BY YOUR COMMAND - Static ARCHIVE

"Based on what I've presented to you, you can understand that there are some difficult decisions to be made that could affect the future of humankind. I hope that the Council can find some creative solutions." Dr. Salik stepped off the podium.

"Thank you for addressing the Council, Dr. Salik," Adama said graciously. "If you don't mind, please take a seat in case we have further questions." He turned his solemn gaze on the other Council members. "This is a delicate topic, but one that we can't afford to ignore, although other issues may seem more imperative. Any suggestions, Councilors?"

Siress Tinia stood. "In regard to the initial issue that Dr. Salik brought up, if we want to make an attempt to solve the problem by first utilizing - natural methods, Commander, I believe that there is someone among your Warriors who would be considered eminently qualified."

"Indeed?" The Commander's dark brows rose toward his silver hair. "Qualified for precisely what, Siress?"

****

Apollo glanced toward the door to the OC and leaned closer to Boomer across the table.

"Quick, Boomer, tell me before he gets here - what's this Throttle-Back thing that everyone's talking about?"

"He who?" Boomer was ready to perform evasive maneuvers; Apollo could tell. If it had to do with Starbuck, or especially Apollo with the aforementioned Starbuck, Boomer would think that he should stay out of it. Especially now.

"Starbuck, of course!" Apollo trained his best 'won't-budge-a-micron' look on the dark lieutenant. "Tell me, Boomer!"

"I think it might be some sort of - of sexual position," Boomer said quickly, embarrassed. "It's just some fad or something that's got a lot of the girls giggling. You know - started in the civilian sector, and now we're hearing about it."

Apollo threw back his head and laughed. "I see. But I detect something Starbuck-esque about it, don't you think? What was it I heard last secton - Turn and Burn? Slow-Burn-and-Crash? What the frack is going on, Boomer? I know it's some kind of joke - and no one's telling me because I'm the Captain."

"I don't know, Apollo, but I don't think your being our Captain has a thing to do with it." Boomer held up his hands, whether in surrender or to ward off evil, Apollo wasn't certain. "I just know that I don't want to be involved."

Apollo thought about that for a centon. It couldn't be - no, Starbuck wouldn't be reverting to his old ways so soon, would he? Was Starbuck cheating? Or was he cheating. "Are you sure these aren't some elaborate Pyramid strategies, Boom-Boom?" Suspicion was dawning over an increasingly bleak landscape. "After the last time, I threatened to ground him in the duty office for two sectons if he lost more than fifty cubits of mine. What he does with his pay is his business, but that really burned my tail when he -"

"I know," Boomer said soothingly. "I've heard both sides of that domestic squabble, but I'm not a licensed relationship counselor, okay?

"I'm sorry, Boomer," Apollo sighed. "It's just that only Blue Squadron knows - about me and Starbuck, and besides Starbuck, you're my best friend -"

"Don't give me that look, Apollo," Boomer frowned. "You learned that from Starbuck, didn't you? Listen, Captain, people aren't blind. And if you ask me, it's time you had a little chat with your father. And maybe Athena and Boxey too. Unless, of course, this thing you and Starbuck have going is just a passby."

Apollo's jaw tightened. "I don't want it to be, Boomer. But, Starbuck's got a high drift factor in the relationship department." It had only been three sectons ago that he and Starbuck had acknowledged their yahrens-long attraction for each other, and become lovers. Apollo was fairly certain that Starbuck hadn't been with anyone else during that time, but if that were true, it'd be a record for Starbuck. They 'd been so busy trying to find times and places to be together that the issue of fidelity hadn't come up. Or they had diligently avoided it.

"But not in the friendship department," Boomer reminded him pointedly, interrupting Apollo's own drift of focus.

"No, you're right about that," Apollo agreed. He stood and put a few cubits on the table beside his nearly-untouched grog. "Pay for my drink, Boomer? I'm going to ask Athena about this Throttle-Back felgercarb."

****

"Theni, have a centon?" Apollo caught his sister as she was coming off bridge duty.

"Sure, what is it?" Athena looked concerned; she had always been able to read his agitation. "Want to follow me down to the Rejuv Center? I'm supposed to meet someone there."

Apollo fell into step beside her. "Anyone good?" He had noticed that Athena was acting more cheerful lately. Actually, she hadn't seemed this happy since she first started dating Starbuck. He glanced at her more closely, noting the tiny, felix-like smile. Starbuck wouldn't be dating Athena again, would he?

"Depends what you call good," she said airily. Apollo could tell that she was enjoying his discomfiture. "I call it good, though I wouldn't have several sectars ago. I guess I've matured since then. So what did you want to talk to me about?"

Good. It couldn't be Starbuck if Athena had matured, although Apollo wasn't sure what that said about him. Obviously, she was seeing someone whom she wouldn't have looked at twice had Starbuck been available.

"There have been these - rumors bouncing around like lasers in a revenue vault lately. Even the civs know about them - or maybe the rumors are coming from the civilian sector. I'm just getting a buzz here and a snicker there. And I know - I just know in my bone-marrow that it has something to do with Starbuck. Have you heard anything?"

"Um - " Athena kept walking toward the turbo-lift. "No." She pressed the button.

"You never heard of this Throttle-Back thing? Or the Moon Orbit? Let's see, I think I heard something about a Turbo Hum and a Barrel Roll, too. None of these 'terms' are setting off any klaxons?"

"Well, certainly - I was trained as a Viper pilot at one time, if you'll recall. Other than that - no."

"Sure." Apollo's disbelief was evident in his sardonic tone. He glowered at her. Unfortunately, Athena had stopped being intimidated by him since she'd turned four or five.

"Maybe they're dances or something," she suggested, somewhat feebly.

"Great!" Apollo snorted. "You think they're dances, Boomer thinks they're sexual positions, and I still think they're fancy names for Starbuck's new Pyramid strategies!"

Athena's brow wrinkled into a frown. "Boomer may be right," she said slowly.

Apollo's green eyes flew wide. If Boomer was right, then -- "Don't tell me that!" he barked. "It makes me want to kill him - slowly, using unimaginable implements of torture!" He realized that they were standing outside the Rejuvenation Center. He wasn't sure when they had arrived there.

"I don't think the Rejuv Center would have anything you could use for torture," Athena commented wryly. "Really, Apollo, don't kill Starbuck over me - if you want to kill him for other reasons, that's totally up to you."

Apollo fixed his sister with a gimlet-eyed stare. "You mean he never -" Actually, Starbuck had told him that he'd never slept with Athena, but he couldn't believe everything Starbuck said when it came to women. He'd never wanted to believe most of it, anyway.

Athena's fists settled onto her shapely hips. "What do you think I am - stupid?" she glared. "You do - you think I was so foolish as to let that - that gorgeous, mushie-mouthed snake in bed with me? That I would be so pathetic as to believe that someone like Starbuck would ever fall in love with me?" She shook her head. "I like him much better as a friend, specifically as your friend, Apollo. As your friend, he has a number of useful talents - the best of which is that he manages to keep you alive." She paused and considered. "I will say that the man can kiss - and if given the proper ingredients and easy instructions, he can cook. That's all I know."

Ah, yes, the man could kiss! Scarcely realizing that he did it, Apollo licked his lips.

Athena opened the door to the Rejuv Center and Apollo caught a glimpse of a dark head lifting to greet her. Omega? Was that fellow even capable of having fun? Apollo never would have guessed it.

****

Starbuck's thumbs worked magic on the back of Apollo's knotted shoulders. He groaned in heartfelt gratitude and leaned against the wall of the turbowash. Boxey was in school and they had about a centar before either of them would be missed.

"Oh, Bucko, that is - just heavenly!" The hot water drenched him, the steam carrying the unmistakable scent of Starbuck: flight-fuel, fumarello smoke, that foresty cologne he wore; collectively they made up the Starbuck-fragrance that always made Apollo feel both comfortable and exhilarated.

"I haven't even started yet, lover," Starbuck laughed. "I need to relax you first. Has your day been that stressful so far?"

"Not really - I'm just a little worried about some things that I need to catch up on. You know how I am." Apollo was quickly forgetting all about the Throttle-Back and the Launch Controller or whatever it was. He had decided not to confront Starbuck with any of it; if it wasn't against regulations, he really didn't want to know - at least, not now. The tension in his neck and shoulders was draining away under Starbuck's strong, soapy hands, although another type of tension was accumulating elsewhere. He would never get used to this, never. As long as he lived, he would never believe that he deserved this bright, sweet pleasure that Starbuck gave so freely. He felt his lover's arms come around him, gathering him close; felt the nudge of Starbuck's erection against his buttocks, and heard the whispered request that set his heart to leaping in an erratic, erotic rhythm. So forbidden, so darkly sensual, so undeniably impermissible - and Apollo craved it.

He whispered his reply. "Yessss!"

Slick fingers parted him, delved deep. Apollo's moan resonated in the turbowash, and he arched back against the tender invasion. This was something he had never expected, after all those long yahrens of wordless yearning. Starbuck, ever generous, made a sound of delight and encouragement.

"Open for me, Pol. Yes, that's it. More? Yes, relax and open for me. Nice, hmm?" Starbuck's litany was driving Apollo to utter distraction. This was something else he had never expected, that his friend would love him with words, too - scaldingly intimate phrases that coaxed forth the maximum response from his all-too-willing body. "You're so hot, Pol, so hot. Relax, lover, and let me - let me touch you inside. Yes, there! Ah, that's where you like it, isn't it?"

"Gods, yes!" Apollo cried, unable to contain his wild reaction. Unerring, Starbuck's fingers found the core of delight inside him, skimming over it with gentle pressure. "Please, Bucko, I need you!"

Starbuck nibbled the back of Apollo's neck, even as his fingers continued their slow assault. "I don't want to rush you, Pol. You're still new to this, and I want you to enjoy it."

