Newly promoted Captain Apollo stepped off the shuttle that had brought him to his new assignment: the Galactica, one of the finest battlestars in the Fleet. His new commander, his father, stood ready to greet him, his face solemn, but pride gleaming from his eyes. He managed without difficulty to keep the smile from his own face as he saluted and requested permission to board, a formality, since the shuttle had already been granted permission to land, but proper protocol for new officers.
“Welcome aboard, Captain,” Commander Adama said.
“Thank you, sir.”
“I’ve scheduled a meeting for later this morning so you can meet your pilots. I presume you’ll want a centar or so to unpack. I’ve already had your gear taken to your quarters. Let me show you the way.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“And Apollo...”
“Yes sir?”
“It’s good to see you, son.”
“Good to see you too, father,” he answered with a false smile plastered on his face.
@@@
Once in his quarters, Apollo quickly unpacked the few things he’d brought with him: a few uniforms, a few pictures, some books, and one or two civilian outfits. He didn’t have much. He tried to arrange things to make it appear as though he had more, but stopped as he reached one last picture. It went with him wherever he was posted but he never put it out where anyone could see it; it remained in the bottom of his sock drawer wherever he went. He stopped and looked at it for a centon.
It was obviously an old picture, dating back several yahrens, back to his Academy days. His own face beamed happily from the picture, an expression it hadn’t worn since then. Beside him was the reason for the smile, and also the reason for the subsequent lack thereof: Starbuck. His onetime best friend and lover. He snorted at that thought. Starbuck had been nothing but a gold-digger, out to seduce him and then accept the bribes his family offered to leave him. Apollo looked at that once beloved face and felt again the hurt the man had caused. Angrily he slammed the picture down on the seat beside him, unable to bear the expressions of joy that both faces wore.
He rose and nearly threw the picture into the garbage disposal chute, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.
“I should,” he thought irritably, but he knew he never would. He still loved the boray, even after everything that had happened. The pain of that betrayal hurt just as much today as it had then. He looked at his chrono and sighed. Time to go meet his new officers. He glanced in the mirror to make sure he looked like a captain should: everything neatly pressed, clean and shiny.
@@@
Starbuck couldn’t stand still. He wandered around the room, chatting, laughing, and making people laugh. The Commander hadn’t told them who their new captain was, but there was plenty of speculation. Starbuck had even placed a few wagers on who it would be. As he was telling a particularly salacious joke, he heard the signal for them to fall in so they could meet this new officer.
Standing at attention, he allowed his thoughts to touch on the man who commanded them. Commander Adama was a good commander, with good instincts and good control over his warriors. A former pilot himself, he understood what motivated the pilots under his command and treated them, for the most part, with respect and dignity. “For the most part,” Starbuck snorted to himself. That hadn’t always been the case. Starbuck thought back sadly to his first encounter with the father of the man he’d loved. Adama had been cruel then, offering him a bribe to leave his son, and then threatening him when he didn’t accept. It had been hard to leave Apollo, harder than anything he’d ever done. He’d learned at a very young age not to let anyone inside the armor he wore over his true emotions to protect them from the pain of loss; people always left. But Apollo had broken through that armor, forced him to admit that he needed someone to love. After he’d left Apollo, the armor had gone back up and no one had really attempted to pierce it again. Not that they could have if they’d tried. He was determined not to leave himself open to that kind of pain ever again. He was a gambler, the life of every party, the best lay any of his lady friends had ever experienced, but he was empty inside that armor.
Commander Adama entered and stood behind the podium.
“We have all grieved the loss of Captain Talia,” he began. “But there comes a time when the grieving must end and we must face the future and get on with our lives. Captain Talia was an excellent officer and we mourn her passing.” He paused. “Today we have a new captain who will continue, I’m sure, where Captain Talia left off. His name is...”
Starbuck routinely daydreamed during these squadron meetings. Unless he knew he would be called on later to use the information in battle, he let his mind wander. On the outside he was all attention, only his blank eyes revealing that his mind was elsewhere. He could fool most people with that look. There’d been only one person who could see through it and Starbuck would never see him again.
His idyll was interrupted by a familiar sounding voice a few centons later.
