Chapter Text
Dee hands the conn over to Hoshi. “You going to the dance?” he asks.
“Wouldn’t miss it!” she responds, grinning. “Gotta keep an eye on Lee, after all. Make sure he’s in one piece at the end of the night.”
“Good luck with that,” he says with a casual salute, and Dee waves over her shoulder as she goes.
When she gets there, Lee’s already stripped to his tanks, taping his hands. “Stop that,” she says, “You’re doing it all wrong.” He laughs and lets her take over, charging her a kiss as the fee.
“Haven’t seen much of you lately,” Cally says brightly, bumping Dee with her hip.
“Like you haven’t been busy, too,” Dee teases back. “I’m surprised you brought Nick with you.”
“Ah, Nicky’s a fighter,” Cally says. “He might even sleep better with the noise.”
“If you say so,” Lee responds, looking dubious.
“I don’t understand it either,” Chief Tyrol says, shaking his head. “I’m just grateful we can get him to sleep at all.”
“I do not envy you,” Dee says. She cuts the ends of the tape with her teeth, and tucks them under.
“Yeah?” Cally says, “Not looking to be a mom anytime soon?”
“Gods, no,” Dee says, laughing. She laces Lee's gloves up, swift and even with practice.
“Well, who'll carry the next generation of Adama boys?” Cally asks. “'Cos you know –”
“Lee!” Helo bellows from the ring. “You about done dawdling, or are you ready to dance?”
“You’re ON, Agathon!” Lee calls up, and opens his mouth for Dee to pop his guard in place.
“You get ‘em!” she says, taking her place in her husband’s corner.
* * *
Dee remembers another dance.
She'd woken up the next morning with her head on Lee's chest, flushing hotly at the memories of the night before and with the realization that they were naked in the middle of a field.
They'd gotten married that day.
* * *
Helo is whaling the crap out of Lee, but Lee just shakes it off and keeps going back for more.
* * *
“I should go,” Dee had said, breathless and winded from dancing. “I should pack.” She'd smiled shyly at Lee. “I mean, if you still want me to move in...”
“I do!” Lee had said, laughing, winding his arms around her waist. “I do. But... you can get your stuff tomorrow, right?” He'd nuzzled into her hair, and she'd smiled, indecisive.
Then she'd spotted Starbuck over his shoulder, staring at them with an unreadable expression. Kara had caught her glance then quirked an eyebrow, raising her glass in a wordless toast.
“Yeah,” Dee had said, on impulse. “Sure, I can stay.”
Then she'd dragged Lee over to the bar and stolen Sam's drink.
At Sam’s protests, she'd laughed. “Your liver will thank me,” Dee had said.
“Besides,” Lee had added, angling in on Sam's other side and gesturing to the bartender for a refill of his own. “Everyone knows you're a lightweight; no reason to give them proof.”
Starbuck had spluttered a guffaw into her glass. “Aw, Sammy, you gonna take that from them?”
Sam had blinked at Dee and Lee, bookends with matching expectant expressions. “You know, Kara, I don't think I have any other choice,” he'd said, lifting both hands in surrender. “I know when I'm outnumbered.”
“Good man,” Dee had said, patting his arm reassuringly and signaling for some water.
“Boo!” Kara had called from the other side of Lee. “If you won't stand up for you, I will. Bartender! Another round!” And she'd leveled a mock glare at Lee and Dee. “Not only will I take Sam's round, but I will also drink both of you under the table on his behalf. How's that?”
“No, no no,” Lee had said, backing away and waving a finger at Kara. “You have had a head start.”
The bartender had delivered four shots, the water, and Lee's refill to boot. Kara had lifted two of the small glasses in the air with a challenging grin. “What'll we toast to?”
Taking pity on Lee, Dee had taken the other two, leaving him his refill and Sam the water. “To friends,” she'd suggested.
“To friends,” Lee had echoed. “Old and new, absent or present.” He'd taken his glass and clinked it against Sam's.
Kara had snorted. “You sap,” she'd said, but tapped her shots, one-two, against Dee's. Dee clinked once against Sam's and the other against Lee's, and they all drank.