Apollo let out a soft laugh of disbelief. "There's no chance I won't enjoy it, Bucko. Remember last time?" He reached back, trying to capture Starbuck's rampant erection, to draw it toward him. Oh yes, he craved this! He would worry about how wrong it was later.

"How could I forget?" Starbuck chuckled against Apollo's ear. "The memory is seared into my very soul, Pol. I mean it. I've never -"

"Hush, Starbuck!" Apollo admonished. No lies - not with me, Bucko. "Come inside me now, Star! Gods, I want this so badly, I'm shaking!"

In the end, not being able to stand any longer, he dropped to his knees on the wet steel floor of the turbowash, dislodging his lover's fingers. Starbuck followed him down, holding his hips, stilling him for the entry. A silent plea, a twinge of pain, the sting of soap, and then the smooth, incredible glide-in, deep and rich and so unimaginably there. Oh Lords of Kobol, there! Apollo's full-throated laugh of triumph was echoed by Starbuck's sharp exhalation. Abandoning all restraint, Apollo pushed his hips into the penetration, actively yielding, demanding still more. Starbuck's left arm came around him, in a fierce attempt to harness the sudden savagery of their joining.

"Easy, Pol," Starbuck whispered. "Easy. Let me do it for you this time. Please, Pol. Trust me."

Swallowing convulsively, Apollo forced himself to relax, to be still. That last time - well, he had overdone it; he had suffered for it the next day. Even so, he almost hated Starbuck in that instant, for denying him what he so desperately needed. He clenched his muscles on the rigid fullness within him, reveling in Starbuck's long-drawn hiss of pleasure.

"You really want this to be over so soon, Pol? If you do, I'll oblige you. If you can wait just a little, I want to show you something. Something - different. You'll like it." Was that a touch of shyness that Apollo heard?

"All right," Apollo gasped. "Don't make me wait too long, Star. Ahh!" The cry was wrung out of him as his lover gently squeezed the tip of his cock between thumb and forefinger. "Gods, this is torture! I need to come!"

"Patience, Pol. Stop thinking about coming and enjoy the sensations. Trust me - haven't I always been a true hedonist?" Starbuck rolled Apollo's taut nipples between his fingers and at the same time began an excruciatingly slow rolling grind with his hips. No thrusting, just a persistent stirring. "Relax, Pol, just let me love you like this for a while, deep inside you. Just moving enough for us to feel each other. Feel each other breathe. Don't be afraid of it."

"I'm not," Apollo protested. "I'm not afraid of it." He schooled himself to breathe when Starbuck did, wondering what it was that he might be afraid of. The warmth? The - impalement? The closeness of another body that should be separate from him, yet wasn't? He felt his own inhalation at the same time that Starbuck's chest expanded against his back, increasing the pressure within him ever so slightly. Apollo closed his eyes and let Starbuck surround him, seep into him with his every breath. Gradually the grind turned to slow, shallow thrusts, and Starbuck's lips were on his neck, his tongue tracing a moist pattern over pulse and sinew. Supported by his lover's arms, Apollo rode the strong thighs beneath him, leaving the lift and descent to Starbuck, his only effort a tilt of the hips to offer himself more fully. He wasn't sure when he realized that he was moaning, hopelessly immersed in a rhythmic indulgence orchestrated by his incomparable lover. He surrendered to the lovely ebb and flow, the delicious advance and retreat that was not a conquest, but a convergence that built to a bursting crescendo. As though molten silver sprung from him and within him. Ah, gods - so beautiful! So beautiful!

Starbuck's breath shuddered beside Apollo's ear. "Worth the wait, Pol?" He gave Apollo a brief, firm hug, and released him from the embrace. Despite the warm spray of the turbowash, Apollo felt a sudden chill.

"Smug now, are we?" Apollo disengaged and stood, his legs feeling rather boneless. He extended a hand to Starbuck, and pulled his lover to his feet. "Don't get cocky." There were no words to express what he had felt, so he resorted to the familiar banter that he and Starbuck had been exchanging for over fifteen yahrens.

"My knees won't ever be the same," Starbuck complained, flashing the archetypical Starbuck grin. "Next time, I won't make you wait."

Apollo laughed. "Next time, I'm going to skewer you to the wall, Bucko."

"Is that a promise?" Starbuck asked archly.

"Yes. Yes it is." Apollo pulled his lover to him and kissed him soundly. "And yes, it was worth the wait, Star. *You* were worth the wait." He let go of Starbuck's shoulders. "We may have to work on improving your poor character, but - well, maybe not all aspects of it." He ducked at Starbuck's playful feint. "I have to pick up Boxey from school, but you'll come by later?"

Starbuck pursed his lips and pretended to consider the offer. "All right, but it's your turn to think up an excuse for Boxey as to why I'm in your quarters. Crawlons in my bed in the BOQ isn't an option any more. The exterms came by earlier to get rid of them - based on a report Athena filed after Boxey told her that the BOQ was infested."

"I'll think of something. If I can't - well, you're back to the BOQ at twelve-three-oh."

****

Several days later, Apollo happened to be passing by when the Galactica's conference room disgorged the Council of Twelve. The female Councilors were twittering, and Apollo overheard Siress Tinia mention something about a Viper Kiss. He flattened himself against the wall in an ostensibly polite manner, to allow the Councilors to move past him.

"That's right - the Viper Kiss is on the agenda for next secton," he heard Siress Mnemosyne say. "Have you had a chance to try out the Turbo Hum?"

Siress Mnemosyne, who was an attractive woman of about forty yahrens, giggled and blushed when she happened to catch Apollo looking at her. He nodded in curt military style, allowed them to pass, then returned to the duty office wondering just what in seven hells a Viper Kiss was. He temporarily forgot about it when he received a request from Colonel Tigh on his comm-pad - signed by his father, no less - to avoid scheduling Starbuck for patrols every other Fourthday. Apollo pushed his chair back so hard that it hit the opposite wall.

On his way to the bridge, he noticed that people were fleeing his path, and he knew that he was scowling, but he really couldn't believe this felgercarb with Starbuck's schedule. It would take him centars to rework the duty roster around that! And it might even mean that he'd have to fly with Sheba as his wingman, and that thought was so unappealing that he hit the wall with his fist. A shower of sparks rained down on him.

"What the frack?" He rubbed the side of his hand and examined the emergency sconces above him. Nothing seemed to be burning, so he continued on his way, making a mental note to mention the sparks to Facilities Admin.

Apollo exploded onto the bridge, and confronted a startled Colonel Tigh. "What the frack is this?" he demanded, holding out the offending assignment request.

Tigh took the comm-pad from him with a quelling glance. "This is an order from me, Captain, to schedule Lieutenant Starbuck accordingly. Is there a problem with covering for him on those days?"

Apollo sighed. "No, sir," he replied truculently. "Might I be told why Lieutenant Starbuck won't be available for duty on those days?"

"Uh, I don't know why -" Tigh seemed quite uncomfortable. "I don't know if the Commander wishes to make that information public, Captain. You'll have to check with him."

Apollo looked up to where his father was sitting. "Commander?"

"Yes, Captain?" Adama was glowering beneath his bushy eyebrows - not a good sign.

"Can you tell me why Lieutenant Starbuck won't be available for duty on alternate Fourthdays?"

Adama heaved a dramatic sigh of his own. "Yes, I could, Captain, but I won't. Next time you have your fangs out, I suggest you go looking for Cylons. I'll see you in my quarters in - four centars."

"Yes, sir." Apollo tried not to sound contrite, but he did. He couldn't help himself.

****

Apollo slunk back to the duty office and spent two centars reworking the roster. He had tried to locate Starbuck, but after he heard that his lover was in the Life Center with Cassie, he forced himself to work rather than succumb to a jealous rage. Jealousy was a rather unwelcome by-product of his physical relationship with Starbuck. Not that he hadn't felt its sting before. He had. All those times that he'd watched his best friend and wingman with a myriad of nameless, faceless women - plus Athena and Cassie - he'd wanted to cry out at the unfairness of it. He'd felt jealousy then, but he hadn't felt justified in his jealousy. Now he did.

He shouldn't, of course. He felt a new sympathy for all those women who had naively believed that they owned Starbuck after they'd slept with him. Before, he thought that they were rather stupid and pathetic creatures; now he felt sorry for them. He felt sorry for himself, thinking that maybe Starbuck was with Cassie at this very moment. Not just with her, but maybe - gods forbid - *in* her. He wondered if Starbuck had been plagued with the same slightly sickish feeling when he knew that Apollo had been with Serina. He lashed himself mercilessly with both thoughts until he realized that he'd scheduled Bojay for three back-to-back patrols.

Maybe it would be best if he went with his hunch about this Viper Kiss nonsense, and just asked Starbuck about the new Pyramid strategies. Then, after Starbuck confessed, Apollo would make his position clear, forgive his lover, and maybe find a storage closet where they could make up properly.

Oh, but that sounded like an excellent idea! He hadn't been able to see Starbuck alone in almost four cycles, and he was ready to blow a gasket. Something had to change, and soon. He couldn't go on with Starbuck this way, sneaking a few centars together here and there. They couldn't come up with any more convincing excuses for Starbuck to stay in his quarters during the sleep-cycle, and Apollo was beginning to imagine that people were looking at him - at them - with unhealthy speculation. Same-gender relationships were almost unheard of in the military, although they were tacitly accepted among civilians, provided that the relationship was discreet. A few of the colonies had legalized same-gender marriages, but most didn't recognize such relationships as valid. Apollo had been over and over the same ground in his head for yahrens, and nothing new ever presented itself. It was just an untenable situation all around.

By the time he finished the rosters and found Starbuck, he had only half a centar before he was expected in the Commander's quarters. He pulled his lover into the duty office and closed the door.

"Where have you been?" Apollo demanded. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He cringed inwardly.

