BY YOUR COMMAND - Static ARCHIVE

"Yes, sir, I understand.  We'll be ready."

Apollo terminated the communications link then sighed heavily and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the paper-scattered desk and dropping his head into his hands, thrusting his fingers through his dark hair.  The pain that for days had threatened to rip apart his skull was now making itself known to the rest of his body, knifing through his neck and down his back, seeming to pierce every inch of his spine.  He sighed again and looked at the medication bottle he had gotten from Doctor Salik in the Life Center.

It was empty.  He had taken the last of the pills two centars before, and knew there was not another to be found.  He knew because he had nearly torn his quarters apart while searching.

He dragged his body away from the desk and sat back in his chair, laying his head against the neck-rest and closing his eyes.  Colonel Tigh had just sent word to him to warn that approval had been given to embark on another dangerous mission to a Cylon-infested planet that had been mistakenly thought barren.  And Apollo knew that with this mission came the distinct possibility that he or any other member of his squadron may not come back.  So many people had already been lost to the Cylons' murderous zeal, and it hurt him deeply to know that before the battle to preserve mankind as they knew it was over there would be many more casualties.

Too many deaths . . .

The men and women that fought for the fleet and its people were fearless warriors that had long ago vowed to defend and, if need be, die for those in their protective charge.  To Apollo, these warriors were so much more than faceless, nameless fighters placed under his command.  They were his friends, his family.

And one of them was his lover.

A slight smile crossed his face.  Starbuck had been his best friend for as long as he remembered, and he treasured that friendship above all else, even his own life.  Opposite in manner and personality, they balanced and complemented each other.  Apollo's mother had often said that they were two halves of the same whole; Starbuck was light to her son's dark.

He sighed.  After Zac and Serina's deaths, that darkness had welled inside of him and spread across his soul, tainting it with cynicism and eclipsing Starbuck's light.  And for a very long time, he had pushed others away in an almost desperate need to protect himself from more hurt and anguish.  He had already had too many painful memories etched into his mind and carried too much guilt wrought from decisions he had been forced to make.

He hadn't the strength for more.

However, Starbuck had refused to be exiled.  Instead, he had become a lifeline when Apollo had found himself lost in that darkness.  He had forced him to reopen his eyes to the life around him, refusing to let him hide behind the barriers he had so carefully erected, making him face the uncertain future with promises that he would never walk alone.  Eventually, Apollo had grasped the hand Starbuck reached out to him, had allowed the sanctuary his friendship offered, and together they had faced the deadliest of storms.

Then Starbuck had showed his hand in what was the biggest gamble of his life:  He told Apollo that he loved him.

That honest heartfelt confession had made Apollo realize that the kind of love he had shared with Serina, the kind he had despaired of ever finding again, was there once more within his heart.  It had been safely hidden under the guise of friendship, afraid to accept that there could be so much more to his relationship with Starbuck.  Once accepted, though, these feelings flowed over him, warming him like the Caprican sun, and he had basked in the emotions.  With Starbuck's help, he had pushed the fear aside, concentrating on their shared love and let it drive away the darkness that had nearly claimed his soul.

And for the first time in yahrens, he had felt as though he were home.

He stood and walked over to the bar.  Then he knelt down and retrieved his best bottle of ambrosia and a glass then straightened again, looking up as the door slid open and admitted Starbuck.

"You're not really going to drink that now, are you?" Starbuck asked as he walked toward the bar.  He folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head slightly to one side, arching a blond brow and frowning.  "It's just for effect, right?"

"Not an effect."

"Apollo . . . ." Starbuck leaned one hip lazily against the bar-counter, but there was nothing lazy about his blue eyes.  He gazed at Apollo, unblinking, his stare like that of a great predator eyeing its prey.

Apollo shot a glare at him and pushed the bottle and glass away.  "My voice of reason and thy name is Starbuck."  He exhaled sharply.  "I take it you've heard?"

He nodded.  "Confirmed Cylon outpost--full arsenal.  When do we leave?"

"We meet with Tigh and the commander in a centar."

Starbuck nodded again.  He moved behind Apollo then reached down and laced their fingers together then brought their arms up and around his chest, pulling him close.  He sighed, smiling as Apollo's head fell back against his shoulder, then trailed soft kisses from jaw line to ear, his tongue slipping inside, and nuzzling his whisker-roughened cheek into the thick dark hair.

"Head still hurt?"

"Yes."

"You're letting all of this get to you, Apollo," Starbuck whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple.  "Don't think about it.  Concentrate only on you and me, right here, right now."

