"I think I have to go to sick bay," Apollo said, wincing. "Why?" Starbuck shot back over the rim of his glass. "Feels like I have a broken rib," Apollo replied, touching his side gingerly. "You can't leave yet, the party just started and people'll wonder. Everybody thinks you're invincible, after that kick you took from Logan." "Yeah, well it's coming back to haunt me." "Look, Apollo, I got serious money on this next match. Don't tell me you're injured!" "Maybe you should lay a few bets against us, then, so you'll come out even. I'm going to sick bay." "Well don't tell people that's where you're going. Say you have to go to the Bridge or something." Apollo sighed. "Nice to know you're so concerned about me." He struggled to his feet, holding his side. The pain was definitely getting worse. "Put your hand down! You want everybody to know?" Apollo glanced around the OC. "Nobody is even looking at us, Starbuck." "Not outright staring, no. But they're watching!" "You're getting way too paranoid." "I can smell the victory." "You mean, the cubits. See you later." "Hand down!" Apollo ignored him and walked out. They were embroiled in the shipboard Triad League Championships, playing a best 3 out of 5 for top honours against Logan and Porter, two launch technicians, and excellent competitors. The first game had recently ended with a slim victory for Starbuck and Apollo. It would have been more decisive, except Apollo let his guard down for the briefest of moments, and Logan capitalized on it with a powerful kick to the ribs, levelling him. Apollo felt something crunch at the time, but it didn't hurt that much, so he'd kept playing. By the end of the game, he had an ugly black and purple splotch on his right side, accompanied by a deep ache. But there was an old axiom in Triad: if you had to see the doctor after a match, you were getting too old to play the game. Maybe that's true, Apollo thought as he stepped into sick bay. "Apollo - good game!" Cassie called from across the room. "Thanks," he replied, "but I think I broke a rib." "I wondered about that kick," Cassie said, hurrying towards him. She led him to an examination table, and helped him strip to the waist. She inhaled sharply at the sight of the bruises, not just over the broken rib, but everywhere: shoulders, arms, back. "All from Triad?" she said. "It's a rough game." Cassie shook her head. "Lie back." She ran a medical scanner over Apollo's chest, checking for damage. "You're right, one small fracture in your fourth rib. Easily fixed, but" - she looked at him sharply - "you know you shouldn't play again right away. I can knit it together, but it needs time to fully heal, a couple of days, at least." "Yes, mother." "Smart ass." *** Apollo closed his eyes, relaxing while a warm, blue beam of light eased the pain of his broken rib. He'd have to change his playing strategy at bit, to protect this side, having no doubt that Logan would aim right for it. He heard the sick bay doors slide back, and opened his eyes, seeing his father coming towards him, wry grin on the Commander's face. "Getting a little old for the game, are we?" Adama asked, stopping by the table. "No, we are not," Apollo replied. "Logan got in one lucky shot, that's all. How did you know I was here?" "I had to intimidate the information out of your partner. Imagine, he didn't even want to tell me, his commanding officer!" "He wants to win. But I hope we do it in three. I don't think I can last five." "Logan and Porter are very good." "They are," Apollo agreed. "Is there something you needed?" "No," Adama said, with exaggerated casualness, "just wanted to offer you my congratulations, and to see how you're feeling about the next match." Apollo blinked at his father, suspicious. "You're not betting on these games, too, are you?" "It would be very unseemly, Captain, for your Commander to engage in such activities." "How much did you put down?" "Captain -" "Dad! I just hope it's not some scheme perpetuated by a certain Lieutenant." Adama merely smiled and ruffled Apollo's hair. "Just get well, my boy." The Commander left, Apollo's gaze following him until he'd disappeared out the doors. "Oh, that's no pressure," Apollo muttered to himself. "No pressure at all." *** Cassie finally released him, but not before lecturing him again about the fragility of the bone. She said it half in jest, knowing he wouldn't listen to her anyway, knowing that Apollo would have to be drugged and physically restrained to keep him away from the Triad court. As he stepped off the turbolift near his quarters, he saw Starbuck waiting for him, leaning casually against the corridor wall. "You are in big trouble," Apollo said as he walked towards him. "For what?" Apollo stopped at his door to punch in his code. "Apparently," he replied, "certain members of the command staff have been cajoled into betting on these games." The doors opened, and Starbuck followed Apollo inside, protesting. "I had nothing to do with that!" "All I'm saying, my dear friend, is that if we lose, we'll be on sanitation duty for the next three cycles." Starbuck frowned. "He wouldn't do that, would he?" "Oh, he