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“She loves you, you know.”
Sam snorted, kicking at the pebbles in the dirt. He’d been on this frakking planet for a week now and he didn’t know if he should be glad or horrified that he’d gotten used to the ever-present cloud of dust that seemed to coat everything from his boots to his throat. He cleared it and spat onto the ground before turning to face her.
“And what makes you so sure of that, Jean? The way she’s so damn excited to see her husband every time she comes down here that she stays holed up in that raptor until,” he pauses and grimaces, spitting the name through gritted teeth “the major comes knocking?” Sam reached down to heft another bag of algae from the pile. He stalked over to the trunks at the far side of the tent and dropped it with a grunt. Dust puffed into the air as the heavy bag landed and Sam started coughing.
Jean frowned and swiped at the sweaty hank of hair that kept falling into her eyes. Blinking she unhooked the water canteen from her belt and took a sip, then passed it to Sam. She tried not to admire the way his throat pulsed as he swigged from it. Instead she looked away, out at the mountains in the distance. They were kind of pretty from here, and Jean could remember a time back before, when she would go hiking in mountains like those with her brothers. She tries not to think about the past too often though. The first rule of resistance fighting was to keep moving forward.
“I know what they say about her, but I don’t believe everything I hear and neither should you.” She glared at him as he lifted the water bottle again and pulled it away before he could finish it off. Their water was rationed and there was still at least five more hours of daylight—and a lot of frakking dirt—to get through.
Sam was still scowling and she sighed and plopped down on the edge of the barrel next to him. Clearly he was going to need a little more to get going. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. No one else makes her smile like that. You’re the one who makes her happy, Sam.”
She watched Sam look toward the military hut Starbuck had followed Adama into ten minutes ago. Jean wasn’t blind. She’d seen the way the two pilots looked at each other too, and yeah, there was definitely something there. But they were both married and Starbuck had risked a lot to come back and save them. Jean was pretty sure she’d still be down on that nuked out colony—maybe even captured and tortured in one of those frakking farms like Sue-Shon—if it wasn’t for Kara Thrace. Hell, she’d taken out that farm and a few cylons with bare hands and a bleeding gut wound besides. The woman would have to do a lot more than make eyes at some pretty flyboy before Jean would feel anything but gratitude and admiration for her.
Sam sighed and turned back, smiling at Jean again. She tried not to let her relief show. Her brothers were gone now, but Sam was a pretty good substitute. He nudged her and slung a sweaty arm around her shoulders. “You always gotta see the frakking good in people, Jeannie?”
She ducked as he tried to ruffle her hair and stood up, turning to face him as she edged backwards toward the pile of bags. “How do you think I put up with your ass, Sammy?”
She smirked and started running, as he jumped up after her, grousing about her not calling him that. The words trailed off, as he caught her and started tickling her sides mercilessly. Their shuffling feet kicked up more clouds of dust as they danced together and apart, laughing all the while, until the marines came and it was time to move forward once more.