BY YOUR COMMAND - Static ARCHIVE

Starbuck turned slightly to watch Apollo grinning down at a young Ensign.

"He got it bad for her," Boomer said, taking a sip of his javjo.

"How old is she?" Starbuck asked.

"Not a day over 19, I'd say."

"Geez..."

"Jealous, Bucko?" Boomer asked.

Starbuck looked at him sharply.

"What?" he said.

"Captain's having more luck with women than you are, lately," Boomer teased. "You're in danger of losing your title."

"And what title is that?"

"Conquest King, Prince of Pussies, Lord Ladykiller-"

"All right, all right. Enough."

Starbuck looked back at the Captain, who now had his hand on the young Ensign's arm. She gazed up at him, enraptured, a dreamy, coy expression on her pretty face. She had black hair that hung in loose ringlets to her shoulders, and a compact, athletic-looking body, pert round breasts and a firm ass. All in all, Starbuck had to admit, a darned attractive package. If only she hadn't attracted the Captain...

And what about Apollo's policy about not sleeping with his underlings? Obviously been tossed out the airlock.

The Ensign was walking away, Apollo watching after every sway of her hips. Starbuck turned back to his now cold javjo, pushed the mug away from him.

Apollo joined them, sat down with a contented sigh in one of the empty chairs.

"Good morning," he said to them, smiling.

"Aren't you the happy boy today," Boomer said. "Anything you want to share with us?"

Apollo leaned back in his chair, looked up at the ceiling, pretending to think.

"Uh," he said, "No."

"Darn."

Starbuck sat silently, sulkily, saying nothing.

"What's the matter with you?" Apollo asked.

"Nothing."

Boomer snorted. "He's jealous."

Starbuck glared at the Lieutenant.

"Of what?" Apollo asked, a sly grin on his face.

"Oh, you know, Sir," Boomer answered, laughing. "Nothing like a little loneliness to -"

Starbuck abruptly pushed back his chair and stood, silencing him. Boomer and Apollo just stared at him as he plucked his mug off of the table and stalked away.

"What was that about?" Apollo asked, when Starbuck was out of earshot.

"You got me, sir," Boomer replied, shaking his head. "You got me."

***

Starbuck stepped to the front of the flight simulator room, his gaze taking in the trainees all strapped into their partial vipers, ready to do some combat simulations. There she was. He let his gaze linger on her for half a heartbeat, before moving on. //Ensign Jaena Kel, age 19,// Starbuck had read in her file. //Native of Virgon. No wonder she's such a looker,// he thought.

"All right, listen up!" he said. "Today, we're going to re-enact a battle that we won by the skins of our teeth, the battle at Gaza Station, which, for those of you who don't know your history, took place in the 927th year of the great conflict. Now, we won this battle, but mistakes were made, so there's room for improvement. You've all been at this long enough now, so I expect you to trust your instincts. Remember that not all battles go by the book. In fact, very few of them do."

He went back to the control booth as the room darkened. On a massive screen before him simulated space was projected, with Gaza Station in the centre. The view would change, following the movements of the pilots as the battle shifted. The viper squadron was already underway as Starbuck settled into his chair, bright flares across the blackness and between the stars. At the bottom of the screen each pilot was listed, along with their status, position, and, when the fighting started, shots fired and hits scored.

The Cylons appeared, in attack formation, and the vipers turned to engage them. From Gaza Station, more computerized vipers were launched, and the screen was quickly full of laser blasts and swooping fighters breaking then returning to formation. The guns on Gaza were also firing, creating a deadly obstacle course for everyone to manoeuver through. Starbuck sat back in his chair with a disgruntled sigh and folded his arms over his chest. Nothing bored him more than watching these simulations. It took an effort to keep his mind from wandering.

His gaze flicked to Ensign Jaena's reading. So far she'd taken 35 shots, but had only 5 hits. Not an acceptable ratio. And now, there was a Cylon on her tail, chasing her as she turned towards Gaza Station. Starbuck hit the comm.

"Ensign Jaena, you never lead the enemy towards the target!" he snapped.

She turned again without answering him.

The other pilots were doing marginally better, he saw, but they seemed to be confused by the mad action around them. And then, a Cylon fighter got through all the defenses, was heading right for Gaza Station, under the guns --

"One got through!" Starbuck yelled. "It's gonna take the station!"