would. He'd be sneaky about it, saying that certain officers are taking their positions for granted and need attitude adjusting, and boom - we're out in spacesuits scrubbing hulls. So I hope you realize what you've done to us, Bucko." Starbuck scratched his head, looked at Apollo contritely. "Well, are you okay to play?" he asked. "As long as I don't get nailed in that same spot, yeah, I should be." "That was totally your fault. What were you looking at?" "I was looking at you! Waiting for you to get the ball off Porter!" Starbuck rolled his eyes. "Don't you blame this on me. I don't know how you could miss Logan bearing down on you - the guy's big as a landram, for gods sake!" "Yeah, felt like I was hit by one, too." Starbuck sighed and came close to Apollo, putting his arms around his neck. "Are you all right?" he asked. "Concerned about me now, are you?" "You made me feel guilty back in the OC." "Good," Apollo said, smiling. They kissed, Apollo's hands on Starbuck's hips, Starbuck's hands in Apollo's hair. "How about a little private victory celebration?" Starbuck asked when they broke apart. "I don't know, I'm still kind of hurting…" Starbuck shook his head. "You're gonna make me work for it, aren't you?" "Uh-huh." "Well," the Lieutenant said, one hand trailing down Apollo's chest, "if that's the way it has to be…" He stroked Apollo's growing erection. They moved to the bedroom, shedding their clothes. Starbuck was just as bruised as his partner, and they chuckled at each other, at the battered state of their bodies. Then they took turns kissing the wounds, lying together on the bed. Starbuck carefully touched the deeply discoloured spot on Apollo's side. "Does it still hurt?" he asked. "No," Apollo replied. "Because I don't want you to play if you don't think you should." "I'll be fine," Apollo assured him, stroking his lover's face. Starbuck grinned and dove down for a hungry kiss. "You're so sexy when you're wounded," he whispered, kissing Apollo's ear. "I'll remember that," Apollo replied, his hands on Starbuck's ass, pulling him in hard between his legs. "Come inside me." "Yes sir, with pleasure, sir." Starbuck let his tongue trail down Apollo's chest to his groin, and Apollo spread his legs wide to give him more access. The Lieutenant licked the head of Apollo's cock, tasting the pre-cum, seeing Apollo squirm under him. Then he took it in his mouth, sucking while Apollo moaned, thrusting, until finally Apollo grabbed his hair to make him stop. "Almost had me, there," Apollo said. Starbuck got back on top of him to kiss him one more time while his hand searched for the lube. He didn't need his eyes anymore for this, knew exactly where that tube would be, and this time was no exception. Starbuck got back on his knees and squirted some lube on his fingers but instead of using it on Apollo, he began stroking himself. This self-pleasuring drove Apollo nuts. Starbuck breathed deeply, squeezed his prick a little harder, sending a shiver through up his spine, watching Apollo watch him. Apollo panted and chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes pleading with Starbuck to please cut that out and start touching him again. With more lube on his fingers, Starbuck turned his attention back to Apollo. He slid two fingers inside him, then added a third, but then all his self-ministrations caught up with him and he knew he had to get in there before it was too late. Apollo's legs up over his shoulders, Starbuck pushed inside. He wondered briefly if Logan and Porter were engaged in the same activity - but then all thought fled his mind as he thrust into his lover. Apollo let out a small cry as he came, and Starbuck didn't last much longer, release sending a pleasant tremour through him. Then he pulled out and collapsed onto the bed. Without another word, they both fell asleep. *** The next day. Game 2. They were winning, but not by much. Apollo was bent down, hands on his knees, catching his breath while Logan and Porter held a brief strategy session in one of the corners. Above them, the crowd hollered and cheered, the noise down in the court deafening all the players. Starbuck walked over and bent down to yell in his ear: "Commander's here!" He followed where Starbuck was pointing, saw Adama silently looking down, expression serious, although Apollo knew his father was enjoying himself. Apollo flashed him a grin, then stood to take up his position. So far, he'd managed to protect his injured side, and was much more vigilant in keeping an eye out for Logan. Only nine centons left on the clock, with a few more points, victory was assured. The ball went to Porter, with Starbuck in close pursuit. Porter took a shot, but missed, the ball winging away to an unoccupied portion of the court. Apollo tore after it, lunging after the rebound, and that's when it happened. Not a kick this time, but a fist, encased in metal mesh, and with all the power of a landram behind it. The sound of crunching bones and severe pain were impossible to ignore. Apollo collapsed in a heap on the floor of the court. He couldn't breathe, felt like his chest was paralyzed. He coughed, sending more