“Lieutenant Starbuck,” the Commander introduced him. “One of our best pilots.”
Starbuck came back to the present with a grin that faded as soon as he saw the new captain.
“A-apollo?” he stammered.
“Daydreaming again, Lieutenant?” his former lover said coldly.
“Ah, no sir, I just...”
“We’ll talk about that later, Lieutenant.”
“Yes sir,” the blond sighed. He stared after Apollo, wanting to grab him in a hug and kiss him, but knowing by the expression on his face that any such attempt, in public or in private, would be met with resistance. Probably with a fist.
He lingered for a centon after they were dismissed, wanting a word with Apollo, yet dreading the probable outcome of such a meeting. He caught Apollo’s eye, but the Captain frowned and turned away coldly.
“You okay, Bucko?” someone beside him asked, he didn’t care who.
“Yeah, fine,” he replied faintly.
“So we’ve got the Commander’s sonny-boy as our new captain, huh? Wonder how he got that rank and this job so young?” the man sneered.
“He got it because he’s a damn fine warrior and pilot,” Starbuck snarled, rounding on the offending warrior.
“Hey, take it easy, man! I didn’t know you knew him.”
Starbuck merely turned and walked away. He couldn’t believe the Commander hadn’t warned him about Apollo’s arrival! He had to have known that it was Apollo who’d been assigned to the Galactica!
He made it to his quarters somehow, ignoring everyone who tried to get his attention. Stripping off his dress uniform, he reached into his locker for his regular uniform. A picture sat on the top shelf, the smiles mocking him. It was identical to the one Apollo carried with him. The two of them beamed happily, arms intertwined, eyes gleaming. Starbuck slammed it face down on the shelf, almost breaking the glass that protected the picture. When his hands stopped shaking, he reached for it again, deliberately this time. He carried it back to his bunk in the empty BOQ and stared at it for a long time. He didn’t know why he kept the thing, but it was one of the few things that had followed him wherever he was posted. Gently he caressed the face that smiled up at him. He remembered the day it had been taken; it was the last day he’d been truly happy. Apollo’s father had come to him that evening to offer him a huge sum of money to leave Apollo and never see him again.
@*@*@* PART 2 @*@*@*
Apollo was finally meeting with his new warriors, going over duty assignments. “Lieutenant Starbuck,” he said finally. He’d deliberately left this one until last.
“Yes sir?”
“It appears that you don’t have a wingman.”
“No sir, Captain Talia was my wingleader,” he said in a quiet voice.
“You’ll have to be my wingman then.” It took so much effort for him to say that, but he had to do it, to prove to himself that it was over between them.
“*Your* wing...” Starbuck couldn’t keep the shock from his voice.
“Yes, that’s what I said. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No sir.”
“And we have duty in less than a centar. I suggest that you do whatever you need to get ready.”
“Yes sir.”
“Any questions or comments?” Apollo asked the room in general.
“No sir.”
“Dismissed then.”
@@@
Starbuck staggered to the OC.
“Hey teacher’s pet, don’t drink too much or the Captain won’t want you for his wingman anymore,” Bojay teased.
Trying for his usual nonchalance, Starbuck replied, “Hey, I can’t help it if he wants the best.”
Bojay snorted. “Yeah, right. In your dreams, pal!”
“Just look at the record, ‘Jay; my record speaks for itself.”
“Oh really? Then why do you have to brag about it so much?”
“It’s not bragging if it’s the truth.” Starbuck could keep up the smug facade all day, from sheer practice. “First round’s on me.”
Despite his brave words, he limited himself to a glass of fruit juice. He wanted, desperately wanted, to run and hide somewhere, to get away from the pain that was gnawing at the armor, but there was no way he could. There was no place to hide.
He glanced at his chrono. Time to get ready for patrol. He paid the barman for the round of drinks he’d bought and headed for the viper launch bay, to all appearances his normal self.
Going through the usual pre-flight checks helped him forget his problems for a few centons. Then he heard Apollo’s voice.
“Is my wingmate here yet?” he asked.
“Lt. Starbuck arrived some five centons ago,” Starbuck’s crew chief answered.