* * *
Now Dee spots Starbuck, who’s avidly cheering on from the sidelines and exchanging comments with Athena. Then Lee gets waved out by Cottle.
“Come on!” Dee shouts at Tigh, throwing her hands up. Then she has her hands full, guiding her husband out of the ring to get patched up.
When she looks again, Kara's gone.
* * *
“Oof,” Dee had said, “I think that's about my limit.”
“Oh my Gods, Dee,” Kara had said. “Not you, too.”
“Some of us like to actually remember celebrating, Starbuck,” Lee had said.
“Some of us actually know how to celebrate, Apollo,” she'd taunted back.
“I have an idea,” Sam had said. “I wanna show you guys something.” And then he'd led them all off into the chilly night. Lee had grabbed a blanket to wrap around Dee's shoulders and she'd hummed happily, leaning into his arms.
* * *
“Packing it in so soon?” Kara says, familiar challenge in her voice as Lee goes to retrieve his tags. Dee wonders when they'd last had a conversation that wasn't about training maneuvers and CAP rotations. From the way Lee's shoulders draw together, it hasn't been recently.
Take your tags, she silently begs Lee. Draw her out somewhere quiet. Deal with this in private. But she doesn't say it aloud; she knows better.
Then Starbuck's tags go in the box, and Lee's follow after, and Dee rolls her head back in exasperation.
Then the Admiral gets up and calls for Chief.
* * *
Dee remembers standing next to Lee at the riverside, giddy with excitement and disbelief. Everything had gone so fast, she hadn't had time to think. All she'd known was the steady certainty in her bones, deep down past the whirl of butterflies, and the heady feeling that they were getting away with something unexpected and serendipitous and right.
She remembers the priestess giving them the Gods' blessing, and leaning in to kiss her newly-minted husband.
* * *
The Admiral – Dee's father-in-law – stands in the middle of the ring, blood streaking crimson curtains down his cheeks, and he speaks past the gore and the sweat and the spit to those clustered around the ring. He talks about letting people get too close. About letting down their guards, and letting things fall apart.
Dee sees Sam in the crowd, and she can't tell if he's watching her, or Kara taping up her hands a few feet away.
Either way, Dee has to look away.
* * *
Sam had showed them where he and Kara had wanted to build their home on New Caprica. Dee had listened to their plans, only half following along. She'd settled in the center of the space with her head tipped back, watching the stars and listening to the sound of his voice building invisible walls around the four of them.
“So do you know where home is?” Kara had asked, dropping to the sand beside Dee and stealing a corner of the blanket to wrap around her own shoulders. She'd had a bottle in her hand, but it'd been a mostly-empty prop by that point.
“I was crap at astrometrics,” Dee had replied, “even before we took a billion jumps and you got me drunk on an alien planet.”
Starbuck had shaken her head. “Not the Colonies,” she'd said. “Home.”
She means Galactica. “Oh,” Dee had said, squinting up at the stars. “It's in geosynchronous orbit up there somewhere, but... nope, still drunk.”
“Hmm...” Kara had rested her head against Dee's shoulder, looking up. In the background, Dee could hear Sam and Lee arguing about room layouts and heat conservation. As if either of them knew anything about building a house. They’d drawn lines in the sand with fallen branches, only to erase them and draw them in again in different configurations. “Do you ever think about it, about home before the attacks?”
Dee had assumed Kara was still talking about Galactica.
“Sometimes,” she'd said. “Not much to remember, standard patrols, milk runs, diplomatic visits...”
“I remember,” Kara had said, looping her elbow around Dee's and gesturing expansively with the hand holding the bottle, “how every pilot onboard had a crush on you within a month of your arrival.”
That had made Dee laugh, louder than she'd expected. “Oh my gods, not all of them.”
“Every single one of us,” Kara confirmed. “You were the voice that guided us, out there in the black. Like Galactica herself, calling us home.”
Dee had covered her face with her free hand, face burning. “Oh my gods.”