waves of agony through him. Something warm dribbled down his chin, and he could taste it in his mouth: blood. He was coughing up blood. "Apollo! Apollo -" Starbuck's face was close to his. He had his helmet off, his sweaty hair sticking out in all directions, blue eyes wide with worry. He couldn't get enough air. Apollo felt himself loosing consciousness, hearing Starbuck calling name as the Triad court faded… *** Apollo awoke to see Cassie gazing down at him, medical scanner clasped to her chest. He was breathing easier, just felt an overall tightness down one side of his body. He looked around, recognizing sick bay, and then he remembered what happened on the Triad court to put him in here. "Hey," Cassie said gently. "Guess you didn't listen to me." "Sorry." "You'll get a short holiday, now. Your rib snapped and punctured your lung, a little more serious than the last time." "Ow." Cassie smiled and shook her head. "Well, there's a couple people anxious to see you. And I've already put the word out that you're finished, as far as this Triad tournament is concerned." "Yeah, I figured." "I'll go get your visitors." She disappeared out of view. Apollo closed his eyes, still feeling a bit groggy. He must have drifted off, for suddenly he felt someone shaking his hand trying to wake him. He opened his eyes again to see his father looking sternly down at him. Apollo smiled weakly, heard Adama sigh in reply. "I gather from the extent of your injuries that you shouldn't have been playing," said Adama, going straight for the scolding, not wasting any time of polite pleasantries. "Nobody said I shouldn't play," Apollo replied sleepily. "Not according to Cassie. She apparently did tell you that very thing." "Well, I'm paying for it, all right? I learned my lesson." "Oh you don't quite understand the ramifications, Apollo," Adama said. "As I believe I indicated to you before, there's a matter of pride involved." Apollo closed his eyes again. He could not believe he was having this conversation. He was injured, for Sagan's sake! "Who'd you lose to?" he asked. Adama hesitated. "Colonel Tigh." Apollo's eyes popped open. "Tigh bet against us?" "Yes. I got a little tired of hearing how Logan and Porter were going to take the championship. We had quite the discussions about it, comparing various aspects of your game strategies. Tigh was so smug, I just couldn't let it go. But now, he'll be unbearable…" Adama trailed off, disgruntled expression on his face. "I'm so sorry," Apollo said, totally sarcastic. "Yes, you should be, considering how the games could have been postponed until you were fully healed. It's in the rules." "Yeah, but -" "Your protests about your youth and image mean nothing. Thankfully, you will have the opportunity to redeem yourself." "How?" Apollo asked, without enthusiasm. "Well, seeing as you'll be on restricted duty for a while anyway, I was thinking that the Colonel could use some assistance conducting a complete inventory of all supplies aboard ship. Surely you'll be well enough to count things, but I will clear it with the medical staff first." Apollo said nothing, just glared at his father. "Now son, take it easy." Adama bent down to kiss him on the forehead. "I'll be in to see you tomorrow." "Great." *** Starbuck appeared a short time later, peering into the small room before committing himself to entering it. Apollo frowned at him. "What're you doing?" "Looking for your father." "Don't worry, he's already been here and meted out my punishment." "Oh? What'd you get?" "Complete ship's inventory. With Tigh, apparently." "Jackpot." Starbuck bent down to kiss his lover. "You okay?" he asked. Apollo nodded. "Yeah." "Logan sends his sincerest apologies, and promises to buy you any number of drinks to ease your pain." "I'll take him up on that." "And," Starbuck added, grinning mischievously, "they've agreed to a rematch, a true championship series. Best 5 of 7!" "What?!?" "Oh, come on, Apollo. Nobody wants to win like that. They'll put it off 'til you're totally healthy." "Five of seven! Oh my god, this game is going to kill me." "Well," Starbuck said slowly, "I guess I could tell 'em you don't think you're up for it. After all, two trips to sick bay after two matches -" "I'll play," Apollo said firmly. "You sure?" "I'm not dead, yet, Starbuck. Yes, I'm sure." Starbuck grinned. "You're so vain." Then the smile faded a bit, and he took Apollo's hand. "I'm sorry," he said. "For what?" "I just kind of feel like I forced you into playing today, and this happened." "Not your fault. As my father so helpfully pointed out to me, I could have postponed the match. Your gambling ventures will never make me do anything, Starbuck." "That's the truth." Starbuck kissed him again, holding it a little longer. "I love you," he said. "I know," Apollo replied. "Am I still sexy when I'm wounded?" "Sure are." "Even when I'm coughing up blood?" "Especially then." Starbuck chuckled and squeezed his hand. "Better let you sleep. Have to get rid of that pain in your side." Apollo smiled up at him, and shook his head. "Never," he said. "Never."
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