A Viper swerved to follow it, Ensign Theo, but he was too far back to catch it. And, he wasn't watching when another Cylon locked onto him, and fired --

Ensign Theo's light went out. Dead.

Starbuck shook his head, went back to looking for the Cylon fighter baring down on the Station, saw it just in time getting obliterated by -- by who? //Jaena!// He thought, frowning. He heard her and her squadron mates whoop at her timely save.

"Concentrate!" he snapped, quieting them.

Finally, it was over, the human side squeaking out another win, but with more casualties than in the original battle. Starbuck knew that, truly, it wasn't a bad showing, considering that this was one of the most difficult simulations he could put them through. Hell, he'd seen Apollo get blown out of the sky when he ran this one. And, he could see that the trainees, as they climbed out of the cockpits, were fairly pleased with themselves, comparing scores.

He stepped out of the booth to give them a few words of instruction and generally dampen their enthusiasm.

"Well," he said, "you won, congratulations. But, boys and girls, your shots taken/kill ratio was bad, and you let the enemy get way too close to the station."

"Lucky we had Jaena!" broke in someone.

"Yes, Ensign Jaena," Starbuck said, his eyes seeking her out, regarding her cooly. "You made the kill, but you were out of position. And it was you who provided the opening to begin with. I don't want to see that again."

Jaena's smile faded, and she bowed her head. The others shifted around uncomfortably.

"That's all," Starbuck said. "I'll post detailed results by the end of the day. Get out of here."

They filed out. He watched the back of Ensign Jaena's head until she'd disappeared out the door.

***

He couldn't stand it.

The thought of the Captain and that -- that -- *girl!*

Oh, those days on Callista 4 with Apollo were faded memories now. //Those wasted days on Callista 4...//

Starbuck sat in the duty office, the simulation results on a datapad before him. He should have posted them to the system hours ago. They'd all be wondering what was taking him so long.

Apollo came in, stopped, surprised to see Starbuck still there. This was his free time he was cutting into, incredibly out of character for the Lieutenant. Apollo peered over Starbuck's shoulder to see what he was working on.

"Those the sim results?" the Captain asked.

"Yeah."

Apollo reached down and picked up the datapad. Starbuck watched him read it, searching his face for some sort of reaction, but the Captain just replaced it on the desk without comment.

"Wasn't too great today," Starbuck said.

"Yeah, well, it's a hard simulation, Gaza Station. Gets me too, sometimes."

"Huh," Starbuck said, picking up the pad and rising to his feet.

"Something bothering you?" Apollo asked.

"No, Sir."

Apollo's eyes narrowed at being called "Sir". "You sure?"

Starbuck nodded. "I gotta go post these," he said.

"Okay. I'll see you later."

"Yeah. See ya."

Starbuck left the office, heading down to the training deck, three levels below.

She was waiting for him. Pacing back and forth before the console, rubbing her hands together nervously. Starbuck frowned, in no mood for any hysterics.

"Ensign," he said shortly, turning his back on her and inserting the datapad in the appropriate slot.

"Sir," she replied. "May I ask you a question, Sir?"

Starbuck sighed inwardly. "Yes," he said.

"Am I a poor pilot? I'd like to know, Sir, because if I am, I'll switch to another branch of service."

Starbuck looked at her. Her face was slightly flushed, but she stood perfectly still and gazed back at him unblinking.

"Well," he said, "Ensign, to be a good pilot you have to be out there for a lot of years." "Sir, forgive me, but I don't think you answered my question."

"I wouldn't say you're *poor*. You're, uh, adequate," Starbuck said, stumbling through his answer.

"And, Sir, is adequacy enough to warrant continuing?"

"You'll fit right in with most of 'em, Ensign."

She considered his words for a moment, then nodded quickly.

"Thank you for your time, Sir," she said. "I won't take up any more of it."

She spun on her heel and marched away.

***

After Callista 4, things really hadn't been the same between them.

At first it was good, more openness in how they talked to each other, more affection, and, Starbuck thought, desire, in how they gazed at each other. But the obstacles remained the same: no time alone together, due to miscellaneous crises, big and small; and Commander Adama, who seemed to need his son more and more. Apollo was spending an awful lot of time with him. Everyone wondered if the Commander was ill, but if that was the case, Apollo never betrayed anything.