“At least you’re on time,” Apollo said tonelessly as he spotted his former friend.
“Just doing my job.”
“Mm-hmm.” The Captain checked his own viper thoroughly before he climbed into the cockpit. It was a ritual they’d both perfected at the Academy. He avoided thinking about why they’d started it. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust their crews; it was as a means to assure each other that they would come back safely. It had become routine though, and a habit that Apollo encouraged in his men as well.
The patrol was one long exercise in torture for both of them. Starbuck normally chattered to his wingleader, making the time go by quicker, but his shock at seeing Apollo again kept him tongue-tied. Even when he did try to make conversation, his efforts were met with monosyllabic answers at best.
Apollo couldn't help but remember patrols he'd flown with Starbuck *before*. The memories crowded into his mind, refusing to leave him alone. Part of him wanted to turn his lasers onto his former lover, but the rest of him wanted to cry out, "Why? Why did you leave me?"
Fortunately nothing happened during the patrol, since neither man's attention was focused on what he was supposed to be doing.
Starbuck tried to get Apollo's attention as he headed to decontamination. The plaintive note in the other man's voice tugged at the brunet as it always had. Usually when Starbuck used that tone, he was able to get Apollo to do anything he wanted. For that very reason, the Captain pretended not to hear his former lover call his name. By the time Starbuck came out of decon himself, Apollo was already gone.
@*@*@* PART 3 @*@*@*
They continued in much the same manner, avoiding each other when possible, tolerating each other's presence when they couldn't avoid it.
Apollo kept to himself much of the time, not socializing with the other pilots, to the point that he got thoroughly bored with his own company. He finally ventured out to the OC, one cycle when he was sure Starbuck would be elsewhere. The room got quiet as he entered. He ordered an ale for himself and sat at a table in the corner, eyes scanning the crowd for a friendly face.
Just when he'd decided to leave, a familiar voice sounded in his ear.
"Hi, Captain. Good to see you finally out of your quarters," Jolly greeted.
"Hi, Jolly. It's been a long time, hasn't it?"
"Yeah, it has. Can I buy you another?" he asked, indicating Apollo's near-empty mug.
"Thanks."
"You still prefer that Caprican stuff?"
Apollo smiled at the familiar dig. Jolly held that Sagittan ale was the best and had always teased him about it. "Yeah, still have no taste, I guess."
"You don't know what you're missing," he joked as he signaled the barman for another round. After the drinks had been delivered, Jolly grew serious. "You know, Starbuck has missed you a lot..."
The cold gleam in Apollo's eyes stopped Jolly's voice. "I just bet."
"He's been miserable since you won't talk to him. He..."
"Did he put you up to this?" Apollo demanded coldly.
"No, he hasn't said a word about it, but I know him so well after all these yahrens that..."
"I really don't want to discuss my former relationship with the Lieutenant, Sergeant," the Captain said, rising from his seat.
"Captain, I..."
"That's all right. I have some work to do anyway."
Bojay hurried over to Jolly's side as soon as Apollo was out of the door. "What was that all about?" he demanded.
"It's their personal business," the round sergeant said sadly, turning back to his own drink.
@*@*@* PART 4 @*@*@*
"All right, Blue Squadron, we're going down to the surface to search for possible tylium deposits," Apollo informed his men.
"Oh great!" someone huffed. "Join the military and seek out new places for mines."
"Because of our ongoing war with the Cylons," Apollo reprimanded, "we're constantly in need of new sources of tylium. If you have any better suggestions, I'm sure the Council of the Twelve is open to them." Turning his attention back to the mission at hand, he continued, "Each team will consist of two warriors, wingmates, and will be assigned a specific search area. Any questions?"
Since no one answered, the Captain gave the order to board the shuttles that would take them to the surface. Four vipers traveled with them, for escort purposes, one for each shuttle.
On board the shuttles, most wingmates sat together, since they would be getting off together. Apollo, however, leaned up against the side of the shuttle, close to the front, chatting quietly with the pilots as they flew toward their destination. Starbuck joked with the other pilots, but he couldn't resist glancing up at his wingmate a few times.
