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Kara liked her job, she really did, but she was damned glad she only had to attend these kinds of things a few times a year. It was the eighth of December, the last day of Poseidonia; she was once again stuck at a service ball she didn’t ask for, wearing dress blues she hadn’t had dry cleaned, trying to flag down a bartender to infuse some entertainment into this night. She’d started out watching all of the civilian girlfriends-of-the-night drink too much and trip over their own feet, but it had fallen flat after a while.
Normally, she’d bother Helo on a night like tonight, but he’d been MIA with some kind of frakked-up-shitting-yourself virus for almost four days now. There was no way she could have convinced him to give up a day of sick leave to be miserable and gassy in public.
So, she’d settled for finding the bar and ordering herself a celebratory hippocampus to pregame dinner with. Plus, it was just proper to take libations at something like this. Pouring one out for Poseidon, even if it was barely 1500, was her best bet for escaping the mind-numbing stupidity of not only the general populace, but also her peers. She was halfway through her drink when she was pulled from her musings on said stupidity by the beginning of the festivities. She rolled her eyes and gulped down the rest. She would probably be inebriated for the religious stuff, but she figured Poseidon could forgive her. It was his day, after all.
“Shaker of Worlds, grant us quiet passage,”boomed the Gemenese Priestess over the sound system. “We shall bring honor to the Lords of Kobol, with these offerings given in celebration and in thanks. So say we all.”
The crowd echoed her words back, and Kara sighed, but proceeded towards the half-frozen waterfront with everyone else. Caprica City was the oldest city on the planet and had been founded at a port, where the Charon River flowed into the Pythian Sea. So every year, the fleet enlisted the help of religious leaders for the Festival of Poseidon, and everyone gathered at the harbor for the ceremonial offering before the service ball started. There was a blessing of a Battlestar, typically one with a relevant name, and then she’d be stuck at a stuffy dinner. But it did kick off three weeks of holiday shore leave before Solstice until the beginning of the new year, so it was a trade off.
Kara fell in with the rest of her Viper squadron, most of whom also overindulged before dinner. A couple of the newer recruits in the back were stifling laughter. She broke rank quietly and slipped to the back of the block.
“Nuggets! Who’s in charge of you?” She hissed, darting in front of them.
A couple of them went wide-eyed and panicked. The one in the middle saluted, still laughing.
“Commander Lee Adama, Sir!” He shouted back at her.
Oh, Gods. She needed another four drinks for that conversation.
“When you attend formal events, lieutenant, you are in charge of representing the fleet. When you act like a middle schooler, that’s a one-way ticket to Groundedville in the magical land of Demotion. Do I make myself clear?” She barked at him.
“Yes, Sir!”
All three of them snapped back to attention and she returned to the front with the older pilots just as the Priestess finished the Invocation to Poseidon.
“We offer these gifts to you, Lord of Seas, so that you may keep our travelers in your hands wherever they may go.”
Kara watched as the priestess brought forth the goods, the snow flurries covering her ceremonial robes.
“The wine, libations drunk in your honor.” She poured the ceremonial chalice into the Pythian Sea. “The oil, for peaceful seas.”
The Priestess shifted over several yards, towards the hull of the Battlestar Pegasus, apparently this year’s ship of the Gods. That would explain Lee. The latest fleet gossip was that he’d been promoted to Commander by his father and awarded the Pegasus as his own ship. Most people thought it was nepotism, but Kara had a sneaking suspicion that it was more of an excuse for the Old Man to put some space between them. Zak had always been “the favorite,” Lee had always lamented to her.
She had never said anything to Lee, but Zak had told her the exact opposite, one late drunken night as they were lying in bed, trying to fend off the spins. “He just always liked Lee better. He’s the better soldier, anyway.” She chuckled bitterly as she thought about it. Sometimes she thought she was the only one who understood the Old Man’s convoluted way of showing affection. Maybe it was her frakked-up childhood.
“Salt, for the purification of this vessel, so that you may hold those who keep us safe close to you. To ask your hospitality on their voyages.” The Priestess stood on a ladder and sprinkled the salt over the part of the hull that she could reach, which wasn’t much. It was hard to dock a Battlestar that low to the ground. “So say we all.”