And now, there was this Ensign Jaena getting in the way. Sure, everybody needs physical -- sexual -- contact. Everybody needs a good hard fuck to keep them going, but -- Starbuck closed his eyes against the pictures in his mind -- why couldn't Apollo have sought him out instead? Did the thought even cross the Captain's mind? Starbuck was all alone in his bed, as usual.

Gods, when was the last time he'd had sex with anybody? Weeks...maybe even a good month. What the hell was he saving himself for? Just hit the comm, call Cassie, or Athena, or Brie...

He felt himself wilting, shriveling, at the thought of any of those women. //Good Lord,// he thought to himself. //Don't tell me women are gonna be off limits!// That was much too depressing to consider for very long.

No, one good romp with Apollo would likely solve all these problems. Who knows, maybe they wouldn't even suit each other, wouldn't be remotely compatible. Then they could just shake hands and go back to the way things used to be.

But the same dilemma remained: How to get the Captain into bed. How to kiss him, how to get his clothes off --

Starbuck moaned unhappily, a wave of unquenchable desire washing over him.

***

There they were, the happy couple. Starbuck had no appetite, just pushed his food around on his plate, glancing up every so often to watch the Captain and Ensign Jaena. They were sitting together at another table, Apollo's left hand conspicuously absent, resting, Starbuck was sure, on the lovely Ensign's thigh. Boomer watched Starbuck watching Apollo, with a quizzical expression on his face. Something about this bothered Boomer, but he couldn't quite figure out what, exactly. Something in Starbuck's behaviour was familiar, though...

And then he knew. It came to him, suddenly, the slightly barbed comments that Starbuck had made, what, six years ago, when the Captain married Serina. Starbuck had been jealous then, too, only begrudgingly offered congratulations to Apollo. Then after Serina was killed, Starbuck was almost as inconsolable as the Captain. It had been guilt then, Boomer knew, Starbuck feeling terrible about everything he'd said. But the pattern was repeating itself. A silent, sullen Starbuck obsessed with the Captain and his lover of the moment.

"Hey," Boomer said.

"What?"

"If you're not gonna eat that, I'll take it."

With a sigh, Starbuck pushed his plate over to Boomer.

"This can't go on, you know," Boomer said, sticking a forkfull in his mouth.

"What can't?"

"This moodiness. You're making everybody miserable."

"Well, Boom-boom, there's plenty of other tables for you to sit at," Starbuck said, "if my company is getting to you."

"I'll keep that in mind, Bucko."

Starbuck's attention drifted back across the mess.

"What's with you and the Captain, anyway?" Boomer asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you keep staring at him, for one thing. If I didn't know any better..." Boomer trailed off, fork half-way to his mouth, thinking.

"What? 'If you didn't know any better', what?"

Boomer put the fork down, suppressed a small chuckle.

"Well, my ol' buddy," he said, "it's a crazy idea, but it makes a certain amount of sense."

"What?? Starbuck asked, a bit alarmed.

Boomer leaned in close to him, spoke softly. "If I didn't know any better," he said, "I'd say that *you* like the Captain, and you can't stand that he's spending time with that girl."

Starbuck fought to keep his expression from giving it all away, but felt his colour rising anyway.

"Yeah, that's crazy," he said.

"Thought it was," Boomer said, sitting back again, thinking smugly: //I gotcha, my friend.//

Starbuck glanced at his chronometre, pushed back from the table. Apollo met his glance as the Leiutenant passed the table they were sitting at, and Starbuck felt the Captain's eyes on him as he hurried out the door.

***

More instructing today. More of having his -- *his rival* -- gazing studiously up at him. Gods, Starbuck hated teaching, but everybody had to take a turn at it. Maybe some day, when they had sufficient numbers, they could set up an academy with full-time instructors, but for now, the duty rotated through the command staff. And it was just Starbuck's luck to have Jaena in this group.

Today, it was advanced combat techniques, as illustrated by holographic projections of bobbing and weaving vipers, with Starbuck providing the commentary. Movement out of the corner of his eye amongst the trainees distracted him, and he turned to see Ensign Jaena bending to retrieve something from off the floor.