Apollo had matured nicely, he decided. His face was leaner than it had been last time they'd seen each other, and it highlighted his cheekbones and deep green eyes beautifully. If anything, he was more attractive now than he had been when he was younger.
While Starbuck was covertly assessing Apollo, the Captain was likewise observing his former lover. He caught a glimpse of Starbuck laughing at something someone had said, then turned his head deliberately to still the pain. Instead he turned his attention back to the conversation he was having with the pilots.
When they landed on the planet, Apollo assigned each team a sector to search, the landram taking each pair to their appointed location. His and Starbuck's area was the second furthest away, so they were last to get off before Jolly and his wingmate went on to their own spot.
They spent the first few sectares scanning the area, finding nothing.
"Doesn't look like we're going to have much daylight left," Apollo noted. "We'd better find a place to camp."
Starbuck had been nearly silent the entire time, the memories of what had been and what had happened, what *he* had done to hurt the man he loved, keeping his mind occupied. He nodded as Apollo spoke to him for the first time.
They walked on until they found a small clearing beside a stream.
"This looks like a good spot. I'll set up the tent while you look for some firewood."
Starbuck nodded and headed off into the woods.
When his wingmate didn't return by the time he'd managed to put the tent up, Apollo scowled and went into the woods himself. He'd only gone a few metrons when he saw a medium sized brown animal standing beside the stream, nibbling on the soft grass. The creature showed no fear of him, just kept on eating. Intrigued, Apollo moved slowly closer to it.
A sudden movement caused the animal to bolt. Before he could react, he felt a sudden weight pull him down, something across his mouth muffling any protest. A whispered, "Shh!" told him it was his wingmate on top of him.
Then he heard an unwelcome sound - a Cylon laser singed the air, leaving behind the smell of burnt leather. He stilled, knowing their enemy might find them at any micron.
"What-did-you-fire-at?" an emotionless, mechanical voice asked.
"I-saw-a-colonial-warrior."
"Which-way-did-it-go?"
"It-went-into-the-woods."
"Follow-and-capture-or-kill-the-warrior."
"By-your-command."
Apollo barely dared to breathe as the Cylons passed scant metrons away from them. He blew out his breath as he saw them pass into the woods after the animal. Starbuck rolled off him.
"I think they've gone. I hope they didn't hurt the cervid, but it smells like they hit it."
Starbuck gasped. "Wasn't the cervid."
The Captain turned to see his wingmate grimace and grasp his right arm as if it hurt. "You're hit? How bad is it? Let me see."
The blond shook his head. "I'm fine. We've got to warn the others, get back to the Galactica."
"That's an order, lieutenant." Gently he peeled off the other man's flight jacket. The burned wound stretched from the top of his shoulder down to his shoulder blade. It was a second degree burn, just shy of third, and had to hurt like hell. There was more to it than just the burn though - the laser fire had ripped through the muscle and that part was bleeding. "Dear God, Starbuck - can you make it back to the campsite? We have first aid equipment, bandages there."
"It's nothing."
"Starbuck, now is not the time to be heroic. Let me help you up. Do you think you can walk?"
"Of course I can walk! I don't need your help!" Just loud enough for Apollo to hear him, he muttered, "Some of us don't need Daddy to take care of us." It had the intended effect; stung, Apollo started walking toward the campsite, leaving Starbuck to follow in his wake.
When they reached the camp, the Captain bandaged his wingmate's shoulder in silence, still hurt by previous remark. Starbuck winced as Apollo bound the wound, but bore the pain stoically.
"I'm going to com Jolly and have him meet us back at the rendezvous point. Are you up to walking that far?"
The blond nodded. "We'd better get going."
Apollo spoke with Jolly as they walked, then commed the other teams to return as well. After a while he noticed that his wingmate had dropped behind him, moving slowly because of his wound. Starbuck was panting and sweating, his eyes almost glazed.
"Starbuck? Are you alright?"
The blond didn't answer, but took a few more steps and tripped over a root that protruded from the ground. Apollo caught him just before he fell.
"Starbuck? Answer me, Lieutenant!" When the other man didn't respond, he checked the bandage. "Bucko, you're bleeding again. I'll have Jolly meet us here."
