you're there, what are you going to do?" Apollo was skeptical, but a glimmer of hope illuminated his despair.
"Remember that game called Mace, that some of us used to play at the Academy?"
"The one with all those balls that you had to hit against each other to make various configurations? Yeah, I remember - I was bad at it."
Starbuck laughed. "You were, but I wasn't. If we're lucky, there'll be a few fairly large ships stuck to this mine, and if I can get into a safe position to fire my lasers from, I might be able to blast a big enough piece of a ship in front of the beam that's locked onto you."
"That's a lot of 'ifs', Bucko."
"It's the best chance we've got. Unless you think we'll be able to blast the whole mine to bits. I'm sure it'll have shields, and we could just end up incinerating ourselves."
"You're probably right," Apollo sighed. "Star, I just want to let you know that if this doesn't work, I don't want you to blame yourself. If I don't make it back I want you to watch over Boxey - make sure that Athena and my father don't fill his head with nonsense, and - "
"Stop it, Pol," Starbuck snapped. "You are not going to die." He switched off their private channel and tried to hail Jolly again. "Blue Three, do you read? Blue Three, this is Blue Two. Do you read?"
"I read, Starbuck." It was a shaky communication, but audible. Starbuck could hear Apollo's exhalation of relief.
Apollo took over then, and briefed Jolly on the situation. "Contact the Galactica for reinforcements - send Brie back within comm distance if you're already out of range. We're going to need all three of you here and ready to fight off any Cylons that might show up to perform housekeeping on this mine. But you've got to stay at a safe distance. I'll send the coordinates." After Jolly signed off, Apollo switched back to their private channel. "They should be here within a centar."
"At least they'll be able to keep any Raiders off our tails while we're trying to get you free. We're almost close enough to see where the safe zones might be." Starbuck dropped a bit below Apollo's Viper so he could see better. "You see any ports where the beams might come from?"
"No, not yet. I see at least four ships off to our left about 25 to 30 degrees. They're right smack up against the mine. I don't think anyone's checked this mine for quite a while or there wouldn't be so many ships."
"That could be a good thing." Starbuck hoped it meant the Cylons - or whoever owned the mine - wouldn't be by any time soon.
"The largest of the ships is about 3 maxims long. And yes, I see two beam ports. Both to our right." He described the port positions to Starbuck.
"Then the safe zone is going to be to our left." Starbuck checked his scanners, evaluating the positions of the other ships. He'd have to make his move quickly, before Apollo's Viper got too close to the mine. "I'm going for it now, Apollo. Give me a kiss for luck!"
"Starbuck! No!" Apollo cried. His wingman didn't listen. He hadn't expected he would. On his scanner, he could see Starbuck's Viper edge out to the left behind him, quickly aligning itself with one of the smaller ships. Nothing happened. No beam hurled itself toward Starbuck's Viper. Apollo heaved a huge sigh of relief, his heart thudding violently inside his ribcage. He could hear Starbuck laughing in triumph. "Bucko, I'm putting it on your record that you almost precipitated cardiac arrest in your CO. Here's your kiss." He made a little smooching noise.
Starbuck laughed even more at that - Apollo kissing him over the comlink! He'd never have imagined that in a million yahrens! "Thanks, Captain. Now, I'm going in close, and with any luck, I'll blast a piece of something in the path of the beam that's holding you."
As Starbuck approached the mine, he could see that it was a smooth, round mass of dull grey metal, with many ships adhered to its surface at a variety of odd angles. The one that he was aligned with looked very much like the ship Robber had left him with after stealing the Recon Viper. It was stuck at a right angle to the mine, with its nose aimed toward him. He couldn't help making a sound of dismay when he drew close enough to see inside the canopy.
"Um, I think you're right that it's been some time since anyone performed housekeeping on this mine," he told Apollo. "This one's pilot - is a skeleton."
"Frack, Starbuck! I didn't need to know that!" Apollo protested.
"Sorry. Now, since his ship is at almost a 90 degree angle to the mine, I could try blasting it in half. Or I could try with the one that's alongside 'cause it's a little bigger. If I try the little one first, I'll get a second chance with the other, using the third and fourth ships as my shield. I just have to direct my lasers at the proper angle."
"Starbuck."
"Yes?"
"If I feel the beam release me, I'm heading right back out along this vector - at top speed. You do the same along the vector of your safe zone. Got that?"