"Problem, Ensign Jaena?" Starbuck asked.

"No, Sir, just dropped something. I apologize."

Starbuck went back to the lesson, the words he was saying so well known to him that he didn't have to pay too much attention. His mouth worked automatically. Sometimes he tried to jazz up these sessions with anecdotes or jokes, but today he wasn't in the mood. Finally, he came to the end, and the lights brightened, dazing them all momentarily.

Now, to question them. This part, Starbuck had to admit, could be fun.

He gazed placidly at them, deciding who would be his first victim. He skipped over Ensign Jaena. Oh, he was going to ask her something, but not right away.

"Ensign Theo," Starbuck said, smiling when the Ensign's face registered dread, "tell the class the most difficult manoeuver demonstrated here today."

A puffball question. Always start 'em out easy...

"Uh," Theo stuttered, "the fader flip, Sir."

"And what's your speed, when executing this manoeuver?"

"Maximum 4500 kps, Sir."

"Very good, Ensign," Starbuck said, scanning the room again. "Ensign Doane, where do you hit a Cylon cruiser to disable communications?"

"On top left flank, Sir, right by the command bubble."

"But don't you have to do something else first, Ensign?" Starbuck asked. It was a bit of a trick question.

"Oh," Doane thought for a moment, "yes, Sir, you have to aim for shield controls, after hitting the shields dead on to weaken them. Shield controls are on the belly, dead centre, under the guns."

Starbuck nodded. Now, it was time....

"Ensign Jaena," he said, taking in her expression of grim resignation, "what's the minimum ratio of thrusters to gravitational force?"

She stared at him, her mouth opened a bit, then closed.

"Could you repeat the question, Sir?" she asked, in a small voice.

"How about I rephrase it," Starbuck said condescendingly. "If you're out flying, and get too close to a planet or large asteroid or anything else with a gravitational pull, how hard to your thrusters have to work so you won't crash and go splat?"

Her cheeks coloured as the others snickered.

"Sir, I can't answer that," she said, flustered.

Starbuck kept his gaze on her for three or four seconds, then glanced around the room. "Anybody else?" he asked.

"I believe, Sir," said the star pupil, Ensign Doran, "that the ratio is 7 to 3, with some variation depending on the strength of the pull."

"Thank you, Ensign, you are correct."

Out of the corner of his eye, Starbuck saw Ensign Jaena sitting with her head bowed, thoroughly humiliated.

***

He was dozing when his door chime sounded. He still had his headphones on, but the music had finished a while ago. Starbuck pulled them off, set them on the shelf by his bed, and sat up.

"Come in," he said, rubbing his eyes.

It was Apollo, and he didn't look very happy. Starbuck braced himself, knowing what was coming. She'd complained, obviously.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Apollo asked.

Starbuck nodded, gestured at a chair, which Apollo lowered himself into.

"I want to know," Apollo said, "why you have such a big problem with me and Jaena." "I don't have a problem with that."

"Oh, really. Well, from the way you've been treating Jaena, and me, I have to disagree."

"Why - what'd she say?"

"That you seem to be bent on humiliating her, and I have to say that you?ve managed to hurt her confidence."

"Well," Starbuck said, "maybe she's not as good as she thinks she is." //Or as you think she is,// he added silently.

"Starbuck," Apollo said, leaning forward, "she didn't want to tell me, and I really debated about coming over here to talk to you. She knows it'll look like she's got some sort of special privilege."

"Doesn't she?"

"What does that mean?"

"Look, you want me to lay off, I'll lay off. Just say the word."

Apollo stared at him. "I just want you to be fair," he said.

Starbuck looked down, concentrating on his hands, twiddling his fingers. As the silence dragged on, he glanced up at this man he wanted so desperately to love, and saw only anger and hurt reflected back at him.

Starbuck relented. "Okay," he said, his tone softer, "maybe I've been a little hard on her. I'll - be more careful."

"I don't understand where this is coming from," Apollo said. "You've been out of sorts for months, now, Starbuck, and I worry about you."

Starbuck dropped his gaze to his hands again, said nothing.

"Do you think maybe you?re burned out?" Apollo asked. "You need a few days R&R?"