“So say we all,” she heard her own voice recite, faraway and hollow. The crowd immediately started to disperse, people driven to speed by the promise of a free meal and and open bar.
“Hey, Captain,” came an all-too-cheery voice from behind her. Frak. She broke into a sardonic grin as she turned around.
“Leland.”
Kara watched his eyes roll so far back into his head, she thought they’d flip upside down.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Sorry. Leland.” She snickered.
He couldn’t resist cracking a smile despite his mock indignation. He laughed with her for a few seconds, amused but polite and at an appropriate emotional distance for a former-future-brother-in-law-turned-friend.
She hadn’t seen him since their shared tour on Galactica ended a year ago. And before that, she’d seen him at the funeral and that disastrous night that the three of them had dinner at her place. Nothing in between; nothing to feed the awkward or the tension or the barely-repressed-grief-induced anger.
On the rare occasions when she had run into him at work, she could almost feel his discomfort underneath the tangled web of that thing she didn’t have a word for between them. It followed them like a ghost. And it was a ghost, she supposed.
It was like some kind of cosmically-ordained telepathic guilt complex, but she still felt that adrenaline gut punch she got when she trained inverted combat maneuvers when she saw him. It was unfortunately addictive, but she couldn’t possibly admit that after everything. And if she really thought about it, everything unraveled because when she was honest, the kind of feelings Zak brought swirling up from the depths of her were not at all the same. She hated herself for it.
So she considered it progress when she managed a weak but sincere, “It’s good to see you.” She felt like something cracked inside her chest.
He reached out a hand to shake hers, then pulled her into a hug with their clasped arms. She felt him hesitate, tense muscles betraying him, before he must have decided to linger a bit. He held her there for a few seconds, his other arm winding around her back.
“It’s good to see you too, Kara.” He told her lowly, so close that she could feel him exhale deeply into her hair. Suddenly it was far too intimate for such a public setting. In sync, they separated, and she noted the warm glow of blood rushing to his face. She smiled smugly at the thought that something as prudish as a hug could make the mighty Apollo blush.
“What’re you laughing at?” He asked, still smiling, still a dusting of pink across his cheeks.
“You’re blushing.”
“Am not.”
“Are too. You’re like one of Artemis’s Priestesses, Lee. Such a prude.” She tsked.
He frowned deeply and glared at her. She cackled. He turned his head, staring at the mass of people filing back into the banquet hall.
To her surprise, Lee reached an arm out towards her in invitation. “Looks like dinner’s starting. You got my six?”
“Whatever you say, Commander.” She elbowed him as they walked.
“That’s insubordination, y’know,” he chuckled.
“Not if I don’t know your rank.”
“Bullshit, Starbuck.”
“Well are you gonna tell me about it? Scuttlebutt’s calling you a nepo baby.”
“Jealous?” He arched an eyebrow at her, wearing that grin that earned him the name of a god in the first place.
“Maybe.” It was an olive branch.
“I got promoted three months ago. Honestly, I think it was my father’s way of keeping me out of his way professionally.” He was laughing, but Kara didn’t miss the set of his jaw.
“Not bad,” she conceded.
He released her arm as they approached the banquet table, then pulled a chair out for her and sat down at her right. She rolled her eyes as she sat. They settled in among a group of mutual friends from Galactica— Sharon, in town ostensibly to congratulate Lee; Dualla, who she suspected had a thing for him now that he was a commander; and a few of their old Viper squadron.
Dinner was salmon, poached in olive oil with bay laurel and rosemary, served with the customary glass of red wine. On a night like this, she wasn’t sure the red wine was going to cut it. Between the idle small talk and her reunion with Lee, she would have preferred something stronger. The pre-ceremony hippocamp helped, but the buzz was fading fast.
Shockingly, they made it all the way to dessert without seeming anything other than the professional colonial officers they (allegedly) were. Sharon excused herself relatively early to go attend some other family obligation and the rest started to fall apart after that. The Viper pilots went off one by one to hit the bar or to go dance; once they were gone, Dee made a beeline for the door. Kara couldn’t blame her, although she sort of felt bad for the girl. She was almost certain that Lee would be interested, but given the history, she understood why Dee had settled on booking it.