"Yes, Captain. Ready?"
"Go ahead, Star." Apollo flung a tiny, wordless prayer into the vastness of space.
Starbuck got into position, aiming at a point toward the tail of the skeletal pilot's ship. He wasn't sure if he believed in invocations of the dead, but he decided it couldn't hurt. He'd try anything to save Apollo's life. "I don't know who you are, buddy," he addressed the dead pilot, "but if you want some revenge, could you help us out?" He pressed the Fire button.
As if in slow motion, the nose and fuselage of the small ship exploded away from the tail, and gracefully floated into the path of the beam that held Apollo's Viper captive. The beam caught fast onto the front of the wreckage and pulled it in against the mine.
With Apollo's whoop of joy nearly deafening him, Starbuck turned and hit the turbos. Silently, he thanked the dead pilot. "I'm on my way out," he said. Neither he nor Apollo spoke another word until they were well clear of the mine.
"We did it!" Starbuck yelled, then. He felt as if he'd been holding his breath forever.
"You did it!" Apollo corrected. He laughed somewhat unsteadily. "See, once again, you're my hero. And I don't want to hear another fracking word about your being unfit or unworthy of anything!"
"A thank you would be sufficient," Starbuck said dryly.
"Thank you. Now, not another word! Or I'll tell Boomer to lock us in that storage closet."
"I'm not arguing, Apollo! Does the invitation to dinner still stand?"
"It certainly does - and after dinner, too."
"I'm not sure I can wait that long. The storage closet sounds pretty good about now."
"Doesn't it?" Apollo switched over to Blue's channel to notify Jolly that all was well.
After decontamination, Apollo and Starbuck went up to the bridge to report the incident with the grappling mine to the Commander and Colonel Tigh.
"So you don't think the mine was set by the Cylons?" Tigh asked.
"We've seen Cylon presence in the area, and we encountered a few on the return trip, but they don't seem to be maintaining the mine," Apollo said. "Whatever gets caught just stays there. But there could be other mines ahead of us."
"A danger to our Vipers and smaller ships in the Fleet." Adama frowned. "You brought back data on this mine that could be programmed into the Warbook, I presume?"
Apollo nodded. "We'll get it to Dr. Wilker immediately."
"Yes, you do that." Adama squeezed his son's shoulder and turned to his wingman. "Starbuck, thank you," he said sincerely. "I'm glad Apollo has such a resourceful friend and wingman."
"I'm glad I was good at Mace at one time," Starbuck replied. He didn't meet the Commander's eyes, afraid that Adama would see more than he wanted him to see.
"I hear you and Apollo aren't bad at Pinochle either."
"We're learning," Apollo said modestly. "It's a challenging game - and more fun than Pyramid, if you ask me."
"Yes, more of a game of skill," Adama agreed, glancing at Tigh. "Apollo, I think that you and Starbuck need some down time after the scare you've just had. Boxey can stay with me over Sleep Period. You boys can have a few drinks and maybe play some Pinochle to unwind."
"That would be nice," Apollo said evenly. "Thank you, Father. We'll go see Dr. Wilker, then I'll pick up Boxey from Athena's and bring him to you. After what happened, I need to give him a few big hugs." He smiled. "And tell him what a hero his Uncle Starbuck is."
Starbuck blushed.
"Lords, I thought Dr. Wilker would never shut up!" Apollo complained as they headed to the OC. It was Starbuck who insisted that they put in an appearance at the OC; he thought anything else would seem rude and almost indecent.
"I thought you would never shut up, Pol! Don't you think you embellished the story a bit when you told it to Boxey and Athena? And maybe you shouldn't have mentioned the dead pilot's skeleton. Boxey could have nightmares for sectons."
"That's why I called the skeleton Dusty. Makes him less macabre, don't you think?" Apollo glanced at his wingman. "Why am I asking you? You're the one who was talking to him there for a while."
Starbuck shrugged. "It just seemed like the right thing to do. And I think Dusty helped us."
"It makes for a better story, anyway," Apollo admitted as they entered the OC. "I just -"
They were greeted by a raucous cheer from the Blue Squadron pilots, joined by at least half of Green, and representatives from Gold, Orange, and Grey. Red and Purple were on patrol and Silver Spar still generally kept to themselves. Starbuck noticed that Sheba, in particular, seemed annoyed.