Starbuck sighed, shrugged. "Maybe, I don't know. I hate teaching, maybe that's part of the problem."

He heard Apollo shift in his chair, lean forward, trying to see Starbuck's face.

"Why won't you even look at me?" Apollo asked.

"Don't you think she's a little young?" Starbuck asked, deflecting the question.

Apollo sat back again.

"Well, coming from the original cradle robber himself, I'm a little surprised to hear you ask that. And why do you care so much?"

"It's just - awkward, teaching her, that's all."

"Yeah, well, I've had to put up with plenty of your bedmates, my friend," Apollo retorted. "You've never heard me complain."

Apollo rose to his feet.

"Is it serious, between you?" Starbuck asked.

Apollo shook his head in exasperation, ran his fingers through his hair. "Why do you want to know?"

No reply.

"Are you jealous?" Apollo asked. "Is that it? Jealous that she went for me, not you? Well, Bucko, all I can say is that's just too bad. Get used to it!"

Apollo stormed away, leaving Starbuck to sink into depression.

"Yeah," he murmured, "I am jealous, Captain."

***

Patrol. Starbuck tried to get more comfortable in the tight confines of the Viper cockpit. His seat was getting more and more stonelike as his weight compacted the thin padding. //Have to get maintenance to do something about this,// he thought to himself. //Getting' numb buns.//

He was glad to be out by himself for a few hours.

//Wait a second,// he thought. //I'm always by myself lately...//

Starbuck frowned. //Gotta pull out of this funk. Either make a move, or get over him.//

"I never would have thought it possible," Boomer broke in from his Viper somewhere off to Starbuck's left.

"What?" Starbuck said.

"Complete personality transference. I heard the stories, but I sure never believed 'em."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well," Boomer said, "it just struck me, sitting out here in the total quiet, that it's like I'm on patrol with Apollo. He doesn't talk too much, is always thinkin' about something. And then I actually had to *remind* myself that it was you over there, not him."

"There a point to this story?"

"Just that you're acting like the Captain, and he's acting like you. It's too weird..." "Fine. What do you want to talk about?"

"Me?" Boomer said. "Nothing. I'm not the one with problems."

Starbuck didn't answer, checked all his readings and monitors instead. Nothing in front of them, and the Fleet way behind, with only a homing signal to guide them back.

"Look, Bucko," Boomer said, "nobody can hear us. It's just you and me." Silence.

"I know," Boomer said, unwilling to give up, "that there's something going on between you and the Captain. And I know -- hell, it's obvious -- that it's making you miserable."

"Boomer, I -" Starbuck broke off, didn't finish the phrase: //I don't want to talk about it.//

It wasn't true. He did want to talk about it, wanted to unburden himself to someone who'd be sympathetic.

"Okay, Bucko, I'm gonna ask you something straight out. And you can tell me to go to hell if you want, I don't care. But here goes: Do you like the Captain?"

"Of course I like the Captain!"

"No, I mean, are you attracted to the Captain?"

Starbuck took a deep breath, releasing it slowly out his nose. This would be his first admission to anyone about his true feelings. This would be momentous, an important step on the road to coming to terms with himself. //Aw, what a load of psycho-crap,// he thought, amazed at what was going through his mind.

"I - I don't know," he stammered.

"I think you know. And I think that you are, but you won't admit it."

"Well, thank you Dr. Boomer for your assessment," Starbuck said sarcastically.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, my friend."

"I'm not ashamed!"

"Well, then?"

"Well what?!?"

"Quit yellin' at me!" Boomer said. "Geez, Bucko, I think you got it bad."

Starbuck's anger diffused.

"Yeah," he said, defeated. "I think I do got it bad, Boom-boom."

"But Apollo's not interested in you. Is that the problem?"

"In a nutshell."

"Ah, old buddy, wish I could help you with that, but I can't," Boomer said.

"Thanks," Starbuck said. "But you have helped, a little, anyway."

***

After patrol, Starbuck sought out Apollo, found him in a cargo bay, scanning ID strips on bins, looking for something. He was sure Apollo heard him come in, but the Captain didn't turn around to greet him.

"Need a hand?" Starbuck asked.

Apollo glanced back at him, shook his head. "No, thanks."

"What are you looking for?"