“What are you two gossiping about?” Lee had dropped into the sand beside Dee, looking flushed and dizzy from pacing circles around and around. He reaches for the bottle, but Starbuck keeps it out of his reach. On Kara’s other side, Sam flops down onto the ground, collapsing back onto his elbows, similarly winded.
“How your girlfriend is irresistible,” Kara had said, taking a triumphant, taunting swig from the bottle.
“Which one?” Lee had asked, and Kara had choked, liquor going everywhere. “I mean... which of us are you talking to, as in –”
“Oh my gods, Lee, you are such a frakking dork,” Kara had said while Dee had – barely – suppressed her own giggles.
“You should probably stop talking, man,” Sam had suggested from his prone position.
Dee had peered around Starbuck's back at Sam, a little surprised he's still coherent. “Yeah, you probably should,” she'd heard Kara say to Lee, and then she'd felt Kara lean in...
Everyone aboard Galactica knows about Starbuck and Apollo. There'd been a betting pool running almost as long as the Fleet has, likely unabated by Dee's newly-public status in his life.
So Dee had known. She'd known, and she'd been bracing for something like this as long as they'd been together. Had played it out in her head a thousand times, from stabbing sorrow to cool indifference. And yet.
And yet.
She never expected it to happen as such close range, and not with Kara's fingers tracing light patterns on the inside of Dee’s arm. She'd never realized just how good they'd look together, under the light of strange new constellations.
Dee had then made two decisions in the span of a heartbeat. First, she'd rescued the alcohol. She'd taken a healthy swallow and then passed it over to Sam, who'd looked... watchful. Wary. His hand had covered Dee's on the neck of the bottle.
She'd given him a slight smile just as Lee had jerked away from Kara, apparently coming to his senses. “Wait,” he'd said. “I didn't –”
“I thought you were going to shut him up,” Dee had said. “Maybe you didn't do it right. Here, let me show you.” And then she'd curled her fingers around Starbuck's tags and pulled.
Kara had made a soft, muffled noise of surprise against Dee's mouth, then quickly got with the program, parting her lips to deepen the kiss. Her hand had slipped up from Dee's elbow to cup the back of her neck, and Dee had leaned back into that touch, tipping her head to give Kara a better angle.
“Oh,” Lee had said.
“...yeah, okay,” Sam had agreed, pulling the bottle from Dee's grasp to set it safely out of reach.
* * *
The crowd thins out, after the Admiral and the Chief climb down through the ropes. Dee lets out a long exhale, dread easing the knot between her lungs.
“Hey,” Sam says, coming up beside her.
“Hey,” she replies, and lets herself rest against his shoulder, just for a minute...
“Where the frak do you think you're going?” she hears Starbuck call out, and Dee straightens, craning her neck for the source of the sound. Sure enough, Kara's perched on the ring, leaning on the ropes, staring intently at Lee.
“It's over, Kara,” Lee says, sounding as tired as Dee's ever heard him. Even as he says it, she knows it's a lie.
It'll never be over, Dee thinks. Not for as long as we’re married.
Maybe she's about to watch everything fall apart for good.
* * *
“Hold on, hold on,” Kara had said, reaching for Dee. “Do you still make that noise –” And then she'd set her teeth gently against the sensitive inner skin of Dee's elbow, a sharp little bite that made Dee give a muffled squeak into Sam's mouth.
“Wait,” Lee had said, pausing from taking off his tanks. “Have you two done this before?”
Dee had pulled away from Sam to answer, “Um.”
Kara had giggled against Dee's skin. “Uh huh,” she'd answered. “Don't worry, it was long before you got to Galactica.”
Dee had wanted to say something, but Sam's hands were distracting. “It was –” she'd gasped. “– just the once.”
“Or twice, or... wait, wasn't it like six times? I lost count.” Kara had slithered up along Dee's back so that she could nip at Dee's shoulder.
“One night,” Dee clarified.
“...and most of the next morning,” Kara had added. “All of the pilots had crushes on you,” she'd murmured into Dee's ear while Sam's mouth had started moving down. “But I got to you first.”
Dee had laughed, tipping her head back to rest against Starbuck's shoulder. “Actually,” she'd said. “You didn't.”