Starbuck lifted an eyebrow in that way of his that said, "Back off, buddy!" and leaned indolently against the wall, folding his arms. Not an encouraging Starbuck posture. "I've been in the Life Center," he replied acidly. "Which you knew, because one of the med-techs mentioned that Captain Apollo had been looking for me. So maybe you meant to ask me what I was doing in the Life Center - is that it?"

Apollo chided himself for being an astrum. After all of his ruminations about jealousy, he had made a fatal mistake. How many times had he heard his wingman complain of clingy women who thought that they had the right to know of his whereabouts after sleeping with him a few times? It was at the top of the list of Starbuck's Reasons to Leave 'Em. Most of Blue Squadron, including Starbuck, had been present in the OC when the list had been assembled, along with its diminutive companion list: Starbuck's Reasons to Love 'Em. As far as Apollo knew, both lists - scrawled on bar napkins - still hung on the wall in the BOQ. Time for reverse thrusters.

"I'm sorry, Starbuck. I just wanted to find you before I'm due in the Commander's quarters - for a lecture, I'm afraid. I lost my temper on the bridge." Apollo glanced at the wall chrono. "I didn't want to interrupt anything, but I don't have much time left."

"What else is new?" Starbuck's arms unfolded, and he hitched a hip onto Apollo's desk. "Was it justified?"

"My outburst? I don't know - you tell me, Bucko. I got a request to keep you off-duty every other Fourthday. Signed by my father!" Apollo rubbed at his temples. "I'm going to have to fly with Sheba to cover for you, since Blue is down a few since that last attack."

"Is that why you lost your temper?" Starbuck's blue eyes warned him not to evade the truth. Just as well - Apollo wasn't the expert in prevarication that Starbuck was.

"No, I lost my temper - originally - because you hadn't warned me about the request. It's taken me almost three centars to rework the roster!" Apollo wasn't good at lying, but he excelled at making people feel guilty - including himself, unfortunately.

Starbuck nodded, a peculiar half-smile on his lips. "So you're mad at me. And who did you take it out on? Colonel Tigh?"

"Direct hit, Bucko."

"Ouch. Apollo, I didn't know about it either. I would have told you if I'd known." Starbuck rubbed his hands together conspiratorially. "So, what can you tell your father to excuse your outburst? Do you want me to come up with something to get you out of there in, say ten centons?"

Apollo sighed heavily. "No, Starbuck, it's my fault that I lost my temper. But you haven't told me what this alternate Fourthday business is about!"

Starbuck folded his arms again. "I can't. It's Council-related business that will be announced in time, I suspect. Until then, I'm not at liberty to say."

"I see." Apollo studied his wingman for a long moment. "You really aren't going to tell me!" he said finally, unable to keep the hurt from his voice. Lords of Kobol, Starbuck had been telling him all kinds of things - many that Apollo hadn't really wanted to be privy to - for yahrens.

"No, I'm not," Starbuck said firmly. "I was specifically ordered not to say a word about it, and I won't." He paused a beat. "That's not to say that others might not be so secretive about it. And you may very well be - put in a bad position when the announcements are made." Starbuck rocked back and forth on his heels. Another inauspicious sign.

"Am I going to be angry with you, Starbuck?"

Starbuck's eyes slid to the side and down, the way they always did before he told Apollo that he'd lost his cubits at Pyramid. "Quite possibly."

"Great. Thanks for warning me about that, at least." Apollo reached across the desk, gripped Starbuck's flight jacket and pulled the blond toward him. He caught a glimpse of startled blue eyes before he fastened his lips to Starbuck's, taking advantage of the other man's gasp of surprise to slide his tongue between those straight-edged teeth. He found Starbuck's tongue and teased it into a passionate duel, drawing back only after he was sure that his lover was responding in kind. It couldn't hurt to keep him interested, after all.

"What the frack was that for?" Starbuck asked with a little puff of laughter.

"Because you're irresistible?"

Apollo's wingman considered that. "Okay, I'll go with that answer. Do you want to meet me back here after your talk with the Commander?" he asked hopefully.

"We're due on patrol in eight centars - don't you want to catch some sleep?"

"Sleep? Apollo, it's been three whole cycles!" Starbuck protested. "And I heard you arranging for Boxey to stay with Athena after school since we need to go on patrol during his sleep-cycle."

"Is three cycles your limit or something?" Apollo asked, straight-faced. He had always taken a bizarre delight in the times that Starbuck's seduction schemes had been foiled - not that it had happened all that often. Mostly with Athena. Mostly because of Athena. Teasing him was just too much fun to resist.

Starbuck scowled. "Before you, it was two." His forefinger hit Apollo's sternum, coincident with the word "you". "You can take that as a compliment that I'm willing to wait."

"And if it's more than three cycles? What then?" Apollo asked softly. It would be best for him to find out now.

"What d'you think?" Starbuck exploded. "Solium overload kicks in after three cycles, Apollo!"

"Well, I know what I'd do, Bucko." Apollo said quietly. "If your partner isn't available, there comes a time when you just have to take matters into your own hands. I'm just not sure what you'd do, since there are so many people ready to fall into bed with you."

There, he'd presented his position on the topic of fidelity with dignity and aplomb. Starbuck, however, was not reacting in the manner that Apollo had expected. He had expected anger, hot denial, or an outright rejection of the fidelity concept. He hadn't expected his wingman to look at him as though he'd grown several additional heads, and perhaps extra extremities to go with them. Dear Lords of Kobol - was sexual promiscuity so deeply engrained in him that Starbuck couldn't even envision anything else?

Slowly, a wicked grin appeared on Starbuck's face, followed by a guffaw. "You daggit! 'Take matters into your own hands' - gods, that's funny, coming from you! I thought that you'd never lower yourself to jacking off! Especially not after - you know, the Lights."

Blood rushed to Apollo's cheeks. "Um, sorry to disappoint you, Bucko. I'm not that noble. Frack! I have to go!" Apollo flung open the door. "I'll meet you back here - soon, I hope."

"Want me to pray for you?" the blond lieutenant called after him, still laughing.

****

Apollo hated seeing that expression on his father's face. It was bad enough to see the righteous anger of a Commander who had witnessed near-insubordination on his bridge. Adama's disappointment in his son was a much more terrible thing to see, and Apollo had lived his whole life trying to avoid seeing it. Over the yahrens, certain friends had told him that his fear of disappointing his father was crippling him, dampening his creativity, preventing him from living his life to the fullest, and in general turning him into a dead bore. Apollo had always responded that there was nothing wrong with having a well-developed sense of responsibility. He still believed that, but he had a sneaking suspicion that his definition of 'responsibility' was changing. The new definition didn't always include making his father happy.

"I'm sorry for my behavior on the bridge earlier, sir." Apollo decided to try for a preemptive strike.

"There was no excuse for that," Adama stated evenly.

Apollo clasped his hands behind his back. "No, there wasn't. Sir."

Adama toyed with a small pyramid-shaped monolith on his desk. "I want to hear it anyway."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I want to hear your excuse, Apollo." Adama sighed heavily. "I'm speaking as your father, not as your Commander. Sit down." He gestured to a chair, and obediently, Apollo sat. "Over the past few yahrens, you've made progress in controlling your hot temper, and I want to know why this particular request in regard to Starbuck's schedule made you so angry."

Apollo wondered which reason he should give: the most reasonable one, the one that Adama would regard as petty, or the real one. He opted for the one that sounded most reasonable.

"I was annoyed at having to rearrange the duty roster, after spending so much time trying to compensate for the Blue Squadron's casualties after that attack last secton. We lost two pilots, and four others are in the Life Center or unable to pull patrols. I was going to switch a few pilots from Green to Blue, but there are some difficulties with incompatible personalities. And then we have the Silver Spar issue." Apollo was going to continue, but he didn't miss the fact that his father was paying more attention to that damned pyramid desk ornament than to him. "Well, I'll spare you the details."

Adama set the little pyramid down on his desk with a thump. "Apollo, you've been 'annoyed' with such things before, and you've never snapped at Colonel Tigh like that. We've all been under incredible stress since the Destruction - over a yahren of that kind of stress could overwhelm anyone, and you, Apollo, have been subjected to more than most. Still, we must keep order, and level heads - and I think you've done that quite well up till now." Adama glanced up at his son expectantly. "What's your next excuse?"

"Sheba." With growing irritation, Apollo watched his father pick up that carved, black stone pyramid again. "I know you'll think it's petty, but the easiest thing to do, since Silver Spar has a full squadron, would be to cover Starbuck's patrols using Sheba to fill in as my wingman. I'm - unhappy about that."

"I thought Sheba was a very competent pilot," Adama said mildly.

"She is. But she has habits that drive me to the brink of insanity, Father!"

"Oh, I see. And you mean to tell me that Starbuck doesn't? I've heard you complain about Starbuck's various imperfections since you met him at the Academy. In fact, I've noticed many of them myself..."

"That's different," Apollo said quickly. "Sheba talks too much on patrols - if it's not her father, it's how wonderful a warrior she is, and if it's not that, then she's trying to prod me for personal information. She wants there to be something between us that just isn't there. She's got a big ego, Father, but a fragile one, so I've tried not to come out and tell her that there is no way that I'm going to seal with her. Flying with her, unfortunately, just encourages her."

"Ah," Adama pronounced wisely. "You think it encourages her matrimonial aspirations, I take it?"

"Yes. I'm relieved that you understand, Father."

Adama shook his head. "I didn't say I understood, Apollo. Perhaps you should be looking for a new mother for Boxey, and a new companion for yourself. Sheba is - "

"I will not be sealed to Sheba, Father." Apollo tried to keep his tone level, but he could hear the angry tremble that usually preceded a full-throated roar. He hated it when he lost his temper like that. It took a lot to push him to that point, but once he went over the edge - well, there were six Viper squadrons that could attest to the fact that it wasn't a pretty sight.

"I was going to say," Adama said, unruffled, "that Sheba is being courted by someone else. So while she may have matrimonial aspirations, they are not currently directed toward you."