Apollo sighed. "Supposed to be battery packs down here somewhere, but I haven't found them yet."

"Apollo, I'm sorry about yesterday," Starbuck said. "And I'm sorry about Jaena. She's a good pilot, and I've been too hard on her."

Apollo put down the scanner and turned to face him. He leaned back against a bin, crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry about what I said, too," he said. "You make me insecure, sometimes. You can have anybody you want, and I feel like I have to work so much harder at it."

Starbuck smiled at the irony in his statement. //If you only knew,// he thought.

"It's okay," Starbuck said. He held out his hand. "Friends?"

Apollo clasped it, pulled Starbuck to him, hugged him.

Starbuck hugged him back, amazed, as always, that Apollo had no hang-ups whatsoever about expressing affection. And then the feel of the Captain's arms around him began working it's magic. Starbuck closed his eyes, trying to imprint on his memory every sensation. Oh Gods, Apollo smelled so good... Starbuck wanted to stroke his hair, brush his lips over his neck...

//Stop thinking like that!// he ordered himself, opening his eyes. Otherwise, something embarrassing was going to happen.

Wait a minute. Shouldn't they have let go of each other by now? This was quite a hug.

Okay, that was enough. Starbuck really had to get away from him now, before Apollo noticed his pounding heart, and... other physical reaction. Starbuck pulled back, and Apollo released him -- almost. He kept a hand on Starbuck's arm.

"You sure you're all right?" the Captain asked.

//Lord, please let me get out of this cargo bay...// "Yeah. I'm okay."

"Nothing you want to talk about?"

"I have to work this out myself," Starbuck said.

Apollo nodded. "Okay, but if you need me, you make sure you call."

//I need you,// Starbuck thought, //more than you'll ever realize.//

"I will," he answered, and turned to go.

Apollo dropped his hand, reached for the scanner he set down on top of a bin. Heavy-hearted, Starbuck moved towards the door. Just before he reached it, it slid open, and Ensign Jaena entered the bay. She gave Starbuck a quick, respectful nod, barely pausing in her steps, but Starbuck caught her smile as her gaze found the Captain. And, bitterly, he could imagine Apollo smiling back.

***

Starbuck sat at the bar, staring down into the bottom of his empty glass. He gave the bartender a winning smile as she came over to him. It was how he'd gotten three refills out of her, even though he'd used up his alcohol ration already. The buzz he had on was very pleasant, could only get better with another drink. The bartender had kind of a smoky look in her eyes as she poured him another, and her fingers brushed his as she pushed the glass back over to him.

"Thanks, beautiful," Starbuck said.

"I don't know how many more I can give you, soldier," she said huskily. "Maybe we'll have to move on to something else."

"I'll take anything you got," Starbuck said.

She gave him a coy look, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

"Stick around, Bucko. I'll make it worth your while."

She moved off to serve another customer. Starbuck continued to smile at her until she'd turned away, then leaned his head in his hands. Gods, now what had he gotten himself into?

But then again, some meaningless sex just might be the ticket.

//Shouldn't drink anymore then. Don't wanna embarrass myself,// he thought.

He was jostled on his left side. Starbuck raised his head, saw that Boomer had joined him.

"How ya doin'?" Boomer asked.

"Great."

"Yeah, you're looking pretty great. How long you been here?"

"Oh," Starbuck said, "long enough to proposition the bartender. Or maybe she propositioned me. I don't remember..."

Boomer looked at the woman serving some others at the other end of the bar.

"You gonna go through with it?" Boomer asked.

"I don't know. Probably should. Probably be good for me."

"Poor woman," Boomer said, "in for a night of 'I'm doing this because I think I should.' Sounds like fun."

Starbuck picked up his glass and tossed back the shot.

"Well, Boom-boom," Starbuck said, beginning to slur his words, "I'm open to suggestions."

"You're not in any shape to take suggestions, except go home and sleep it off. How many have you had, anyway?"

Starbuck frowned, thought. He had three on his rations, and she'd poured him 3 or 4 more... No wonder he was feeling so blotto.

"Seven?" he said.

The bartender appeared before him, bottle at the ready. Boomer quickly put his hand over Starbuck's glass.

"I think he's done, Morla," he said.

Morla scowled at them.