Vaguely Starbuck was aware that Apollo was talking to someone else, but the only thing he cared about was that he was once again snuggled up to his love. He hoped the Captain didn't realize how much he was enjoying this simple contact. Somehow it made his shoulder hurt less, or at least seem to. Hopefully Apollo wouldn’t realize he was holding his former lover, would keep on holding him.
"Jolly's on his way, Bucko. We'll get you back to the Galactica and the doctors will help you," the Captain said after he finished talking to Jolly. Starbuck murmured something unintelligible and closed his eyes.
As Starbuck's eyes drifted shut, Apollo whispered the question that had been plaguing him for yahrens now: "Why did you leave me?"
The blond stirred. "Had to," he mumbled.
"What?"
"Had to leave. He was right."
"Who was right?"
"Your father. He said that flit officers never get promoted beyond Lieutenant. Couldn’t do that to you," Starbuck panted.
"But you could take my father's money," Apollo said bitterly.
"Didn't take the money."
"Starbuck, I saw the receipt where he deposited it into your account."
"Couldn't stop him from doing that, but I didn't keep it. Donated it to the orphanage anonymously... buy things for the kids."
"Oh my God," Apollo said weakly. Starbuck moved in his arms. The Captain held him closer. "I'm so sorry..."
"Don't be. Love you." With a weak smile, Starbuck slid into unconsciousness.
"I love you too, Bucko. Don't leave me!"
Apollo carefully placed another bandage over the first and put some pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding.
@*@*@* PART 5 @*@*@*
Jolly arrived some ten centons later, to find Apollo still holding Starbuck, trying to keep him warm.
"How bad is it?" the burly sergeant asked.
"Pretty bad, I'm afraid." Apollo managed to keep his voice level. "Help me get him up. Bucko?" He slapped the blond lightly on the cheek to wake him up. "Bucko, Jolly's here. We're going to put you in the landram so we can get you back to the ship."
Slowly, unwillingly, Starbuck's eyes opened. He could hear what the other man was saying, but everything seemed to be moving slowly, as if he were in a dream. When he realized that Apollo was still holding him, he knew it must be a dream. He tried to close his eyes again, but something slapped him on the cheek again, preventing him from going back to sleep. He swatted at the thing that was slapping him with his uninjured arm. His mind felt like it was weighed down with something, but he finally started to comprehend that Apollo was speaking to him. "Wha...?"
"Good. Jolly and I are going to put you in the landram now," the Captain said soothingly.
Starbuck grunted in response, then moaned as they lifted him gently and stowed him in the landram. They picked up the other warriors on their way back to the landing site. The others were solemn as they saw Starbuck's injury.
Apollo went into the shuttle to relay their findings to the Galactica.
"Alpha shuttle to Galactica." Apollo waited impatiently for a response.
"Alpha shuttle, this is core control."
"Finally! There are Cylons down here," Apollo warned calmly.
"There are Cylons up here, too," Commander Adama's voice came over the channel. "Stay put, Alpha shuttle, all our vipers are engaged and cannot be spared to protect you coming in."
"I've got a man down!"
After a brief pause, Adama asked, "How bad?"
"He took a laser shot in the shoulder. He's been unconscious off and on for about half a centar. He saved my life." His voice sounded strained.
**Silence.**
"Stay put. It won't do him any good for you to get yourself killed trying to get him here. Treat for shock. We'll get you up here as soon as we can, Alpha shuttle."
"Please hurry, sir, he's in bad shape." Apollo took a few deep breaths to steady himself, then stepped from the shuttle to where the others awaited him.
"Core control says we're to wait here. They're under attack by Cylons themselves."
"What about Starbuck?" Jolly asked anxiously.
"We need to treat him for shock. Elevate his feet; I'll get a blanket from the shuttle to keep him warm. Jolly, check his bandage; I think I have the bleeding stopped, but double check."
The others quickly followed Apollo's orders, then sat around the shuttle and waited, Apollo taking Jolly's place with Starbuck.
"I wish we could be up there fighting those Cylons," Bojay announced, drawing murmurs of assent from the other warriors.