This was news to Apollo. Welcome news! "Who, then?" He couldn't think of anyone who could handle her whining arrogance; even Bojay had given up on her, and was now dating Rigel.

"Colonel Tigh," Adama replied. "I expect that they'll be sealed within the yahren. There is quite an age difference between them, but if they're happy together, who am I to criticize? Sheba seems to need a father-figure, and Tigh seems to have a stabilizing effect on her." He moved the black pyramid in circles on his desk. "Now, let's get to the real reason you were angry, shall we?"

Apollo took a deep breath. He wasn't even sure what he was going to say. Oh well, flying by the seat of his pants wasn't entirely unknown to him, although Starbuck was much better at it. "I was angry because no one had seen fit to tell me about the request - or the reason for it - ahead of the fact."

"No one - meaning Starbuck?" Adama's gnarled finger stroked each triangular face of the little black pyramid.

"Yes, Starbuck! And you, or even Colonel Tigh! To be quite honest, I still haven't forgotten that you didn't tell me about your plans when we were at Carillon. That hurt. I understand your reasons for not taking me into your confidence, but it still hurt. And I'm not too keen on your involving Starbuck in any of your - or the Council's - little machinations!" I also don't appreciate my lover being put in a position where he's unable to tell me the truth, he added silently. Lords know that he has enough trouble with that, as it is.

"You don't need to worry about Starbuck," Adama assured him. "Your wingman is in no danger whatsoever - at least none that he isn't uniquely qualified to handle."

Apollo turned the last phrase this way and that in his mind for a moment, studying the angles. "I don't like the sound of that, Father. Not at all! Starbuck is a trouble-magnet! You know that! What in this universe is he 'uniquely qualified to handle'?" Oh no! "Lords of Kobol - you mean women!"

"Of course!" Adama chuckled. "Starbuck is possibly the best pilot we have, but if the Council required a pilot, I would have chosen you. You've learned to exhibit some delicacy in political situations."

"I guess you're saying that I'm not very good with women." A few sectars ago, that would have bothered him, made him feel inadequate, embarrassed, even ashamed. No longer. Being Starbuck's lover had cured him of that. "I've come to accept my limitations in that regard, father."

"I didn't mean that, son," Adama said gently. "You overcame your shyness around women enough to make Serina fall in love with you. I'm sure that - "

Apollo shook his head. "No, father, Serina was never in love with me. I can't let you continue to think that. She was a kind, honest and noble woman who realized that she needed a protector for Boxey, and to a lesser extent, herself. She sought me out for Boxey's sake, because with me as her sealed mate, she had two chances for Boxey instead of just one. If I were killed in combat, you would have seen to it that Boxey was cared for. She never lied to me about what she wanted. I never lied to her either. We both knew that what we had was a relationship of - convenience. That didn't mean that we didn't care for one another, even love one another." The silly pyramid ornament suddenly appeared milky-gray, and Apollo brushed at his damp eyes. "I didn't want her to die - that wasn't fair to her. She should have been able to watch Boxey grow up. I thought I'd be the one to die first, leaving her safe and secure to raise Boxey, with you to protect them."

"No one can second-guess Destiny, son." Adama laid his hand over Apollo's. "I always thought I was leaving your mother safe at home. I thought that I'd leave her a rich widow after my death, free to pursue her own interests and hobbies. The Great Creator had other plans. But we digress onto paths that have already been trod. I suspect that you're eaten up with curiosity as to what service Lieutenant Starbuck is providing at the Council's behest, and I regret to say that I cannot tell you until final decisions have been made. What we're attempting, with Starbuck's help, is a - pilot program, so to speak."

"Very funny," Apollo commented wryly. "Tell me, is Cassiopeia involved too?"

"Yes, she is," Adama replied with a frown. "Why do you ask?"

"No special reason," Apollo lied. "I've noticed that Starbuck's been spending more time in the Life Center than usual, and I don't think he's been ill." He wanted desperately to ask his father what he knew about the Viper Kiss that Siresses Tinia and Mnemosyne had mentioned, but the time just didn't seem to be right. "Well, if that's all you can tell me, then I'd better get back to the duty office and finish up before my sleep cycle. I have a patrol in about seven centars."

Adama didn't respond immediately. He was spinning the little black pyramid on his desk like one of those gyromagnetic children's toys. He was waiting for something, Apollo guessed.

"I'm sorry about my outburst earlier, Father. I'll go apologize to Colonel Tigh as well."

"Yes. Yes, of course," Adama said distractedly. "You do that, son. Be safe on patrol."

****

Starbuck made a show of removing his booted feet from Apollo's desk when he caught sight of his Captain returning to the duty office. He did not, however, give up Apollo's chair, or extinguish his fumarello.

"Well, you appear to be in one piece." Starbuck gestured for Apollo to turn around. "Let me just check your back for evidence of self-flagellation."

Apollo tapped his foot impatiently at his friend's antics. Sometimes it was hell having a friend who knew you almost better than you knew yourself. "Get out of my chair - unless you want to write up my formal apology to Colonel Tigh."

"Sure." Starbuck tapped a few keys to bring up a memo template and let his hands - one of them still holding the lit fumarello - remain poised over the keyboard. "What do you want to say, and how obsequious do you want to be?" He cast an expectant glance at his Captain.

"Lieutenant!" Apollo snapped. He compressed his lips, but a tiny snort of laughter escaped. He wondered if Starbuck had any idea how adorable he was at this very moment.

"How 'bout this : Illustrious Colonel Tigh, whose pinky-finger I am not fit to kiss, I beg you to absolve me of the overweening guilt -"

"Overweening? Is that the right word, Starbuck?" Apollo stepped behind his lover and squinted at the computer screen.

Starbuck tilted his head back, eyebrows raised. "Inordinate? Exorbitant? Immoderate? Excessive?"

Apollo leaned forward and kissed the upside-down lips, smiling against Starbuck's teeth. "Are we still talking about guilt?" he asked.

His lover's tongue slid along the inside of his upper lip. Apollo groaned and let Starbuck explore his mouth for a long centon before he pulled away. "Oh yes, we're still talking about guilt," he sighed.

"In that case, let's make it extravagant guilt," Starbuck suggested in a whisper. "And shut the frackin' door!"

Apollo straightened abruptly. Lords, what was he thinking? The door was still open? He moved around the desk and kicked it shut after checking to make sure that no one had seen anything.

"Starbuck, you are - you are outrageous!" Apollo almost wanted to laugh, but at the same time he felt compelled to chastise his lieutenant. "Do you have any idea what would happen if we got caught?"

Starbuck typed a few more words into the memo, his fumarello held in his teeth. "I imagine that we would say that I was giving you kissing lessons." He typed another sentence while Apollo sputtered speechlessly. "Of course, it was you who kissed me."

"That isn't funny, Bucko!" Apollo managed finally. "You're the one who complained about my hugging a junior officer in public - kissing is way over the line." He paused. "Can you imagine Colonel Tigh kissing Sheba?"

A little cloud of smoke was emitted along with a choking sound. "I can't imagine anyone kissing Sheba - willingly. I think I'd rather kiss Siress Belloby. And that memory is the stuff of nightmares!" Starbuck ground the burning end of his fumarello against the bottom of his boot and set it on the edge of Apollo's desk. When it cooled enough, Apollo knew, Starbuck would stick it up his sleeve and save it for later. Fumarellos were too rare to waste, he would say. Apollo wished that the remaining supply of them could be incinerated in the next Cylon attack. Contrary to what some would think, smoking was near the top of Apollo's list of Starbuck's Imperfections. It was a long list; Apollo and Boomer had begun the list at the Academy, and over the yahrens, Apollo had kept it updated. It was stored on several sheets of yellowed paper at the bottom of his underwear drawer.

"My father told me that Tigh was courting Sheba - isn't that a relief!" Apollo watched as his lieutenant typed diligently, using just two fingers on each hand. "Bucko, what are you doing?"

"I'm writing your frackin' apology to Tigh, Apollo."

"Why?" Apollo was puzzled; Starbuck hated paperwork and reports of any kind.

"Because," Starbuck replied, still typing, "if you write it, you'll agonize over it, and edit it for three centars, and we only have six and a half centars until we go on patrol. And I'll be damned if I'll let you spend that time writing this apology!"

"Oh." Apollo sat on the edge of his desk and listened to the rapid clicking of the keys. "You must really be suffering from congestive back-up." He smiled.

"Yes, well, we need to talk about that, Pol." Starbuck hit a few keys with a flourish and rose from the chair. "There - see what you think of that."

Apollo leaned over the back of the chair and read what Starbuck had written. It was good, damn good, and it sounded just as though he had written it himself. "It's great, Starbuck - thanks." Apollo hit the 'Send' key.

Apollo had expected that, once they were safely in his quarters, they would tear each other's clothes off and go at it like two mustelas. He was ready for that; ready to make good on the promise he'd made to Starbuck the last time they'd been together. Actually, he'd been looking forward to it. But Starbuck, apparently, had other ideas. He threw off his flight jacket and tunic, tossed them on a chair and hunted up a bottle of ambrosa from the back of Apollo's cabinet. He pulled the stopper with his teeth, spat it out and took a long swallow. Apollo admired the arch of his lover's neck as he drank - the strong muscles, the movement of his Adam's apple. There was a spot, just above the right side of his collarbone, that had the softest skin; when Apollo licked it, Starbuck would hunch his shoulders and giggle. Actually giggle.

When Starbuck handed him the bottle of ambrosa, he drank distractedly. It wasn't bad ambrosa, but it wasn't the good stuff.

"Aren't you going to make a comment about the quality of the ambrosa, Bucko?" he teased. He relegated his own flight jacket to the chair. It was entirely too warm to wear it.

"Not when it's free, Pol." He took a seat at the small table where Apollo and Boxey generally ate their meals. Apollo took a step toward him, but Starbuck held up his hands. "Stop right there, Pol! I mean it!"