Jolly and Giles came up to them with mugs of ale, and they were pulled and prodded toward the table where most of Blue sat - their usual corner table, except that someone had removed the offensive domed light fixture.
Boomer stood to let them take their usual seats. He was grinning from ear to ear. "We heard most of what happened from Jolly," Boomer told them. "Sounds like I was lucky to be in the Duty Office!"
"We want the real story!" Sorrell cried. "Blue got to hear some of it, but Green didn't!"
Apollo silenced the clamoring by lifting both hands. "All right, all right! I'll tell the whole thing again - even though I scare myself half to death each time I tell it."
"Right, Apollo - you scare me silly every time you talk about that frackin' skeleton," Starbuck added. "At least you didn't have to look it in the eye - or, um, eyesockets."
Somehow the story became longer than it took to live through the actual incident, and more ales and grogs appeared. The table got more and more crowded, until Starbuck felt like he was deliberately being pushed into Apollo's lap. Apollo wasn't helping, either. He had one hand under Starbuck's left cheek - and not the one of the cheeks visible above the table. Talk had turned to speculation about who had set the grappling mine and how long poor Dusty had been dead. It amazed Starbuck to hear how gruesome the imaginations of the fairer sex could become.
"It would have been really tragic if Apollo had died," Greenbean said earnestly. "After you and he finally - well, you know." The tall pilot took a gulp of his grog and gave Starbuck a rather loopy grin. "A lot of the guys thought you two had already been - close, but the rest of us have been wondering when you'd actually get together."
"Greenbean! Can't you see that you're making Starbuck uncomfortable?" Brie piped up, poking the tall pilot in the ribs with her sharp little elbow. She leaned across Greenbean. "I did want to congratulate you, though, Starbuck. I think you and Apollo just look so darling together."
Starbuck winced. He was grateful that he'd never slept with Brie. He forced himself to smile. "Thanks. I'm not sure that 'darling' is a word I'd ever use to describe Apollo."
"Starbuck!" Greenbean exclaimed in shock. "That's not a nice thing to say about your - your sweetie."
Thank the Lords Apollo was deep in conversation with Boomer, Giles, Cree and a group of others off to his left. If Apollo heard Greenbean and Brie, no doubt he would launch into a falsetto discussion of valcron curtains or something equally embarrassing. "You must be drunk, Bean. Take a good look at Apollo and then tell me he looks like anyone's darling."
Greenbean squinted at Apollo, who was making expressive, but very masculine gestures as he spoke. "Well, Bucko, maybe he doesn't look all that darling after all. And he sure does have a nasty temper at times. But he always looked like he was yours."
"Aw, Greenbean, that's such a cute thing to say," Brie giggled. "He's right, Starbuck. Or maybe you look like his." She nudged her tall companion. "We'd better stop teasing him, Greenbean. He's turning a funny color."
"I just need some air," Starbuck lied. "It's getting a bit crowded in here." He surveyed his possible escape routes. "Apollo!" he hissed. But Apollo was answering a question that Giles had asked, and responded only with a slight squeeze of his hand. Starbuck shoved at Greenbean. "Guys, move over and let me out. I want a smoke." Apollo pricked up his ears at that. His eyes narrowed, but he refrained from comment.
Starbuck crawled over Greenbean and Brie, leaning on Brie's head for balance. Jolly stood to let him squeeze by, and several other pilots moved out of his way. He caught Boomer's eye and both of them headed for the opposite corner of the OC, which was totally vacant. All of the fifty or sixty-odd pilots in the OC were crowded around Blue's corner. Starbuck lit his fumarello.
"Glad you and Apollo made it back, buddy," Boomer said, with simple affection. "I mean it."
"Thanks." Starbuck blew out a ring of smoke. "It was frightening there for a while. But I had lots of time to think."
"Is that a good thing?" Boomer asked, straight-faced.
"Well, I guess it depends on how badly you wanted to lock me in a storage closet with Apollo." Starbuck tried to catch a glimpse of his beloved captain through the crowd. "I don't think it'll be necessary - unless we can't get a micron to ourselves otherwise."
"I knew you'd see reason eventually," Boomer chuckled. "You should save yourself the trouble and just listen to your old friend Boomer once in a while."
"I just don't want Apollo to have any problems because of me. And I don't want to expose Boxey to anything that will - cause him trouble or make him unhappy."