"I do too," Apollo agreed. "But we can't take off right now. We'd just be in the way since we don't have weapons on the shuttle."
"How can you sit there so calmly when the man who just saved your life is lying there dying?"
"Bojay, there's no point in getting upset over it right now. Besides, if *we* act upset, it's likely to get Starbuck agitated and that could make the shock worse. I'm as anxious to get him to Life Center as you are, but it won't do Starbuck any good to get upset right now." As he spoke, he unconsciously stroked the injured man's hair.
The assembled warriors waited for another half-centar before they received the all clear from the Galactica. Jolly and Apollo moved Starbuck carefully onto the shuttle and made him as comfortable as possible, then Jolly stayed with him while Apollo took the pilot's chair himself.
Almost immediately after breaking away from the planet's atmosphere, the shuttle gave a lurch as if it had been hit. Apollo struggled with the controls for a few centons as the other warriors held on for dear life.
"Galactica, I thought it was clear out here," Apollo shouted into the microphone as he took evasive maneuvers.
"We missed one, sorry, captain," a warrior's voice came across the channel.
"Get rid of it... *now*!"
The warriors on the shuttle watched and cheered as the last remaining Cylon fighter exploded beside them.
"Frakking Cylon damaged the controls," Apollo announced, both to his passengers and the Galactica. "I don't think this is going to be a textbook landing."
The other pilots strapped themselves in safely. Jolly made sure Starbuck was secured before pulling the straps around himself, and kept a hand on the injured warrior in an effort to keep him calm.
The landing was definitely not a textbook landing. The shuttle bounced off the floor of the landing bay, throwing the passengers against their restraints and bruising a few of them. A crew of med techs awaited them. They concentrated first on Starbuck, making sure he was stable before transporting him to decontamination.
As they passed Apollo, Starbuck motioned with his good arm for them to stop so he could talk to his wingmate.
"'Pol," he began weakly.
"Bucko?"
"Even shot and bleeding to death, *I* could have made a better landing than that," he teased.
Apollo, expecting something completely different, stared at his love for a micron, and then began to laugh out loud, drawing stares from the crew and a smile from Starbuck.
@*@*@* PART 6 @*@*@*
The Captain was occupied for the next several days with recurring Cylon attacks, so he didn't have time to see much of Starbuck. Fortunately for him, he also didn't have much time to ask his father the questions that Starbuck's disclosures had raised.
Starbuck remained in Life Center for nearly a week. Upon his release, he went back to his quarters. He didn't remember much of the conversation he'd had with Apollo on the planet, since he'd been nearly in shock at the time.
"Bucko!" Bojay greeted him as he entered the room.
"Hey yourself, Boj!"
"How ya feeling, buddy?"
"Ah, I'm fine. Salik just kept me around because the med techs didn't want to let me go," the blond joked.
The other man snorted.
"Captain's been looking for you, Bucko," Jolly announced.
Surprised, Starbuck answered, "He has? I've been in Life Center, I couldn't have gotten into any trouble. Wonder what he wants."
"I dunno, he just said to give you the message when you got out."
"'Kay. I'll head over to the duty office once I get a little rest; I'm beat!"
"Sounded pretty urgent," the matchmaker advised.
"Hey, I just got out of Life Center, after a very serious injury. An injury I received saving *him*, as I recall."
"He's in his quarters right now."
"Pushy, pushy! Okay, okay, I'll go see what he wants!"
@*@*@*
A little nervous, Starbuck signaled at Apollo's door. A micron later, the door opened to reveal his former lover smiling at him. His heart gave an involuntary lurch at the smile.
"You wanted to see me, Captain?"
"Come in, Starbuck. Glad to see you out of Life Center. I'm sorry I wasn't able to visit you, but the Cylons have been giving us a hot time ever since we got back."
Since he didn’t remember their conversation on the planet, Starbuck was mystified at the other man's warm attitude. "Jolly said you had something to tell me?"
"Yes, I do." It was Apollo's turn to look nervous. He paced for a centon, and then realized that Starbuck was still standing. "Please, have a seat. How's your arm?"