He sounded almost frightened, and Apollo chuckled and shuffled closer.

"I'm serious, Pol," he said, deadly earnest. "Before you get me in a state where I can't string two thoughts together, I need to say two things."

"Just two?" Apollo teased.

"Well," Starbuck drawled, "two important things." Evidently, he noticed that Apollo had moved fractionally closer, because he extended one booted foot, placing it firmly against his captain's thigh. "Stop right there! Gods, who would have thought that staid, boring, priggish Apollo would turn into such a - a satyr! What have I done?"

Realizing that his friend was speaking only half in jest, but uncertain whether he wanted to be lectured by Starbuck - Starbuck, of all people! - after a session with his father, Apollo took hold of his wingman's boot and tugged it off. The momentum pulled Starbuck almost off his chair. His expression of utter shock was so comical that Apollo began to laugh as he grabbed at the other boot.

"Holy frack, Pol! Are you attacking my virtue?" Starbuck's feet were now bare, and all he had left were his uniform pants. "Please, I need for you to listen to me!" This last was a raw, imploring cry - so rare for Starbuck that Apollo dropped the second boot and sank into the chair opposite his wingman.

"What is it, Bucko? I'm listening." It was the least he could do, if his best friend needed to get something off his chest, or confess to something - even if it was painful for him to hear it. After all, they had only been lovers for about three sectons, and they hadn't pledged eternal devotion or anything. What, indeed, had they acknowledged after all? That they were friends, the best of friends, who had developed a rather inconvenient attraction for one another. And at least Apollo could still be his best friend when it was over; Starbuck's legions of women couldn't ever claim that. And then it struck him. Maybe it wasn't the women he had to worry about. As he had discovered recently, as he had known since the Academy, Starbuck had many secrets. Layers and layers of sticky clandestine concealments, that reminded him of a dessert that his mother used to make, called huniga. Flaky layers of pastry, syrupy sweetness - utterly delicious until you hit one of those bitter kolnuts. Apollo had always hated kolnuts, and had picked them out if he could see them. Of course, there was always at least one that he missed.

Starbuck reached a hand across the table, laying it on Apollo's arm. His eyes were so blue, so beautiful. "I just want to tell you not to worry, Pol. That's the first thing. You have been worrying, haven't you?"

"You know me," Apollo said. "I always worry." He tried to sound as casual and carefree as Starbuck ordinarily did, but quickly decided that he didn't have the proper vocal cords for it. In fact, his vocal cords seemed to have become tangled somehow, resulting in an uncharacteristic huskiness. And a rather odd, painful lump in his throat.

"You don't need to worry about me, or about - about us." Starbuck said this tentatively, as though unsure whether Apollo wanted to hear it. "I know that I haven't - well, I've never really been - frack! What I'm trying to say is that - well, I know how to use my hands, too, Pol." He patted Apollo's arm lightly, then picked up the ambrosa bottle again.

"Oh." This wasn't at all what Apollo had expected, but something inside his chest did a little happy bounce. "That's a relief. I wouldn't want to think that there was a vice that I could outperform you in."

"Not likely, buddy." Starbuck treated his lover to a brief grin. "You were worried about that, weren't you?" Starbuck studied Apollo closely. "That I'd find someone else to vent my insatiable lust on if we couldn't get together often enough." His tone was light, and almost self-deprecating.

"Well - you have a certain reputation - and I've seen you in action." Apollo knew he needed to be very careful what he admitted to.

Starbuck drew a breath between his teeth. "I was afraid of that. I guess you'll have to trust me. And that brings me to the other thing I wanted to say, Pol." He raked his fingers through the longish tawny hair that Apollo so loved to play with. "It's probably second-nature to you, growing up like you did, with the - rather old-fashioned values of the Caprican gentry. I saw a little of it in the way you treated Serina - and I've seen more than enough of it in my life." He shook his head. "I'm not saying this right, Pol."

Apollo took pity on his wingman. "I'm sorry. I was jealous, and I know how much you hate that." He would apologize for anything, to keep Starbuck as his lover. Gods, when had it come to this? The next chance he got, he was going to think about what was happening and figure out what to do about it.

"It's not just jealousy, Pol." Starbuck traced the rim of the ambrosa bottle until it squeaked. "I was jealous of Serina, and I told you so - even though I couldn't really explain then what I was going through." He smiled wistfully, recalling the agonies he had suffered. "And like you said once, I think it's pretty nice that you're jealous - I like being wanted. It's when jealousy crosses over into the realm of possessiveness that I have a problem."

Apollo snagged the bottle of ambrosa and took a swallow. "And here I thought that you enjoyed having all those women vying for your attention. I know you did, Bucko."

Starbuck's lips curved upward. "Of course! I love being adored. But that's not what I meant. Possessiveness is when you want to control another person, when you need to know what they're doing and where they are every centon, when you decide for them what they can or can't do. When you think you own them. I've had enough of that in my life. I've told you some of the stories about Siress Natanya, but not all. Maybe I never will. It's not something I want to remember. And definitely not something I want to be repeated. Don't ever think you can make my decisions for me, Pol - and don't ever think that I belong to you."

"I don't think that, Star!" The very idea was ludicrous - after all, no one could own Starbuck. And as for controlling him - well, the man could barely follow orders.

"Maybe not, but if I let you, you would try. Serina didn't allow it either, but I have a feeling if you and she were together on Caprica - the way it used to be before the Destruction - there is no way in all the hells that you would have let her become a Viper pilot."

"No, I guess I wouldn't have," Apollo admitted. "Just like my father wouldn't let my mother do anything like that. She used to complain about it sometimes - that she didn't feel like she was allowed to do anything really useful. Father used to remind her that raising children was useful, but she always said it wasn't quite the same." He let Starbuck reclaim the bottle. "I wasn't really like that with Serina," he sighed. "I didn't want her to put herself in danger, but I knew she was a competent woman, capable of doing whatever she wanted to do. It was more that - that I was afraid of how it would look if my betrothed was training to be a pilot."

"Instead of what? Playing the siress?" It was obvious that Starbuck wasn't surprised by the admission.

The flat of Apollo's hand struck the table. Starbuck raised an eyebrow, but otherwise did not flinch. "Gods, Starbuck, I am such an ass! Yes, it was the appearance of - of impropriety that bothered me. You're right about the Caprican gentry and their social standards. None of that should mean anything to me anymore, after the Destruction, but somehow it's always there." His head dropped into his hands. "I always try to be so careful with Boxey, not to let him develop prejudices, or feel superior to other children because he's the Commander's grandson. I guess I'm not a very good example, am I?"

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Pol." Starbuck gripped his captain's shoulder and shook him gently. "You know, it's just like you to make me feel bad while I'm trying to make you feel bad. You're doing a wonderful job of being a father to Boxey, and you've always been a good friend to me. You never treated me in the condescending way that other privileged cadets treated me - like I didn't deserve to attend the Academy, like I was nothing because I had no family. I don't want to lose your friendship - not ever."

Apollo raised his head. "Are you saying that you want to - to end our - physical relationship, Star? That it's interfering with our friendship?" The lump in his throat was back, so painful that Apollo thought it might bring him to tears.

"No," Starbuck said, shaking his head in unequivocal denial. "No, silly Pol! I'm not saying that at all! It's just like you to believe the worst of everything - that's why I'm trying to warn you! I want to avoid having something terrible happen between us. I know you're angry because I can't tell you what I've been doing, and I want you to know that it has nothing to do with - with us. But you know how things go, and how rumors start, and how the IFB gets involved in everything - and you aren't going to like it. Your father isn't going to like that part either. When you find out what's been going on with the Council, and my part in it, I want you to think about it before you get angry. I want you to think about why I agreed to do what I'm doing, and I want you to understand that I made the decision knowing that it might affect you - in a peripheral way. If it makes you angry, I'm sorry. That's what I was trying to say."

"You're done, then?" Apollo was so relieved that Starbuck hadn't wanted out of their physical relationship that he just longed to hug his wingman to him and never let go. "Your 'two things' that you wanted to say seemed more like three or four. You never could be brief and to the point. Except when there's something you don't want to talk about."

"Not fair, Pol! " Starbuck protested. "It was two things - it's just that the second thing had a few parts. And actually, there was something else I wanted to mention, too." The blue eyes took on a salacious gleam that made Apollo feel hot all over. He still wasn't used to having that predatory gaze turned on him.

"Something about the congestive back-up problem?" Apollo asked innocently.

"Yes, that." Starbuck lifted his bare foot and laid it deliberately against Apollo's crotch. He wiggled his toes. "I never told you that I used to jack off in my Viper, thinking about what it would be like to fuck you into total insensibility. Remember that patrol when I told you I was thinking of resigning as your wingman?"

"How could I forget that?" Apollo said dryly. "I almost had cardiac arrest."

"Well, you asked me if I'd spent the night with some woman before that patrol, and I told you I'd slept alone. What I didn't tell you was that I slept in my Viper - after first jacking off to a favorite fantasy of mine."

Apollo didn't know what to say to that. The picture of Starbuck doing that in his Viper made him - oh gods, and those naughty toes wiggled against him again. "Ah, Star, you are such a tease! I can't believe you'd do that!"

Starbuck smiled serenely. "It wasn't the only time." He moved his toes against Apollo's hardness. "You like hearing about it, don't you, Pol? You think it's hot and sexy." He laughed, and Apollo thought that was hot and sexy too. Everything Starbuck did was sensual and erotic as hell - except for a few habits that were annoying. "Well, Pol, thinking about you caressing yourself is just driving me crazy. I've been imagining it the whole time you were being lectured by your father. He didn't tell you anything about the Council's current dilemmas, did he?"

"Not a word!" The air seemed to have become so humid that Apollo ripped off his tunic and threw it in the general direction of the sofa; normally he would have hung it neatly away, but he felt like rebelling against convention in some small way. "He did tell me that you were part of what he called a pilot program, and that it involves handling women."