Kara had gasped – possibly from something Lee was doing. “No! Who was it?”
“Less talking,” Sam had interrupted. “Also: less clothing.”
“Agreed,” Lee had said. And then Dee had started losing track of who was doing what.
* * *
The crowd is smaller, but it's feels louder, every scream of Lee and Kara's names adding to the tide of noise in Dee's head. There's no ref, no bell, and they're using the excuse to fight dirty: Kara using kicks, Lee using grapples, both of their faces set in fierce, determined masks. Dee watches, rolling her wedding ring around and around with her thumb.
Sam wraps his arms around her, and they lean against each other. “What are they doing?” he says into her ear.
“What does it look like?” Dee asks, bitterly.
“Looks like they're trying to kill each other,” Sam replies.
Dee shakes her head. “That's one perspective,” she replies. She hates this, hates that they feel the need to do it this way, like making new wounds will heal the old ones. Sam sighs, and she hangs on to the steady circle of his arms as they watch Kara and Lee in the ring.
* * *
Dee had woken up the morning after the Groundbreaking Celebration, curled against Lee, and had blushed at the memories of the night before. Then she'd realized that they were naked in the middle of a field, and had hidden her face in Lee's chest.
“Hey,” Kara had said, shaking Dee's shoulder. “You up?”
“Mmrgh,” Dee had replied, flailing around for the edge of the blanket, some clothes, anything to put between her eyes and the sun.
Instead, she'd found Sam's bare thigh, and his warm, sleepy chuckle had sent warmth shivering down her spine.
“Hey,” Kara had said. “C'mon.”
“Where w'goin'?” Lee had grumbled.
“To the river,” Kara had said, her voice dancing with mirth. “To get married.”
“What?!” Dee had said, sitting up to squint in Kara's direction. Kara was crouched beside them, clad only in her tanks and underwear and miles of bare leg.
“Have you lost your mind?” Lee had said, a moment later, his hands covering his face.
“No, wait, hold on,” Kara had said. “It's a genius plan. Sam agrees with me, too.”
While Dee and Lee had gotten dressed, Kara had laid it all out for them, with Sam smoothing out the rough spots and even telling Kara to shut up while he took over.
“So it's a Starbuck Plan,” Dee had concluded, pulling on her bra.
Lee had laughed. “Pretty much.”
“Which means it's gonna work,” Kara had insisted.
Lee had rolled his eyes. “Okay, if – if! – we say yes, then what, are we giving up Pegasus to come down here?”
“Not if you don't want to,” Sam had said before Kara could answer. “We'd visit each other, catch whatever Raptors are scheduled for supply runs. You two can stay up there, and we'll be down here, building the house.”
Dee had pushed aside her initial reaction, and propped her chin on her hands, staring off at the treeline. Never worrying about the specter of Starbuck-and-Apollo. Getting the best of both worlds: helping Lee run his own ship with a home on the ground to visit. She’d known some group and line marriages back on Sagittaron, and while she’d never considered it for herself before, she had known that it wasn’t about everyone being in giddy effervescent love with everyone else. It was about the practical things, like trust and respect and shared resources. About building a family and foundation for the future. And if – Gods forbid – anything should happen to one of them, the others wouldn't be left alone.
After everything, it had been the last that had clinched it for Dee.
“Okay,” she'd said, interrupting whatever the others were saying. “I'm in if Lee is.”
“What?” Lee had asked. “Really?”
Dee had nodded, and Starbuck had grabbed her hands, pulling Dee to her feet and hugging her fiercely with a happy squeal. “C'mon, Lee, whaddya say?” Kara had asked, turning to him.
Lee had looked at Sam, who just smiled, patient and steady. Lee had looked at Dee, whose grin crept wide across her face as she'd knelt back down at his side and had taken his hand between hers. “Lee Adama,” Dee had said. “Will you marry us?”
Something had clicked then, behind Lee's eyes, like he'd only just realized that they weren't all playing some kind of elaborate practical joke on him. Lee had looked back up at Starbuck. “Just because this was your idea does not mean you get to be the boss of everyone here, you understand?”