Apollo closed his eyes and moaned softly, relaxing his body and relishing the feel of that strong, steady heartbeat thumping at his back.  Then he turned in Starbuck's arms and met his eyes, finding love, longing, and concern along with the solemn promise that it was all for him, and that it would always remain for only him.  He breathed in the scent that was uniquely Starbuck.  Warmth spread through his body, his heart.  He could feel the hypnotic pull in those blue orbs and obeyed their summons, letting them enfold him, surround him, swamp him.  They called to him like nothing else could.

Especially when they were beckoning him home.

A warm hand wrapped around the nape of his neck, drawing him closer, and he tilted his head upward, his mouth eager to greet the one seeking his, their lips meeting in a soft, tender kiss that held the merest trace of passion and a lifetime of love.

"We have a centar," Starbuck whispered, shuddering hard as Apollo's mouth sought his once more, as those firm lips claimed his and moved hard and hungrily against them.  Drawn like a moth to flame, he pulled Apollo closer still and opened his mouth to the tongue demanding entry, giving in willingly as it swept inside, his own rising at once to greet it, a thick moan loosing from his throat as he free fell to total devastation.  The urgency of Apollo's kiss awakened an answering need in him, set free the uninhibited creature that lay just beneath the surface.  Uttering a low, guttural groan, he dug his nails into Apollo's shoulder and dragged them down his back.  Apollo shuddered violently and Starbuck tore his mouth free from their sweet prison.  "Come to bed with me, Apollo," he said shakily, grasping his lover's hand and leading them to toward their sleeping quarters.  "Let me love you."

They undressed in silence then Starbuck gently lowered Apollo to the bed, his breath hitching, his body trembling.  For long, long moments, he merely gazed at the naked offering before him, his desire unbearable and made even stronger by the knowledge that Apollo wanted him every bit as much. 

"Starbuck," Apollo called out, reaching for the arms that promised sanctuary, sighing as a hand, familiar as his own, brushed across his face in a tender caress.  "Star--"

"Shh, don't talk; just feel."

Closing his eyes, Apollo felt his wrists grasped, trembling as each palm was kissed then laid to rest at his sides.  His mind called out, and as though in reply, fingers carded through his hair and a warm mouth descended upon his, moving over it softly and tenderly, the feel of lips beyond gentle as they memorized the texture and shape of him, ever deepening as he moaned, his own mouth opening to accept a long exhale of breath and lick of tongue.  Torrents of heat shot through him, spreading over and consuming him until his body felt like a living flame.

Starbuck gently nudged Apollo's legs apart and knelt between them, again capturing and kissing the hands that reached for him, then up-righted his lover, pulling him closer, positioning him atop his thighs.  He smiled as he felt Apollo wrap his arms and legs tightly about him, and a warm breath caressed his neck as that dark head nestled into his shoulder.  Time seemed to cease as they clung to one another, their bodies melding as surely as if they had come from the same mold, their hearts beating in slow, steady beats.

"Starbuck?"

"Shh."

Apollo groaned as a soothing kiss touched his neck, and loosed a slow, hissing breath, heat sweeping through him and his shaft surging to hard and hungry life, as the breath from that mouth wafted over the pulse point throbbing just beneath his skin, and he shuddered hard as a raspy, insistent tongue followed that breath.

"Starbuck, don't . . . ."

"Look at me."

The quiet, decisive tone in that command tugged at Apollo's heart, and he felt helpless to do anything other than obey.  Slowly, he opened his eyes, losing himself in the ones glittering before him, letting them draw him closer and entrance him with their steady blue gaze.  From afar, he heard a voice, a low beautifully pitched voice.  He raised trembling hands and reached out, his fingers tracing the planes of that beautiful face, smiling as Starbuck's breath hitched.  Then, suddenly, he plunged both hands deep into the blond-gleamed hair and pulled his lover ever closer, claiming his mouth with savage intensity, plundering with shameless abandon, harshly nipping and sucking at wet swollen lips, scraping his tongue against teeth and twining it over and around its impatient mate, delving deeper and harder until he had to break away from the sheer wonder.

"Please . . . ."

"I'm not going to leave you, Apollo.  Not now, not ever."

"You can't promise that.  Neither of us can."

"Oh, but, I can," Starbuck said, pressing a hand lightly over Apollo's mouth.  "Want to know how?"

Apollo nodded.

"You," Starbuck whispered.  "I know you'll always be there to bring me back."  He lowered Apollo to the bed, covering him with his own body.  "Hush now.  No more words."  He knew the odds, despite his promise, and knew that this may be his final centar in Apollo's arms.  He gazed lovingly at the man, capturing in his mind's eye the dark hair and worry-creased face with its sculpted cheekbones, the tempting, seductive mouth and fathomless verdant eyes, all the while thinking how easily he could drown in their depths.