Unfortunately, that left her alone with Lee, and given their track record… she wasn’t entirely sure that staying at the party was even the right decision. She was trying to give herself five seconds of lead time to figure out what to do with him, but he interrupted her thoughts (as usual).
“To old friends?” He had already raised his mostly-empty glass.
She picked up her own meager remaining glass of wine to meet his toast. They drained them in unison, and his eyes never left hers. Dangerous territory. Interesting.
“More drinks?” She asked, begging the Lords of Kobol to make the trajectory of this night clear. Lee nodded easily, then followed her as she made her way to the bar. She ordered two glasses of ambrosia, hoping against all logic that it would make whatever conversation this inevitably led to easier. She knew it wouldn’t, but after the first few sips she wasn’t sure how much she cared about that anyway.
It didn’t help that after a few sips of his own, Lee had started giving her that look that made her want to crawl out of her skin. Kara, whatever blasphemous things she felt, was usually able to keep it from showing outwardly. Lee, however, had always seemed to have his burdens written across his face. Especially when he drank. Especially with her. So, although she’d seen this particular expression many times, it never failed to scare the shit out of her. Because he looked at her like she was something precious. Like he loved her. And he just couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.
After another round of ambrosia and trading jabs, he offered a hand in silent invitation to the dance floor. She feigned annoyance but took it and allowed his other arm to settle comfortably against her lower back. The room swayed a little, the alcohol finally hitting her bloodstream.
“It really is good to see you.” Her voice came out much quieter than she’d intended as she looked up at him. He was in her space now, and she was surprised and a bit terrified to find the invasion welcome. His eyes were soft, open, reflecting the tiny blue string lights hung in Poseidon’s honor.
“Glad to be of service, Captain,” he grinned back at her. His eyes flicked towards the floor for a split second before he spoke again. “Y’know… I have a bottle of ambrosia on Pegasus we could share.” His voice was guarded, and she wished she had the right to find his nerves endearing.
She nodded, acquiescing, and a gentle smile crossed his face as he laced their fingers together. She knew she really shouldn’t, but he was just so warm and it was too inviting. So she followed his lead back to his brand-new Battlestar, even if she knew she’d wake up with regrets.
Predictably, most of the Pegasus had taken early holiday shore leave. Lee had never been a particularly strict CAG. She ended up making herself at home on one of the couches in the Commander’s quarters as Lee retrieved two glasses and a bottle of ambrosia from one of the cabinets.
“Somebody gave this to me when I got promoted. Too much.”
“Shut up, Lee. Fake modesty is a terrible look on you.” She laughed, but she could feel her anger at herself bubbling up and threatening to spill out in his direction.
He scoffed. “Whatever, Kara. I’m just trying to keep my humility.”
“You had that?”
“You’re the cocky one!” He threw his hands up, but there was still a drunken smile plastered across his face. “Always have been.” His voice had dropped to nearly a whisper now.
She rolled her eyes, knowing when to quit because he’d hit truth. He got quiet and his velvety cornflower eyes fixed on her in that way that never failed to knock the floor out from underneath her.
It was so inconvenient, the first time she’d met him. He’d showed up at her door with that look and all she could think was holy shit, wrong brother. The first time in her life she’d learned what it was to regret the future and the past at the same time.
Guilt and desire and grief and maybe even love. It wasn’t like they’d ever have the chance or the right. She watched as Lee poured a glass for each of them and she pushed down the screaming inside her head that was telling her this was wrong, she’d never be forgiven for it. Not by herself, not by Lee, not even by Artemis, her ironically given patron goddess.
Lee passed her a glass, stepping into her space and bumping shoulders with her. He was only a few inches taller than her, but a part of her always felt smaller, this close to him. It wasn’t a bad thing— it was like him invading her personal space was the only thing that made her brain go quiet, neurons finally firing in blissful silence as the chemical reaction that was Lee Adama took over.
He raised his glass, offering a toast wordlessly. She clinked hers against it and decided to provoke him.
“What are we drinking to?” Kara asked softly, eyes still locked on his.
“Hmmm,” he feigned deep thought. “How’bout… this?! ” he slurred as he jumped forward to throw his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground.
Stunned, Kara felt herself erupt into uproarious laughter for a second. She felt her feet land gently on the ground a few moments later, and as she turned to face him she noticed that he was mere inches from her, the space between them negligible.