“Is that a yes?” Kara had replied.
Lee had looked back at Dee. “Yeah, that's a yes,” he 'd said, quiet and sincere.
* * *
Lee lands a right that knocks Kara to the mat.
“Frak,” Sam says, flinching like he’s about to jump up there himself. Dee hangs onto him, keeps him close.
“No, Sam,” she says, resigned now. “Let them wear themselves out.”
Kara lifts herself to hands and knees, shakes her head, then looks sidelong at Lee. “She's done,” Sam says.
“No, she's not,” Dee says, and sure enough, Kara twists to send Lee's feet out from under him with a wide kick.
Dee looks away at the cheering crowd.
* * *
Dee remembers how quiet it was at the riverbank, the soft sounds of water and the wind in the reeds. She can't remember anything anyone said, not the priestess, not herself, nor the others that stood beside her.
All she can remember is Lee's smile, and Kara's, and Sam's as the ceremony ended. Kissing each of them in turn, Lee's familiar lips, Kara trying to turn the kisses dirty, the scratch of Sam's stubble.
The cheers of the small cluster of friends they'd gathered to stand witness.
* * *
The fight keeps going, but it seems like it might be nearing its end. Dee forces her hands to unclench a little from Sam's forearms. The ring looks like it's underwater, Kara and Lee wavering on their feet, all their motions a fraction delayed.
They keep swinging, though, faces unrecognizable behind the cuts and the swelling contusions.
Dee catches her breath.
And then Kara and Lee collapse against each other, an extended clinch that they seem to struggle against unsuccessfully. The crowd starts to thin out again, sensing that it’s over.
“I do not envy you two tonight,” Hotdog says to Dee and Sam on his way out.
“Oh, you so do,” Kat scoffs, following behind. “Don't even lie.”
Lee and Kara sway in the middle of the ring, slowly spinning on unsteady legs. Lee looks like he might be crying, but Dee catches a fleeting smile on Kara's face.
Dee exhales. “Lets go get our spouses,” she says at last.
* * *
“I was hoping you'd give me a daughter-in-law,” the Admiral had said, clapping his son on the shoulder. “I wasn't expecting two.” His face had been creased in as wide a smile as Dee had ever seen as he'd offered his hand to Sam. “And certainly not a son-in-law. Welcome to the family.”
“Thank you, sir,” Sam had said. “I'll try to do you proud.”
“Don't say that,” Lee had interrupted. “He'll have you wearing blues in the CIC, if you're not careful.” He hadn't said 'a flight suit,' Dee had noticed, which was probably for the best.
“Congratulations,” President Roslin had said, one hand tucked in the Admiral's elbow. “I didn't think group marriages were coming back in style, but it's nice to see the old traditions carried on.”
“Yeah,” Kara had laughed, “it might catch on. We'll make it look good.”
* * *
“You look awful,” Dee says, gently blotting the blood and the sweat and the snot from Kara’s swollen mouth with a warm damp cloth. Kara grins at her, gruesome and unrepentant.
Dee wrings out the cloth into the sink and turns the tap to wet it again, glad the communal head was closer to the ring than their quarters; she can’t imagine trying to do this in the tiny private head attached to the quarters she shares with Lee or in the doubtless-crowded and noisy duty locker.
“I’d tell you how you look,” Kara says, “but you told me to keep my eyes closed. You sound like my mom, though.”
Dee doesn’t rise to the bait; even the Cylons know about Starbuck’s mother. “Stop that,” Dee says, “You’re breaking up the clots.” Starbuck winces as Dee cleans up the gash on her cheekbone, but she stays quiet.
Around the corner, Lee mumbles something. “Don’t talk,” Cottle grumbles at him. “You Viper jocks; if your skulls weren’t so thick maybe I wouldn’t be patching you up so often.” He snaps his penlight off and lets Lee close his jaw. “No cracked teeth, but you’ve got a nice assortment of the usual sprains between the two of you. Watch for signs of concussion,” he instructs, looking over at Sam, who’s watching intently by the wall with his arms crossed. “Keep that hand wrapped up,” Cottle tells Lee, then says to Kara, “and stay off that knee. You know the drill: rest, ice, compression, elevation.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Kara mutters.
“Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to check on the Admiral. If I thought it’d stick, you’d all be off duty for a month.” Cottle snaps up his case and exchanges rueful smiles with Dee on his way out.
“Ow!” Lee says, and Dee sees Sam holding a coolpack against Lee’s temple.
“We should hose you two down,” Sam says, wrinkling his nose. “You are not getting into bed like this, either of you.”
Starbuck grins again. “Gonna help us out with that?”
“You just do not know when to quit,” Lee says, already standing and gingerly pulling at his tanks.
Sam pushes Lee’s bandaged hand away. “She’s got a point,” he says, “you two can barely stand.” And he helps Lee out of his clothes, the two of them careful of Lee’s injuries but comfortable within each other’s space. Dee watches for a moment, feeling something warm unfurl behind her ribs. It’s something she hasn’t noticed before, something she’s pretty sure wasn’t there before she sent Sam back to Galactica.
It doesn’t make up for anything else they’ve been through since, but it’s something to be grateful for regardless.
After that brief reverie, she follows Sam’s lead and helps Kara undress. Dee swats Kara’s hands away when she tries to return the favor, and steps out of arm’s reach to strip herself efficiently. Sam shoves Lee towards the showers, and ducks under Kara’s arm to help her limp after Lee. Dee gathers up their clothes. Sticky, drying blood from Lee’s shirts streaks her palms; her fingers catch on a tear at Kara’s waistband.
Dee shakes her head, stuffs the worst items into the cycler, and follows the others to the showers.
For all Starbuck’s posturing, she’s surprisingly biddable once she’s settled on the bench in the corner. She lets Sam pull down the showerhead to rinse the sweat and grime from her body. Lee stoops a little to let Dee wash his hair, keeping his injured hand out of the water. They’re both covered in bruises that bloom in mottled colors beneath their pale skin, swelling purples and blacks and reds that make Dee wince to see them.
By mutual unspoken agreement, they keep it quick, but Lee still needs to put a steadying arm over Dee’s shoulders as they leave. They must look ridiculous as they make their way through the hall towards the couples’ quarters, bedraggled and wincing, limping and wearing a mix of each others’ clothing and towels streaked with pink.
While Sam folds down the couch with the ease of practice, Dee digs through the closet for something Kara can wear. She finds the bag she’d brought back from New Caprica in the back corner, forgotten and unopened. “Oh,” she says, and drags it out.
She brushes the sand off and opens it up, pulling out the bundle of soft blue cloth and Sam’s folded jersey. “These are yours,” she says, handing the blue to Kara.
Kara blinks down at it, pulling the cloth open to reveal the small statues. Artemis and Aphrodite. “Oh,” she echoes, voice quiet. “Dee, I – Thank you.” And Dee kneels up, touching her forehead lightly against Kara’s in a quiet, wordless moment.
There’s the loud screech of Sam dragging the open couch into place, and Dee turns away again to find some clean clothes for Kara to sleep in. “Hey,” Sam says, his hand settling warm and low on her back.
“Hey,” Dee says, and leans into his touch for a moment. “You forgot something,” she says, and gives him his jersey.
“Nah,” he says. “I knew you were keeping it safe.” They share a smile, a kiss, and move back to help the other two settle into bed.
Kara takes her usual place, curled on her side with her back to the wall. Sam crawls in next, knocking his knee against the edge of the main bed despite the folded blanket they use to disguise the slight height difference between mattresses. Dee curls up on the other side of the divide with her back to the door, leaving the outermost spot for Lee so that he can be up first in case of emergency.
In the dark, they’re a matched set of quotation marks, hands tangling in the space between. Dee lets out a breath; as she does so, a weight lifts from her chest and she feels tears prick at her eyelids. They fall silently, tracking sideways into her hairline, and sleep creeps in to claim her swiftly after.
* * *
- End of the first story in this series. TBC in the sequel, Occultation. -