"Much better, thanks. Salik says I should regain full use of the fingers on that hand within a few days."
There was an awkward silence as Apollo started pacing again. "How much do you remember from the planet?"
Starbuck shrugged. "Not much after I knocked you down." He was starting to get nervous again.
"After you saved my life," Apollo amended softly. "I want to thank you for that."
The blond looked down awkwardly. "It's what a wingmate does."
Apollo shook his head. "Not at the cost of your own life. Thank you, Star."
Starbuck's head popped up quickly at the old nickname, and he caught a glimpse of loving green eyes. His heart thudded in his chest, his breathing quickened.
"While we were down on that planet, while I was afraid you were going to die, you told me a few things."
"I... did?"
"Yes, you did. You told me that you didn't accept the money my father offered, and that you left to spare my career." In a whisper he added, "And you told me that you still love me."
Starbuck gasped, at a loss for words.
"So, again, thank you for saving my life, Star." The captain moved closer to the man he loved and kissed him gently on the lips. The blond resisted only a split-micron; his heart overwhelmed his head and accepted the love being offered. He knew it couldn't last, but he couldn't stop himself.
As he tasted what he had been missing ever since the Academy, Apollo moaned and deepened the kiss. His hands moved up almost involuntarily to stroke the face he loved so much, instinctively remembering where Starbuck loved to be touched. Starbuck sat still at first, in shock at the change in the man before him, then instinct took over and he raised his good hand to caress Apollo.
As they broke the kiss, wondering blue eyes asked a question which Apollo answered by taking hold of his hand and leading him to the bedroom.
@@@PART 7@@@
After they made love, Apollo held Starbuck close, relishing the closeness of his lover after such a long separation. Starbuck, still recovering from his injury, fell into a sated sleep afterward.
Apollo awoke first. It took him a centon to remember who was in his bed and why, but once he did remember, he smiled. He gently brushed the blond hair away from Starbuck's eyes, carding his fingers through the silky mane the way he used to before they broke up. Starbuck murmured and blue eyes fluttered open.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," Apollo said with a smile.
"Is this real?"
"As real as it gets."
"Do you know how many times I've dreamed about waking up in your bed again?" Starbuck asked with a chuckle.
"And here you are." Apollo smiled. "I've arranged for dinner to be brought in. I hope you still like fresh greens and bovine steak."
"Love 'em! But where did you get fresh steak from?"
"There has to be *some* advantage to being the Commander's son."
Starbuck looked away for a centon, the Commander's name bringing up some feelings he'd rather not deal with. He knew they had to face reality sometime, that this couldn't last, but he didn't want to spoil things.
"What's the matter, love?"
"Nothing," Starbuck lied, determined to enjoy this while it lasted.
The meal lasted for well over a centar, with soft words and kisses between bites. After eating, they lay down together again, just cuddling and enjoying the time together. They fell asleep with arms and legs entwined. Apollo woke first again. He stayed quiet, not waking his lover this time, reliving their lovemaking session. About half a centar after Apollo woke up, the outer door to his quarters opened.
"Who's there?" he called out.
His father answered.
"What are you doing here?" he asked coldly.
"I thought I might check up on my so..." the Commander stopped speaking as he reached the door and saw who was in bed with his son. "What is going on here?" he demanded.
"I believe a captain is entitled to some privacy."
"Why is he here?"
"He is here because I love him," Apollo answered, rising from the bed and pulling on a pair of shorts. "And he loves me." He moved into the other room to try to keep from waking Starbuck. "Why did you tell me that he accepted the money you gave him? He turned it down!"
"I told you what I did to save your career!" Adama insisted. "You know what would happen if this... this *thing* were to become public knowledge!"
"This *thing*, as you put it, is love."
"He still took the money. I showed you the deposit receipt."
"He donated that money to the orphanage where he grew up, for the kids who were still there. That would be easy enough to prove. I'm sure they have a record of it."
Adama looked nonplused. "I did it for your own good."
"You did it because you were ashamed to have a flit son!"
Starbuck began to stir as the angry voices finally reached his consciousness. He rose and wrapped himself in Apollo's robe, then went to see what was making his lover so angry. The blond froze as he reached the door and recognized Adama, memories of why he'd left Apollo in the first place returning in a flood. He knew what he had to do.