"Hey, Starbuck, I thought we had a deal," she said.

"I'll have to owe you, Morla," Starbuck said, sounding as drunk as possible, which wasn't entirely an act.

"I'm gonna collect on this IOU," Morla threatened.

"Lookin' forward to it," Starbuck replied.

Boomer pulled him off the barstool. The room spun and Starbuck stumbled, Boomer catching him before he hit the floor.

"Okay, buddy, we're definitely goin' home," Boomer said, putting one of Starbuck's arms around his shoulders.

They staggered into the turbolift, and Boomer propped Starbuck up against the wall. "Officers quarters," Boomer said, hoping that they'd get there without any stops.

No such luck. Four decks up the lift halted and Apollo stepped aboard. He nodded at Boomer, then looked at Starbuck who sagged against the wall, one hand on his forehead.

"Aw, shit," Starbuck murmured, seeing who it was.

"Having a nice evening, you two?" Apollo asked.

"You tell me, Apollo," Boomer replied, rolling his eyes.

"You taking him home?" Apollo asked Boomer.

"Yep."

"Well, I'm going up there, so if you want, I'll take him."

Boomer looked at Starbuck, trying to gage what he should do, but he got no clues from the man.

"Aw, what the hell," Boomer said, coming to decision. "He's all yours, Captain." Starbuck gave a short groan.

"See you tomorrow, Bucko. Captain."

Boomer was grinning as he stepped off the lift. Apollo watched after him, wondering just what was going on.

"Officer's quarters," Apollo said, and the lift continued on its way.

"You feel okay?" he asked Starbuck.

"It's all relative," Starbuck replied, rapidly sobering.

The lift stopped, and the doors opened. Apollo put a steadying hand on Starbuck's arm, guided him into the corridor and to his door. Apollo punched in the code, escorted Starbuck inside and to a chair, pushing him into it.

"You need any help?" Apollo asked.

Starbuck shook his head.

"It's okay for me to leave you like this?"

Starbuck looked up into the Captain's blue eyes, nodded.

"I think," Apollo said, "I'm going to give you a couple days off, starting tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"Anything I can do for you before I go?"

//That's a loaded question,// Starbuck thought.

"Do you have to go?" Starbuck asked.

"Don't you want to sleep?"

"I'm not tired, just a little drunk."

Starbuck's heart was beginning to pound as he realized that this was it. He was going to make a move. Just like on Callista 4, the alcohol was giving him courage...

Apollo looked at his timepiece.

"I can only stay about half an hour," he said. "I'm meeting Jaena."

The courage evaporated.

"Oh."

"Starbuck, you're going to be passed out by then, anyway."

"Well, I won't keep you here..." Starbuck said gloomily.

"You're making me feel like I'm abandoning you," Apollo said.

Starbuck slumped forward, elbows on the arms of the chair, head in his hands. He was getting a headache now. //Should've just kept drinking, gone off with Morla...//

He felt a hand on his head, stroking his hair. He peered through his fingers, saw Apollo kneeling before him, watching him, deep concern showing in the Captain's eyes.

"You're torturing me, you know that?" Starbuck said, hands still over his face.

"How?"

"You just are."

The hand went away.

"Starbuck, we have to talk about this," Apollo said softly.

"Talk about what?"

"About... what happened on Callista 4, and what's happening now."

Starbuck froze. //Callista 4? What the hell happened?// Gods, he'd been drunk there, too...

Apollo gently took hold of Starbuck's wrists, pulled his hands away from his face. He smiled at the Lieutenant's confusion.

"You don't remember, do you?" Apollo asked.

"I remember getting really drunk, but that's about all," Starbuck admitted.

"Well," Apollo said, "as I recall, we were sitting by the fire, and you suddenly went quiet. I thought maybe you had passed out, so I leaned over to see, and you gave me the surprise of my life, Bucko. You grabbed me and kissed me."

Starbuck did not remember that at all. "And what did you do?"

"I think I said, 'what the hell are you doing?', and you told me that you wanted to be closer to me, and that you really loved me."

"Oh, Gods." Starbuck felt himself going red.

"And then you said you had a gift for me, and toddled off to the shuttle, but I guess you never came back. I don't really know. We were both at the pass-out point, I think."

"But you never said anything!"