"Apollo can take care of himself, you know, Bucko. He's a big boy. He knows what he wants, and it's you. And Boxey - he loves his Uncle Starbuck. He won't mind if you're around more."
Starbuck gave Boomer a playful glare. "Lords, Boom-Boom, when did you become the wise old sage? And while you're at it, try dispensing some advice to yourself and ask Dietra for a date. What's the worst that can happen? If she's not interested, she'll politely decline. Hey, even I've been turned down a few times."
Boomer's eyes widened. "Really? That's hard to believe."
Starbuck gestured magnanimously. "Life goes on, Boomer. And if you're persistent, maybe the answer'll be yes the next time."
"Maybe." Boomer didn't seem convinced; Starbuck knew that Boomer wasn't going to find the courage to approach Dietra any time soon. He made a mental note to find out how Dietra felt about Boomer. Matchmaking wasn't something he did often, but it held a certain appeal: manipulation in one of its finest forms. "So, Bucko, what the frack are you and Apollo still doing here if the Commander has Boxey for the night?"
"Excellent question." Starbuck puffed a smoke ring over Boomer's head. "My idea was to put in an appearance here for a few centons, have a couple drinks, tell everyone about our adventure, then claim to be tired and head off to bed. Apollo doesn't seem to be in any hurry." He frowned. "Should I be insulted, Boomer?"
"If Apollo's hand was where I thought it was back at the table - no."
Starbuck considered that for a micron or two. "Well, maybe not. Or maybe I should be insulted that he feels free to - to grope me. Would he have done that to a woman?"
Boomer let out a sigh of exasperation. "Do you want him to treat you the way he treated Serina?" He shook his head. "I think not, Bucko. If Serina were still alive, she'd be fighting him to keep some sort of independence. And no, he'd never grope a woman in public - not even under a table. Tell you what - I'd bet he'd never try a single spontaneous, romantic thing with a woman."
Starbuck bit his lip. "You're probably right. Spontaneity isn't one of Apollo's strong suits."
A hand fell on Starbuck's shoulder. "Finding fault with me already, Bucko?" Apollo's other hand was on Boomer's shoulder. "I hope you're defending me, Boomer."
"Oh, no!" Boomer backed away, his hands in the air as though both Starbuck and Apollo had their blasters aimed at him. "If you two want to argue, you can just leave me out of it."
Apollo glanced at Starbuck. "Boomer's right. Let's go argue in private. My quarters?"
"See you later, Boom-Boom!" Starbuck waved to the crowd of pilots and winked at the dark lieutenant as he followed Apollo out of the OC.
The corridors were empty, thank the Lords. The air was much cooler outside of the OC also. Starbuck heaved a sigh.
"I'm glad that Athena fed us while we were at her place with Boxey," Apollo said. "I really didn't want to wait for a meal. No doubt we would have been dragged into a few games of Pinochle - which would be fine tomorrow, but not now. Did you mind that we left?"
"Mind? Are you kidding? Brie thinks we make a darling couple, Greenbean insinuated that the guys were betting on when we'd finally get together, and you were groping my ass. Add to that the fact that I want to frack your brains out, and no - I don't mind that we left."
Apollo gave him a sidelong glance. "I wasn't groping your ass - at least, not at first. I was supporting you because you'd been pushed halfway off your chair. And they were betting on us - Greenbean won. Giles told me." He paused. "Will you?"
"Will I what?"
"Frack my brains out." They were at the door to his quarters and Apollo keyed in his code as he spoke. As soon as they were inside, the door closed behind them, Starbuck pulled Apollo into his arms and crushed him into a desperate hug.
"Anything you want, Pol," he whispered against his captain's neck. "Gods, I thought that I'd lost you!" The solid feel of Apollo, all masculine angles and muscle, was the most wonderful thing in the universe. And kissing him became an absolute necessity; tasting the heat of his mouth with compulsive thoroughness, capturing his moans along with his teasing tongue. Starbuck's hands reassured themselves by ferocious contact with Apollo's body, gripping shoulders, back, and buttocks. The clothes had to go. Oh yes, he was going to frack Apollo's brains out.
"I'm here," Apollo gasped, as soon as Starbuck's mouth left his for an instant. "Thanks to you, I'm here."