"I love you."

Apollo reached up, capturing Starbuck's face in his hands, and traced his thumbs over his mouth and cheeks.  "I love you."  He pulled the blond head close to his and buried their mouths together, blending as light does into dark and dark does into light.  As passion reigned freely, they reached that special place where neither the past nor the future existed.  There was only the two of them locked together sans time or reason.

Starbuck roamed his hands freely over Apollo's skin, his fingers inflaming and soothing, growing intoxicated over the feel of that warm flesh.  No other lover had excited him like this--no other lover had ever existed.  He smoothed over the chiseled face, touched and kissed the hardened planes of chest and stomach, digging his fingers deeper into ticklish ribs.  His hand edged lower, brushing over the thick patch of wiry hair at the center of his lover's body, and massaged the crease between groin and thigh, dipping ever lower to tease and play with the tight opening, then slowly moved upward, sliding over the shaft that curved high and hard against the flat belly.

Apollo moaned deeply at that touch, his hands finding purchase on Starbuck's slick back, and buried his face into his neck, tasting sweat and salt.  And then he shifted lower, kissing and nipping along the smooth chest, taking each pink nipple into his mouth and sucking hungrily at it.  He heard his lover's strong heartbeat beneath his ear, felt it with his fingertips and thanked the fates that had brought this man to him so many yahrens before.  He listened intently, let the beat lull him until he felt himself drifting in a haze, and then cried out sharply as a hand wrapped around his aching shaft, sliding over it with strong, determined strokes, bringing fountains of pure joy and pleasure.  His breath tore from his lungs and came in short, harsh gusts as he arched his body hard against Starbuck's, squirming for relief.

Starbuck snagged a thick pillow, then urged Apollo to lift his hips and slid it under them.  Never taking his gaze from Apollo, he settled himself beneath the long, well defined legs and moved closer, then reached for the bottle of oil sitting atop the night table and opened it.  He quickly prepared himself, and then pleasured his lover with gentle fingers and deep teasing strokes.  Apollo gasped and arched his hips as those fingers tormented him, as fire flowed through his veins.  As soon as he felt the guardian muscles give, Starbuck withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his thick shaft, pushing himself slowly into Apollo's body and shuddering as that moist heat closed about him.

Apollo could not speak, but arched his back as first pain then pleasure overwhelmed him.  Starbuck was so hard and hot inside him, filling and completing him.  But, still he needed more, and thrust down to force Starbuck even further into him.

At that movement, Starbuck's breath drove out of his lungs and caught in his throat.  He began to move, thrusting with long, hard strokes, his hips pushing forward, going deeper and deeper.  Agony of the sweetest kind swept over him again and again as Apollo's body surrounded him, claimed him, yielded to him, and captured him within its grasp.

Apollo moved in perfect harmony with the body manipulating him so beautifully, matching each stroke and each thrust, clenching his inner muscles, relaxing, and clenching again, his head pressed into the pillows, his hands sliding over Starbuck's broad, sweat-soaked back, nails digging into his skin.  He gasped harshly, arching his back as a hand slipped between their bodies and grasped his aching shaft, stroking in time with the powerful thrusts.

Neither could tell who was doing what to whom as their bodies joined as surely as their hearts had so many yahrens before.  Apollo felt Starbuck swell and harden even more, felt the increased tension, and heard his own name whispered as reverently as an offered prayer as his lover climaxed deep within him.  Once again, he reached up and captured Starbuck's face in his hands and drew their mouths together as his body throbbed in painful bliss and spiraled heavenward, convulsing in white-hot spasms, his seed spewing over his stomach and Starbuck's hand.

Starbuck carefully withdrew from Apollo and collapsed to the covers beside him, immediately pulling his lover into his embrace.  Their bodies pressed close together, their arms and legs twining about each other, the smell of sex on the air.  For long moments the only sound in the room was their ragged breathing.

Starbuck smiled.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Two centars later, after meeting with Colonel Tigh and the commander, they walked toward the launch bay.  Swallowing hard, Apollo gave one last loving look at Starbuck then forced all personal thoughts out of his mind.  He stopped for a moment and closed his eyes, focusing his attention on the mission and planet that lay ahead.

Starbuck watched quietly and waited.  When Apollo's eyes opened, he sighed softly and nodded.  A hardened, determined mask had covered his features, and his eyes were no longer warm verdant, but now icy green.  In that moment, in that heartbeat, Starbuck knew that the man standing before him was not his lover, but his captain and strike leader.  They continued on to the launch bay.  The mission at hand was top priority now, and they would not fail.  He knew that for certain.

His captain would not allow it.

The End