Apollo shrugged. "Well, I didn't know if you meant it, or if you were just drunk. I figured if you meant it, you'd bring it up again."

"Which I never did, because I thought that you'd told me to take a hike." Starbuck shook his head. "What a mess."

"Yeah."

Starbuck felt suddenly very shy, aware of nothing except the need to touch Apollo -- But then something in the Captain's eyes -- a distance, an almost tangible wall -- warned Starbuck about what was coming.

"But," Starbuck said, "you're gonna tell me to take a hike now, aren't you?"

"Well, Starbuck, I have thought about this - this whole you and me thing. I'm not sure that it would have been a good idea. We have to be able to work together, without distractions."

Starbuck looked at him. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Apollo said, "that I already have enough trouble sending you out on risky missions and worrying that you're not coming back."

"That's bullshit," Starbuck said. "You're telling me you'd have no qualms about sending Jaena off?"

"No, I'd worry about her, too. I worry about everybody, you know that. What I mean is, I have enough complications with my job, and my life, which are actually the same thing, I've finally realized, and -"

Apollo broke off, sighed. "I'm babbling."

"You sure are."

"I've got to get up," Apollo said, rising creakily to his feet. "Well, I suppose I could just fall back on the non-fraternization rules, if you like," he continued.

"Which you're already breaking," Starbuck reminded him.

"Starbuck, you've got to think about who we are: Captain and his first Lieutenant? I don't know how people would react to that."

"I think," Starbuck said, "that with the way we have to live, we gotta grab a little happiness wherever we can. And I think that most people here realize that."

"Some people find it a little easier than others, I guess."

They lapsed into silence, neither one knowing what to say.

"So that's it?" Starbuck said, finally. "The big 'no'?"

"I'm sorry."

Gods, this hurt him more than he ever thought possible. It was all Starbuck could do to keep his eyes from welling up.

"Yeah, okay," Starbuck replied, his voice quivering slightly.

"This hurts me, too."

"Good."

"I better go," Apollo said.

"Will you do something for me?" Starbuck asked, looking up at him.

"What?"

Starbuck hesitated, but this might be his only chance...

"Will you kiss me good-bye?" he said, seeing Apollo's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "I don't know if that's a good idea..."

"Then it's over," Starbuck said. "Promise."

Apollo thought for a moment, looking at everything except Starbuck. Then he nodded.

"All right," he said, his tone a bit apprehensive. "I guess I owe you one."

But Starbuck felt no guilt over forcing Apollo into this. He stood, feeling suddenly very steady, like he knew everything was going to be all right. Apollo was looking at the floor, wouldn't meet Starbuck's eyes as the Lieutenant came up close to him. But the Captain closed his eyes when Starbuck stroked his cheek, softly tracing Apollo's lips with his thumb. Starbuck felt him take a deep breath, and took one himself.

Cupping Apollo's face in his hands, Starbuck pressed his lips against the Captain's, feeling a wave of joy wash over him as all the passion he'd built up for this man finally found some release. And his joy grew as Apollo responded to him, slipped his arms around Starbuck's waist and pulled him closer. Their lips parted, and Apollo's tongue sought his, the contact sending new shivers of pleasure racing through Starbuck, making him weak in the knees, so that he swayed a bit. Apollo held him tighter, his hands moving over Starbuck's back in slow, sensuous passes. Starbuck's hands went around the Captain's neck, his fingers entangled in Apollo's dark, glossy hair. Their bodies seemed fused together, Starbuck's very soul swept away...

Finally, they had to come up for air, but they didn't break apart, still held each other tightly.

"You're telling me," Starbuck whispered, "that this is good-bye?"

Apollo touched his forehead to Starbuck's and closed his eyes. His heart was racing, his breath coming in short spasms. He couldn't seem to control his thoughts, was only aware of abject desire coursing through him, which Starbuck certainly had to be noticing, too...

"Stay with me," Starbuck whispered.

Apollo nodded, and Starbuck's lips and tongue worked their way up his neck and found his lips again. Apollo's hands moved down over Starbuck's ass, jerked the man up against him, hard, making them both gasp.

//Jaena --// Apollo thought as Starbuck's hands tugged at his uniform. //I'll talk to her -- sometime...//

THE END