Panic began to set in as the realization of her actions clawed its way through the haze of the alcohol. Lee must have seen it in her face, because he pulled her in closer.
“Hey,” he exhaled softly into her space, brows knitting together. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to..”
Kara tilted her head, looking up at him with what she was sure was barely concealed adoration in her intoxicated state. The worst part was that as much as she hated him for it, she knew she wasn’t backing down now. She didn’t have the heart or the clarity of thought to tear herself away.
“… cross any lines,” she heard Lee finish from what felt like a thousand miles away.
She parsed that for a moment before she decided on her response. There wasn’t a point in keeping it down any longer, she resolved. No matter what she did, they’d always have this excruciating gravity between them. If it was destined to blow up, now was as good a time as any.
They wouldn’t have children. She wasn’t even sure they’d be married. But if they could avoid breaking each other for long enough… maybe they had a chance in Hades. Maybe they’d have shore leave together, their own quarters, and work on the same ship without punching each other on the flight deck over each others’ one night stands. People would gossip about them co-parenting the nuggets and start rumors—
Kara shook her head and stopped the freight train of racing thoughts the only way she knew how. She leaned up and kissed Lee Adama for what was unbelievably only the second time in her life. It tasted like a tidal wave of regret and unbounded potential, her world narrowing down to one earth-shattering, possibly disastrous moment. When she pulled herself back, the look on his face broke her heart just a little. She didn’t deserve to be seen that way— it simply wasn’t the reality of who she was.
She inhaled, preparing to ask the inevitable “are you sure,” but it never came; Lee stopped her short before she could start.
“Kara, I—“
“You don’t have to, Lee.” Kara fixed her blazing eyes upon his, hoping to convey some fraction of: I’m so sorry. For Zak. For myself. I know you think you want this, but I don’t want to destroy you like I destroy everything else.
She watched his face crumble into what, if she didn’t know better, she would have identified as some convoluted devotion, indistinguishable from the ever-lurking layer of grief.
“I’m not,” he insisted, jaw clenching as she saw his eyes start to well up.
She had to hand it to him— the determination in his voice was a bit of a shock. She knew what he thought of her when she was at her best, sure. But, like basic flight training had taught her years ago, anything that went up must come crashing down at some point. And it always did between Starbuck and Apollo. She knew she wasn’t up to par with a god; she wasn’t that naive.
“Think about this,” she started, breath coming unevenly now.
“Don’t have to,” he told her lowly, maybe even honestly, through a fond smile. His horribly kind eyes burned steadily, softly into her, pale blue wounding her like a quiet spring morning before a thunderstorm. He still had that beautiful, pained look on his face when he surged forward and began pressing far-too-gentle kisses to her temple, her cheek, any part of her he could reach.
It felt reverent.
“What the frak is it gonna take for you to get it through your head, Kara?” He whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.
“It’s just the alcohol,” she murmured back, false words spilling into his space.
“I love you. All of you. You can throw a fit and tell me you’re a screw-up later. It doesn’t change it and it never will. Are you done yet?” He wore that infuriatingly sweet smile, as if he’d just been teasing her about her shitty combat landings instead of dropping the floor out from her reality with his words.
“You can’t, Lee.”
“Oh, I can. And I will. You don’t get to call all the shots by yourself.”
“But why?” She asked, feeling her eyes start to prickle.
“You can’t choose that!” He threw up his hands. “You’re you,” he explained, running a hand over his face. “If I’d had any control over it I wouldn’t have chosen my brother’s fi— Wait, no, that came out wrong,” he stammered. “Point is, I’m not going anywhere. I can’t change how we met, but I can choose how to handle it.”
Kara couldn’t find words. She settled on throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder, the way she’d only ever done with the Old Man in her adult life. She felt the unbidden tears leaking out in earnest now.
“I’m not an easy person, y’know,” she muttered into his jacket.
Lee shook with laughter as one of his hands slid up to cradle her head, protective and far more tender than she deserved. “I don’t care. You’re stuck with me,” she felt him exhale fondly into the crook of her neck. He pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of her hair.
Her only regret upon waking the next morning aboard Pegasus was the hangover.