"Sir! I can explain!" he began.
"Can you, Lieutenant? I meant what I said before."
Starbuck shivered slightly at the memory of their previous conversation, yahrens before, where Adama had frightened him into leaving the one person he loved. "Yes sir, I don't doubt that, but..."
Both Adama and Apollo spoke at once.
"But nothing!" responded the Commander.
"Meant what you said...? What exactly did you say, father?"
Adama looked a little guilty, but said nothing.
"What did he say to you, Starbuck?"
"It's not important," the blond replied, refusing to look his lover in the eye.
"No, I want to know. What did he say?" Apollo was adamant.
In a whisper, Starbuck answered, "He threatened to expose us both if I didn't leave."
The Captain rounded on his father, his eyes sparking fire.
"So you did this for my own good? Does 'my own good' include threatening to do exactly what you said you were trying to prevent, trying to keep our love from becoming public?"
"Son, I..."
"I don't believe you! How could you do this to me, knowing how unhappy it would make me? I've been miserable ever since you lied to me and told me Starbuck was just in it for the money!"
Starbuck interrupted. "'Pol, wait. Sir, may I speak to Apollo privately for a centon?" He was torn between wanting to stay and wanting the best for Apollo, but he knew what he had to do. The Commander's appearance had made that decision a necessity.
The Commander unwillingly nodded his assent. The two men went into the bedroom area.
"'Pol, he's right. He was right then and he's right now."
"Right? How can you say...?"
"You come from a military background, how many flit officers do you know?"
"Not many, but..."
"No buts. There's no formal rule against it, but it's common enough practice; no matter how good an officer, if he's flit, he doesn't get promoted."
"I don't care about that, you know that, Starbuck!" Apollo declared passionately.
Adama's voice came through the door. "You're not the only officer involved, son."
"What?"
Starbuck closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hated to let Apollo think he was so self-serving, but it was probably the only thing that would convince him to let Starbuck go, for his own good.
"Starbuck has the potential to be an excellent officer. It would be unjust of you to condemn him as well as yourself."
"Star..." Apollo couldn't get the words out as his father's words hit home. His thoughts flashed to a conversation he'd had just before his transfer, with his former commander, about his recommendations for the promotions list. There was a promotions board coming up in another sectar. Much as he hated to admit it, their relationship could cost his love a well-deserved promotion.
The blond refused to look at him.
"Star, I... I'm sorry. I didn't think about..."
"'Pol, I..." Starbuck looked pointedly at the Commander, who returned to the other room. "'Pol, it's hard for me to say this... it's hard for me to *do* this, but he's right. I think it's best if we remain friends." He paused. "We are friends, aren't we?" he asked, suddenly nervous.
"I think we are now. Can I have one last kiss?" Apollo's voice broke on the last word.
In answer, Starbuck held out his arms. Adama peeked in the door to see his son in a loving embrace with the lieutenant. After they broke the kiss, they stood, just hugging each other for a long centon. The Commander saw the anguish clearly in the face of the lieutenant, as he had seen it in the face of the cadet yahrens before. After a final squeeze, the two men broke apart. Their eyes spoke of love and pain as they pulled away.
Starbuck tried to smile. "At least something good came out of this. At least we're friends." With that, he turned and left Apollo's quarters.
@*@*@* postscript @*@*@*
Adama followed Starbuck out of Apollo's quarters. "Starbuck," he called to the retreating figure.
The blond turned. The anguish was back in his eyes. "What?" he snapped.
"I'm sorry, Starbuck. But I had to do what I thought was right."
"I know that. You heard me admit you were right. You don't have to rub it in."
"I didn't mean to rub it in. But I wish it didn't have to happen. I know Apollo was happy when the two of you were together, certainly happier than he's been since. I'd just like to say... if by some stretch of the imagination things change and the problem no longer exists, I would give you my blessing," Adama said quietly.
Starbuck considered the other man's words for a centon. "Thank you, sir, but somehow I don't foresee anything happening to change that."
He continued alone to the lift.
The End