Somehow they found their way into the bedroom, shedding clothing along the way. Apollo couldn't seem to stop shaking - a delayed reaction to his near-death, he suspected. It happened sometimes; usually a few drinks and some punishing exercise helped him get through it. But now there was Starbuck to hold him. Apollo yielded to his wingman's fierce possessiveness, opening his mouth to his kiss, allowing himself to be maneuvered onto the bed. Starbuck's weight pinned him, his mouth everywhere, relentlessly devouring, tugging at his nipples - who knew they'd be so sensitive? - until he cried out in delighted agony.
"Sh, " Starbuck hushed him. "They're probably all outside the door." He soothed Apollo's nipples with felix-like laps of his tongue, then moved lower to make a swirling foray into his navel. Apollo groaned. Starbuck hushed him again, slid up his body to kiss his lips. Apollo had never much cared for kissing, he realized - not before Starbuck. Starbuck had always been the acknowledged expert when it came to kissing, and Apollo had watched him kiss countless women during the course of their friendship. He knew now why he'd always felt so annoyed; he'd wanted those kisses for himself. Instead, Starbuck had given him advice on kissing techniques. But the master wasn't using any of those subtle techniques now; he was plundering Apollo's mouth with all the finesse of a hormone-ridden sixteen-yahren-old. And Apollo loved it - loved knowing that Starbuck was so out of control.
"Gods, your mouth, Apollo!" Starbuck gasped, wrenching their lips apart reluctantly. "I can't get enough of the taste of you! "
"Good," Apollo chuckled, stroking his hands down his lover's sides, then around to cup his buttocks, drawing his body close. But Starbuck lifted himself away, slid down between Apollo's legs. His cock left a trail of moisture along Apollo's thigh.
"Not like that, Pol. I want to taste your gorgeous cock before I frack your brains out." Starbuck's hands caressed Apollo's legs apart, fondled his testicles with gentle reverence, and carefully applied pressure between scrotum and anus. Apollo's hips bucked upwards, and this time Starbuck didn't hush him. His mouth had descended on Apollo's cock, engulfing it in a single downstroke. Apollo shouted in pleasured disbelief, his climax bursting over him like a starshower.
When he opened his eyes, Starbuck was gazing down at him with a tiny smile of satisfaction on his lips. "Tasty," he said. "Like the finest spiced vignon."
"How?" Apollo hoped Starbuck would understand; he wasn't that far behind Starbuck's measurements.
"Practice." A hint of a shadow flickered behind the blue gaze. "Don't ask if you're afraid of the answer."
That shadow had no place in their bed, Apollo decided. He laughed. "I'm not complaining, Star. The benefits are all mine." He reached for the nightstand, found the jar of lubricating cream. "Now, about fracking my brains out," he whispered, slightly embarrassed. Of all the things he had imagined doing with Starbuck, this was the most forbidden - his guiltiest fantasy. Only Rhad had ever even touched the prohibited orifice, and then only as an enhancement to other pleasures. That wasn't to say that Apollo hadn't performed a few experiments of his own - but he'd rather die than admit that to anyone, even Starbuck. Maybe if they were still lovers fifty yahrens from now - or maybe not.
Starbuck took the jar from him, but didn't open it. "You sure you want this, Pol?"
Apollo reached down, stroking a finger along the underside of his wingman's straining cock. For all its size, it was somehow graceful, jutting proudly from the nest of dark blond curls. "I'm sure."
"Thank the Lords!" Starbuck exclaimed gratefully. "I'm ready to burst, just thinking about being inside you." The blue eyes were dark with passion and need. "Turn over onto your stomach. It's best for the first time." Starbuck helped him with coaxing hands, arranged a few pillows to elevate Apollo's hips. "Now just relax, and trust me." He kissed each raised buttock. "Gods, you have such a perfect ass, Apollo!"
"It's better than being one," Apollo chuckled. "Although I suspect I've had my moments."
"Yes, you have," Starbuck agreed. His strong hands stroked Apollo's back, kneading, attempting to release the tension. Then they moved to his buttocks, the heels of his hands massaging slowly. "Lords, you're tight! This would be a good time for some halennin."
"Some what?" Apollo asked.
"Halennin is an aphrodisiac of sorts." Starbuck's hands continued their slow caresses. "It's a purple oil that can be applied to various body parts to increase desire or overcome reluctance. It has its uses." His tone said that he didn't approve of most of them.