"Not precisely," Starbuck laughed. "Not in a physical manner, at least."

"I'm glad to hear that," Apollo said dourly. "I'd rather have you handle me." He wrapped his hand around Starbuck's bare foot, and idly began to massage the sole with his thumb. "But, you know I got the oddest impression that my father was trying to get some information from me. He never really gave me a dressing down - not like his usual full-blown ones - it was more like he wanted to find out why I was so upset. He seemed distracted though, and kept playing with that little black pyramid that sits on his desk. He's up to something, I'm sure of it."

"When isn't your father up to something?" Starbuck let out a groan. "Gods, Apollo, I'll give you a centar to stop that - whatever you're doing to my foot. And then you can start on the other foot. What pyramid are you talking about, anyway? I remember seeing a crystal pyramid on his desk when he asked me to participate in the - uh, pilot program. About so big?" He held up his hands with thumbs and forefingers together to describe a small triangular shape.

"Yep, that's the right size." Apollo pushed Starbuck's foot off his lap, then stood. "I'll massage your other foot later, Star. I don't want you to have written that apology to Tigh for nothing." He grinned.

Starbuck took that hint, and centons later, washed up and naked, they climbed into Apollo's bed. Apollo sighed as his lover scooted closer, kissing his collarbone, then his nipples, then a wet, zigzag path down to his cock. At least, so Apollo hoped. Starbuck rarely took the direct route; he teased and played - and sometimes stopped and talked, for Sagan's sake - before getting down to business. This time he grasped Apollo's cock at the base, and licked up and down in precise ribbons of territory, moistening the entire surface with his tongue.

"Star!" Apollo breathed. "What are you doing?" He broke off into a strangled cry as his lover's mouth suddenly enveloped him in heat and dampness, the tiniest scrape of teeth, the pressure of chin on his scrotum, and nose nuzzling into his pubic bone. Oh gods! And then Starbuck made a pleased sound in his throat, a kind of a hum that echoed along all his nerve-endings. It was too good; he took a fistful of golden hair and pulled. "Star, please - I want to take you."

After another, rather considering hum, Starbuck raised his head. "So - take me." Apollo thought that he saw a glint of wariness in the blue eyes.

"Oh, no you don't, Bucko!" Apollo pulled his wingman up into his arms, trapping him with his legs. "I'm not having you think that I want to take you because I want to - to own you. Give me a little credit for not being a total Boray! I want it because when you took me last time, it was so incredibly wonderful that I think you deserve to feel that way too." He deposited several little kisses along the side of Starbuck's jaw, and felt him smile. He wondered when Starbuck's smiles had become so important to him.

"That's all right, then." Starbuck turned his head to capture a full kiss.

****

Adama felt old - older than his hundred and some yahrens. The Council's decision had been made, and new laws had been passed. He really couldn't see that they'd had any alternative. The one small provision that he'd suggested had been adopted after a long debate, but under the circumstances, it seemed foolish to cling to the letter of Kobolian law. Those laws had been written in a different time, for a people who had faced different challenges.

He'd tried to deflect the IFB reporter's more pointed questions, but in the end, he'd made a firm statement, and he intended to stand by his declaration, no matter how painful it was to him. He hoped that he'd read the situation correctly, and made the best decision.

As for the rest of the Council's edicts, they would be hard on many people, and cause heartbreak for some. Dr. Salik wasn't happy, but he understood better than anyone what they were up against, having run all the projections and performed all the research. And, with the help of Starbuck and Cassie, maybe the whole fleet could come to terms with the new laws.

And maybe he could come to terms with the man his son really was, instead of the one he had always expected him to be.

****

"So tell me about Sheba and Colonel Tigh. Somehow we got sidetracked from that topic."

"Not much to tell, except that my father thinks they'll be sealed within the yahren." Apollo was glad to hear Starbuck's voice on their private channel; for almost five centars of their patrol, they hadn't spoken, except for the typical terse exchanges at launching, and a comment or two about the nothingness they were seeing. Long silences on patrol were to be expected, but over the past few sectons Starbuck had been quieter than usual. It wasn't lost on Apollo that this was due to the fact that most of Starbuck's conversation had revolved around the women he was dating. The remainder was devoted to pyramid games and squadron gossip.

"The familial pressure is off of you then. I wonder if Sheba is planning on having children."

"She doesn't really seem the maternal type." Apollo refrained from saying that Boxey didn't like her.

"No. And she couldn't fly after three sectars. She would hate that." There was a long pause. "Would you and Serina have wanted children right away? Tell me if I'm stepping into forbidden territory, Pol."

Apollo stiffened, the way he ordinarily did when anyone mentioned Serina. It was a reflex. But this was Starbuck he was talking to, his best friend who would have been his best man at the sealing, had he not been captured by the Cylons. And several sectons ago he had confessed to Starbuck what he had just told his father - that he and Serina had not been in love. He had cared for her deeply, but it hadn't been a true, all-encompassing romantic love. Apollo wasn't sure what that kind of love felt like.

"I guess we would have," he finally replied. "We never talked about it."

"And you wouldn't have considered adopting one of the many orphans in the fleet?" There was a challenge in Starbuck's voice, metallic though it was over the com-link.

"We never discussed it," Apollo answered truthfully. "And - well there isn't much room for children on the Galactica."

"No, there isn't. Or on most of the other ships. You remember the conditions on the Gemoni freighter - it hasn't improved much, if at all. There's food and water, for now, but precious little space. Most of the ships are the same, more or less."

"I know we're lucky on the Galactica." Apollo wondered why his wingman was bringing up these painful issues. "Are you thinking about adopting a child, Starbuck?"

The static Apollo heard was a sigh; he knew it. "When Cassie and I were together, we talked about it - kind of a game of 'what if'. She - well she may never be able to have children. She had an infection contracted from a client in her past - it may have caused sterility. So we would have adopted children."

Apollo had often thought that little Starbucks would be adorable, and he wouldn't have minded being Uncle Apollo. But to an orphan like Starbuck, adopting children would be like righting a wrong; Apollo could see that clearly. "I'm sorry that things didn't work out the way you wanted it." He didn't know what else to say.

There was a beat of silence, then Starbuck's laughter rang out. "Silly Pol! Things did work out the way I wanted! How could you think any differently after - after last night?"

Apollo felt himself grinning like an idiot. "That was pretty incredible, Star." Their joining had been slow and sweet; Apollo curled behind and around Starbuck, holding him close, feeling every tremor of his body, striving to overwhelm him with pleasure. And succeeding.

"Yes, it was." A long pause. "I always wanted you, Pol. I used to stare at you in classes at the Academy, and imagine that you were my friend. That you cared about me. And then, somehow - thanks to Boomer - we were playing Triad together, and I was allowed to touch you."

Apollo smiled at the memories. "I kind of liked that too, but it embarrassed me to always get hard when you brushed against me, or leaned on me during a time-out." Apollo recalled how horrified he'd been the first time he had a dream - a hot, sweaty, sex-dream - featuring Starbuck. He'd felt like the worst sort of pervert, until he'd read in some psychology book that it was normal for close friends -even those of the same gender - to develop adolescent 'crushes'.

"I was never that innocent," Starbuck said bitterly. "Siress Natanya saw to that. You were the best, the purest thing in my life, Pol. You made me a better person, because I didn't want you to ever be ashamed of me. I know I've walked a fine line in that regard, but I've tried."

Apollo took a deep breath, tears prickling beneath his eyelids. "Don't you go trying to make me a saint, Bucko! I would hate that. Especially since I've barely begun doing all the things I want to do to you."

"I have a few ideas of my own," Starbuck chuckled. "I've had yahrens and yahrens to dream them up."

"And centars on patrols like this one - no Cylons, no planets, no magnetic fields. Just stars. It gives me time to think, and wonder about things." Apollo decided, given the intimate nature of their conversation, that now was as good a time as any. "Tell me, Star, what's a Viper Kiss? It's not some new Pyramid system, is it?"

The com-link was dead silent for an interminable amount of time.

"It isn't, is it?" Apollo sighed. "It's somehow connected to the Council's current - problem, isn't it?" "More or less," came the answer, finally. "Pol, about a centar ago, the IFB started reporting everything. I mean everything." Apollo thought he heard a muffled sob. "Now that we're headed back, you'll have to decide in about thirty centons whether or not you're ashamed of me."

****

Starbuck was gone when Apollo came out of decontamination, probably because he had taken a centon to tell Jordan about a few electrical quirks he'd noticed before entering the decontamination booth. Just as Starbuck had predicted, however, Apollo was besieged by an IFB reporter and camera crew as soon as he left the landing bay. The reporter, a feisty brunette named Gwenna, was respectful but persistent. She seemed to be talking about Council restrictions on reproduction. He held up a hand to stop her babbling.

"I've just come in from a patrol, Gwenna," he said politely, but firmly. "I have no idea what the Council has done in the last six centars."

"I know that," the brunette said, undeterred. "Let me give you a brief update, Captain. The Council has placed severe restrictions on reproduction, due to space limitations and food shortages. Computer-generated lotteries will determine when and if couples will be permitted to have a child - the aim being to maintain a zero-growth population until we get to Earth. According to a report given by Dr. Salik a few centars ago, supplies of birth control medications and devices are just about exhausted, with no immediate means of manufacture. Passage of a law to enforce abstinence was only narrowly avoided due to a proposal made by Siress Tinia that natural alternatives to actual copulation be encouraged."

"Thank the Lords for that," Apollo interjected with a dry sarcasm worthy of Boomer. The comment earned him a frown from Gwenna and chuckles from the camera crew.

"Were you aware that, after practicing on a select group of Council members and civilians, the Council has authorized Lieutenant Starbuck, with the assistance of med-tech and former socialator Cassiopeia, to develop a sexual education program that will be aired on IFB, for the purpose of enlightening the entire fleet as to some of these - ah, natural alternatives?" Gwenna thrust a microphone in Apollo's face.