Apollo didn't even ask why Starbuck was familiar with a substance like that. "I'm not reluctant, Star. I'm just embarrassed - and a little scared."
"Oh, Pol!" Starbuck stretched out atop his lover, blanketing him, nuzzling his ear. "I'd never hurt you - not intentionally. And you shouldn't be embarrassed - nothing you could do would shock or repulse me. Next to me, you're as pure as one of the Holy Ancients!"
Apollo snorted. "Don't start with that, Bucko!" He lifted his hips against the solid ridge that was pressing inexorably against his ass. "Mmm, that feels nice. Weren't you nervous or embarrassed your first time?" He felt Starbuck's whole body stiffen. "You don't have to tell me, if it makes you uncomfortable, Star."
"I was too drunk to be nervous or embarrassed," Starbuck replied finally, relaxing a bit. This was Apollo, he reminded himself for the thousandth time. Apollo wasn't attacking him, or censuring him. Apollo was lying beneath him, willing to take him inside his body. Lords, he didn't deserve anything so wonderful as this! He kissed the side of his captain's face, rubbing himself like a felix along his lover's body. "I'd better stop. More of that and I'll come all over your back," he chuckled.
"If you want to, go ahead," Apollo offered.
"Oh, no! I want to come inside you, Pol. I want to fill you and make you moan."
"Yes," Apollo breathed.
And all at once Starbuck knew what his lover needed. He gave it gladly, whispering words and phrases that made Apollo shudder, relaxing him, leading him close to the edge. His fingers both soothed and aroused, opening the secret orifice, massaging the core of nerves inside until Apollo's hips were lifting urgently to his hand.
Smiling to himself, Starbuck applied some of the cream to his cock with his free hand, careful not to overstimulate the needy organ. He wished that he had a cock ring, but he hadn't wanted to alarm Apollo by flaunting his decadent past. If they spent enough time together, he was sure that he would run up against all kinds of limits and barricades, erected by Apollo's Kobolian upbringing. It would be a challenge to bring them down, one by one. For now, it was more than enough to watch Apollo accepting and seeking the invasion of his fingers, knowing that his cock would soon be embedded in that beloved body.
Apollo whimpered when Starbuck withdrew his fingers and grasped his hips. The fingers had felt so good and he was so close. So dazed with the most profane of pleasures. He heard Starbuck telling him to relax and open himself again, in that husky, sexy voice. Then the pressure began, the pressure of a blunt-tipped cock against his anus. The head made its way through the tight anal ring. Apollo tried to relax, then almost panicked, recalling how big Starbuck's cock actually was. His muscles clamped down and pain jolted through him. Immediately, Starbuck paused.
"Relax, Pol," Starbuck soothed. "We'll go slow. I'll wait for it to be comfortable for you. I won't move until you're ready." He stroked Apollo's sides and hips, gentling him, forcing his own breathing to slow. He tamped down his natural urge to just start thrusting. "Push back against me, Pol - the way you did when I had my fingers in you. That's it - oh gods, yes!"
Apollo had lifted himself to hands and knees. It was better this way, he decided. Much better to be able to push himself onto Starbuck's cock little by little, waiting for the pain to subside. His own cock had softened somewhat, but that elusive pleasure he had felt so briefly was calling to him. And Starbuck was encouraging him with those sensual, intimate phrases. When finally they were locked together, with scarcely a molecule between them, Apollo let out a shaky little laugh.
"Now you can frack my brains out, Star."
Much later, after the rhythm of their breathing had returned to normal, Apollo asked the question that had been preying on his mind since they left the OC.
"So - what are we supposed to be arguing about, Bucko?"
Starbuck, already drifting toward sleep, nuzzled Apollo's ear and cuddled him closer against his chest. "I don't remember."
"I'll ask Boomer if you don't tell me." Apollo's threat was only half-serious; he just wanted to make sure that Starbuck had no excuse to try to leave him again. He didn't think he would; Apollo had made sure he'd be too tired for that.
"It was just something about whether you'd ever grope a woman in public," Starbuck mumbled.
"Well, no, of course not!" Apollo replied indignantly.
"I was right, then. Not a single spontaneous bone in your body." Starbuck nibbled at the back of Apollo's neck.
Apollo wondered if he had any bones left in his body. As for spontaneity? He smiled. Well, wouldn't Starbuck be surprised!