"No, I was only aware that the Lieutenant would be unavailable for patrols every other Fourthday," he replied evenly. Everything was beginning to make a bizarre kind of sense. The Turbo Hum. Painting the Hull. Throttle-Back. Barrel Roll. He could imagine what these terms meant now - and had experienced two of them very recently. But what the hell was a Viper Kiss?

"We heard an unconfirmed report that you were particularly upset by this, Captain Apollo," the brunette continued, "to the extent that you actually yelled at a superior officer. Is that true?"

"I received very little notice of the Lieutenant's unavailability, and last minute scheduling changes were required," Apollo said carefully.

"Then you don't approve of Lieutenant Starbuck's involvement in this program, and feel he should be performing his duties as a Warrior?" Gwenna persisted. Apollo wanted to brush her off and return to his quarters for a turbowash, but he knew from experience that the IFB would make outrageous assumptions if he refused to speak with them.

"I didn't say that, Gwenna," he corrected calmly. "Lieutenant Starbuck is one of the best Warriors we have. You know that. There's no one I'd rather have with me when confronting the Cylons. But I can work around his other duties, if the Council has determined that he can serve the Fleet in another capacity. My approval isn't required."

"Let me rephrase the question then, Captain." Gwenna smoothed her short dark hair behind one ear in a coy gesture that Apollo translated as trouble. "Does it bother you that Lieutenant Starbuck might be sharing intimate details of activities you engage in behind closed doors with the entire Fleet?"

Reporter-speak. You had to love the way they strung phrases together. Apollo gave Gwenna a condescending smile. "The entire Fleet wouldn't fit in my quarters, I'm afraid."

Gwenna's brown eyes hardened. Obviously, she was not going to be bested. "Does it bother you that Lieutenant Starbuck is working with a former socialator on this program? One with whom he previously had a relationship?"

Apollo wasn't quite sure about that yet, but he wasn't about to let the IFB know that. "Should it?" he countered.

"Let me be blunt, Captain," Gwenna snapped. "Is Lieutenant Starbuck your lover?"

Time stopped for Apollo.

He briefly considered a response of "No comment", which would tacitly affirm a sexual liaison between him and Starbuck. One that he wasn't willing to acknowledge. He didn't like that idea. He knew that Starbuck would expect it of him, because the fact was that his relationship with Starbuck was none of IFB's fracking business. But if the IFB knew to ask the question, then it was a safe bet that they had more than enough evidence to support it. He wondered if Gwenna had been stationed outside his quarters to see if he and Starbuck emerged together.

If he said yes, admitting that he and Starbuck shared a sexual relationship, he risked the wrath of his father, and possibly Athena, as well as the respect of all the squadrons other than Blue. Only long association and the example of Boomer's teasing tolerance had saved them from being shunned by some of Blue's Warriors. And Boxey - what would Boxey suffer from the rude comments of other children whose parents were less than accepting? He wondered if there were actual regulations against same-sex involvement. Since the Destruction, many changes had been made to the Code, and he hadn't had time to review them all. Lords only knew if he'd be trashing both his career and Starbuck's. And for what? He recalled how Starbuck had felt in his arms only centars earlier, warm and uninhibited in his passion. Was this physical obsession a passing phase in their friendship, prompted by a strange set of circumstances, and traumatic stresses? And if that were so, did it make their feelings for each other any less valid?

If he said no, that Starbuck was not his lover, he'd be lying. Not only that, but he'd be denying all that he felt for Starbuck in the name of propriety. This was what Starbuck had feared - a public rejection that would mean to him that Apollo was ashamed of him. Knowing Apollo as he did, knowing how much his father's approval meant to him, and how deep-seated his aristocratic Caprican upbringing was, why would he have risked so much? Starbuck was a gambler, and this whole situation seemed like such an obvious losing hand. Unless there was more that Apollo was unaware of. Yes, that would make sense. Starbuck had asked for his trust, asked him to think about it before he got angry. Surely he hadn't known that the IFB would confront him about their relationship - or had he suspected as much? Apollo realized suddenly that it didn't matter.

Time resumed its normal progression.

Apollo looked directly at Gwenna and then at the camera crew. "Let me tell you exactly what Lieutenant Starbuck means to me," he said steadily. "He was the one who sat by me and tended me when I had Qechuan virus fifteen yahrens ago at the Caprican Academy. He is the one who has always pushed me to do my best, whether at Viper simulations back at the Academy, or in my current duties. He's the one who has risked his life for me countless times, and offered it outright to the Beings of Light in exchange for mine. He's the one who makes me laugh when the utter horror of our lives is too much to bear. He's the one who shares my sorrow when lives are lost, and my joy when we toast our victories. He's the one who teaches my son some of the games that little boys play that I never learned. He's my best friend and my wingman who keeps the Cylons off my tail. And lately, he's been more than that. In this time of uncertainty after the loss of just about all we held dear, I, for one, have come to understand what is truly meaningful in life, distilled down to bare, undeniable basics. So, is Lieutenant Starbuck my lover? I don't know - you'll have to ask him, because he's more familiar with these socio-sexual terms than I am. I can only tell you that I'm his lover, with every atom of my being. Is that a sufficient answer for you?"

The usually poised Gwenna just stared at him for a few microns.

"Good. In that case, I'll take my leave of you to pick up my son." Apollo strode down the corridor, his step light and buoyant.

He nodded to the few people that he encountered on the way to Athena's quarters, and once there, he rang the door chime with an elaborate flourish. No sooner had the door opened than both Boxey and Athena flung themselves on him.

"Whoa, you two!" he cried, bracing himself.

"We saw you on IFB!" Boxey shouted, jumping up and down. "And Aunt Thenie said you lasered that bitch out of the sky!"

"Oh dear!" Athena said next to Apollo's ear. "I didn't know that he heard me - I'm so sorry, Apollo. But you were wonderful!" She drew back and wiped tears from her cheeks.

"You mean you don't mind?" Apollo was slightly taken aback; he had never seen Athena act so sentimental.

She managed to make a typical Athena-face at him. "Well, I'm not sure how I feel about the love of your life being Starbuck, for Sagan's sake, but I'll get used to it, I suppose."

"I'll get used to it, too!" Boxey piped up. "Uncle Starbuck is one of my favorite people!"

Apollo smiled down at his son, then swung him up into his arms. "I'm glad to hear that, Boxey. We're going to have a long talk, you and I."

"About Uncle Starbuck?" It was shocking sometimes, the things that Boxey understood. Apollo and Athena exchanged glances.

"Yes, about Uncle Starbuck and other things."

"It's going to have to wait for a while, though, guys." Athena held out her arms for Boxey, who leapt into them like one of the arboreal monekes that used to inhabit the forest canopies of Caprica. "Father wants to see you right away, Apollo."

"I'll bet he does," Apollo sighed. He ruffled Boxey's hair. "I'll be back, son." He leaned forward and kissed Athena's cheek. "Thank you, 'The. You're a gem."

****

Apollo took a detour to his own quarters, deciding that his father could just wait for him to take a quick turbowash before stripping him of his rank, or whatever other horrible punishments he could devise. He cleansed himself hurriedly, and switched on the IFB monitor in his sleeping room while he dried off and dressed .

The reporter, a middle-aged, balding man, spoke earnestly to the camera from behind a white desk. "The Council's decision to allow procreation only by permission of computer-regulated lottery was not lightly made, according to Councilor Tinia, whose idea it was to defer passage of a law of outright abstinence in favor of alternative sexual practices that cannot result in pregnancy. The Councilor's suggestion that an educational program be developed to encourage compliance with the new laws has resulted in the IFB's new series entitled "Sex for Recreation, Not Procreation", hosted by Lieutenant Starbuck, who is also the show's creative director. The program will be aired every Fourthday, with live call-in questions accepted on alternate Fourthdays. A note for concerned parents: although the subject matter is explicit, and anatomically-correct diagrams may be presented, there will be no actual nudity or live demonstrations on the show."

With a silent sound of relief, Apollo sank onto the sofa, and began to pull on his socks. The monitor was now showing a still-image of Starbuck, in uniform, with Councilor Tinia. Apollo wondered briefly whether Starbuck intended to wear his uniform on the show; he wasn't certain whether or not that would be a good idea - or maybe even against regulations. Now that the adrenaline had worn off somewhat, he was also beginning to worry that he had said more than Starbuck had ever wanted to hear in the way of affirmation of their relationship. After all, Starbuck had always seemed to avoid any overtly romantic sentiment, at least with Apollo; the floridly embellished declarations seemed to be reserved exclusively for the seduction of females.

"Lieutenant Starbuck, we have been told, is uniquely qualified to host the "Sex for Recreation" program. He has long been a favorite of the ladies of the Fleet, and is now involved in a relationship with his commanding officer, Captain Apollo."

Apollo groaned. The IFB made Starbuck sound like an opportunistic sex-fiend.

The balding reporter and the white desk returned to the monitor. "Lieutenant Starbuck refused to comment on any of his conquests, past or present, He did admit that he agreed to host the controversial program only on the condition that each episode be concluded with pre-recorded profiles and interviews of children who are up for adoption. It is his hope that couples who are not permitted to reproduce will consider adopting one of the many orphans who are now housed on the overcrowded Orphan Barge. Lieutenant Starbuck, as the IFB previously discovered, was one of the orphans found in the Thorn Forest on Caprica, following the Cylon raid on Umbra."

"Oh, Bucko!" Apollo sighed. "How could you think I'd be angry with you?" Once this obligatory conversation with his father was over, he was going to find Starbuck and hug him for at least a centar.

"The new Reproductive Restriction Act," the reporter went on, as Apollo haphazardly brushed his hair, "includes at least one rather unexpected provision. Sexual activity between same-sex partners, which was forbidden according to the pre-Destruction laws of certain Colonies, is now legalized. In addition, civil marriages between partners of the same gender are now recognized, which means that all legal rights applicable to opposite-sex married couples now apply to same-sex married couples. Interestingly enough, this provision was sponsored by Commander Adama."

Apollo, who had been headed for the door, paused in absolute shock. He turned his head back toward the IFB monitor.

"Correspondent Olena, on board the Galactica, interviewed the Commander in regard to this surprising bit of legislation." Apollo watched as an image of his father appeared, in uniform and looking sternly down at the perky little IFB reporter. He couldn't believe this was happening.

"Commander, it's been reported that you sponsored the provision of the new law which legalizes sexual activity and even marriage between same-sex partners. Is that true? And if so, can you explain why you did it?"

Adama's expression was the bland, rather disinterested one that he generally used when speaking to the IFB, or anyone else whom he considered not worth his time. "Yes, I recommended that provision because it clearly supports the objective of the Reproductive Restriction Act. In addition, it was brought to my attention that certain Colonies had stringent laws against various sexual activities that have resulted in discriminatory acts and assault against individuals from other Colonies where no such prohibitions existed. We are now one Fleet, and we need one set of laws to govern all of us - laws that are applicable to our current circumstances, rather than laws carried forward from an antiquity whose challenges we cannot fully comprehend."

Very clever, Father, Apollo thought. He wanted to let out a whoop of joy.

"Then, Commander, you are saying that you approve of your son's relationship with Lieutenant Starbuck?" the reporter asked in a chirpy tone.

Adama smiled indulgently down at Olena. "In case you haven't noticed, Captain Apollo is well past the age where he would ask for my opinion as to whom he dates. I suspect I'll be notified of his choice when he is ready for marriage."

Apollo didn't bother shutting off the monitor; he just set out for the Commander's quarter's at a run. The door was open, so he walked in, breathing rather heavily. "Father, I just saw - "

Adama stood and came out from behind his desk, looking concerned. "Apollo, what happened? Athena said you'd be right here - and that was fifteen centons ago."

"I'm sorry I'm late - had to take a turbowash." Apollo took a deep breath, then threw his arms around his Commander. "Oh, Father, you're wonderful! Thank you."

Adama hugged his son back. "For what? For telling the IFB that you're old enough to date whom you wish?"

"Well, yes." Apollo drew back to look at his father. "And for that provision of the new law that you sponsored."

Adama was scowling. "I didn't do that for you, Apollo," he said. "I did that because it was right."

Apollo grinned. "I know. That's why I'm thanking you - for not letting some old, stuffy, religious canon law get in the way of what's right."

"I'm glad you agree, then. So, you aren't really involved with Starbuck, are you?" Adama sat on the edge of his desk, and looked expectantly at his son.

"If you want the answer to that question, maybe you should watch the IFB broadcast." Apollo kept his tone level. "I'm not sure that I could ever be as eloquent as I was when the reporter confronted me coming off of patrol. But the short answer is yes."

He frowned when, instead of an immediate response, Adama picked up the little pyramid ornament. He could have sworn that the thing was made of some black stone when he saw it last. He could see now that it was made of clear crystal, just as Starbuck had said.

"Good," Adam said breezily. "I'm assuming that this is a serious relationship. I never much cared for Starbuck's passing fancies. It's time for him to settle down. If we could reap wild oats, we could feed the whole Fleet on the ones that Starbuck has sown."

Apollo raised an eyebrow at his father's grumbling. "I thought that you didn't approve of Starbuck when Athena was dating him."

"I didn't," Adama declared. "I knew that he wasn't in love with her."

"But you think he's in love with me?" Apollo squeaked. "And that's acceptable to you?"

Adama spun the little crystal pyramid. "I know he's in love with you, Apollo. He always has been. I wasn't sure exactly how you felt about him, however." He smiled. "Until I saw what you said to Gwenna on the IFB news." The Commander drew his son to him again for another brief hug. "I'm proud of you, Apollo. I'm proud to be the father of a man who dares to speak the truth, even when it might not be popular or accepted. I can't say I understand why you would want Starbuck over Sheba, but you know I've always felt like Starbuck was a third son of mine. Your mother felt the same way. He's a good man, our Starbuck, if a bit - unconventional. I don't worry as much for your safety when he's with you. He always manages to bring you back."

"He does, doesn't he?" Apollo chuckled. "Of course, it's a safe bet that we'll get into some kind of trouble first."

"Hmm," Adama frowned. "There is that. I'll never forget how he managed to become Constable of Serenity on Sectar by winning a card game!"

"It never would have happened if I'd been with him," Apollo assured his father.

"Probably not." Adama slapped his hands against his thighs. "Well, I've asked Athena to bring Boxey to me for Sleep Cycle, and I've sent Starbuck to your quarters with a bottle of my best ambrosa. You'd best hurry before he falls asleep. He's had a hard day - worrying about how angry you'd be about the IFB program. I sat in on a session he held with the Council - he's really quite informative and entertaining. The ladies dote on him - as usual." Adama smiled slyly.

"Are you trying to make me jealous, Father?" Apollo had always loved and revered his stern and mostly-absent father, but in the past yahren or so since the Destruction, he had seen facets of Adama's character that made him love and respect him even more. And he was learning for the first time that his father really loved him - loved just plain Apollo as opposed to Strike Captain Apollo.

Adama laughed. "Don't think I won't get back at you for not rescuing me from Siress Belloby. I'm not going to forget about that." He propelled Apollo toward the door. "Off you go! I've told Colonel Tigh that you and Starbuck are off-duty for the next two cycles." **** "Starbuck?" Apollo's quarters were dark when the door opened. He ordered up the lights, but nothing happened. He moved toward the bedroom, hitting his knee against a low table in the process. "Frack!" He rubbed at the bruised spot. "Starbuck!" Once in the bedroom, he tried the lights again, but the darkness remained absolute. It didn't matter. Somehow, he knew, he just sensed that Starbuck was in his bed. He stripped off his clothes and laid them on a chair, silently wishing that Starbuck could see him. And that he could see Starbuck. He reached his hand down and encountered warm, smooth flesh. A hip. He stroked it gently. His hand was captured in a strong grip, and then it was being covered with kisses. Gratitude? For what? And were those tears he felt? "Hey, Bucko, before I ask you what you're doing, I just want to say that I understand everything, and I think that you're the most extraordinarily wonderful man I've ever known. I didn't know the part about the orphans until I came back here after our patrol and saw one of the IFB broadcasts. That was a brilliant move, Starbuck. So right, and so like the man you really are." A soft sigh in the darkness. "Then you aren't angry with me?"

Apollo flipped his hand against a rounded buttock in reproof. "How can you even think that I'd be angry? Or ashamed of you? I know I've been stupid about certain things in the past - slow, as Boxey would call it. And I've been jealous because I can't imagine why the magnificent Starbuck would ever want to forsake all of his centurons of lovers for me."

"Because I love you, Pol." Starbuck's voice was clear and steady. "I've seen it three times on the IFB monitor - that you came right out and said that you were my lover - and I still can't believe it."

"Believe it, Star." Apollo slid under the sheets and gathered Starbuck in his arms, clasped him in a fierce embrace. He attempted a kiss, but had trouble finding his lover's mouth in the total darkness. They both laughed breathlessly until their lips fused in a long, deep kiss.

"Wow," Starbuck said finally, when they broke apart. "Who needs lights? The lights are all out in this section of the ship. Someone will fix it in a few centars - apparently some wiring was jolted loose. The Facilities tech said it looked like some maniac hit the wall in just the wrong spot."

"Probably me, when I heard about the Fourthday thing." Apollo slid his hand down Starbuck's strong, sleek back to the rounded globes of his buttocks. "Can you believe my father? He really does love me - enough to support whatever personal decisions I make. I never would have thought it."

"Your father is a great man, Apollo. I've had several conversations with him over the past secton or two. And I think he actually likes me. He scared me there for a centon though, Apollo - he point-blank asked me if I was in love with you a few cycles ago." Starbuck's hands began some wandering of their own.

"Lords of Kobol! What did you say, Star?"

Starbuck nuzzled Apollo's chest, found a nipple and suckled briefly. "I said yes - what was I going to do - lie to the Commander? He always knows when I lie to him!" Starbuck's lips suctioned at the taut skin of Apollo's abdomen. "And as it turned out, he wasn't angry. He just nodded as though he expected it. And he gave me a bottle of good ambrosa when he sent me here to wait for you." Starbuck's hand grasped the base of Apollo's erection, his tongue swirling around the flared head, before his mouth and throat engulfed the entire rigid length.

"Gods, Star!" Apollo gasped. "You're too good at this! I'm going to watch every one of your shows on IFB - or record them if I'm on patrol. Then I'll practice on you. And before I forget - before it drives me out of my fracking mind - what in all the hells is a Viper Kiss?"

Apollo could feel Starbuck smiling as he gradually lifted his head. "This, my dear lover, is a Viper Kiss." He lowered his head again, and showed him.

****

Boxey was obviously not ready to sleep yet. Adama sighed. He had told his grandson three stories, and still the little boy's eyes were wide open.

"Another story, please?" Boxey begged.

"All right, but just one more." Adama took a breath and began. "On the planet Kobol, there were many wondrous things. Magic things that we can't even imagine. But this story is about a little crystal pyramid. To most people, it was just a pretty little ornament. But to those who knew how to tune their minds to it, it was a powerful tool. You see, when a question was asked, and a false answer was given, the crystal pyramid would turn black."

Boxey blinked, but displayed no signs of sleepiness. "You mean like the pyramid on your desk?"

Adama nodded.

"It turns black when someone is lying?

Adama nodded again.

"I knew it." Boxey nodded sagely. "My Dad and Starbuck made up that story about the crawlons in the Blue Squadron quarters so they could have an excuse for a sleepover."

THE END