1. Rewind

**So I may write more of this which is why I haven't marked it as complete. IDK. Brain permitting. Don't own it, don't sue me blah blah whatever. May contain traces of Kara/Sam/Lee tension. Scrap that, this is mostly just a precursor to those three getting it on.**

**...**

Rewind.

Before New Earth.

Before New Earth and before the mutiny. Before Tigh and Sam, the Chief and Tory. Before Dualla's brains all over the wall, the gloom and waste of a dead planet.

Before Earth. Before a resurrection. Before the algae planet and the Eye of Jupiter and an affair that was over before it really began.

Before the second exodus. Before the occupation.

Stop.

…

Flying over the city is different to flying CAP around the fleet. The cold, bleak surface of New Caprica is covered in dust flurries and patches of scrubby bushes, the few trees that haven't been cleared standing like burned skeletons amongst the concrete and iron buildings. She's in the aircraft equivalent of a family car, two seats in the front and three in the back. It's a color called _premium beige_ which is brand jargon for _doesn't show the dust_. It has a storage compartment in the back that gets used for pyramid uniforms and shopping. It fits neatly into the air park next to the school without any maneuvering, aside from a firm reverse thrust when the guardrail doesn't raise fast enough for her aggressive flying style.

It's different. Of course it's different. Ten Colonial years, and she hasn't even touched a Viper. Ten years since the fleet found a barely livable, semi-desert planet, and decided to call it home. Almost ten years since the Cylons jumped into orbit and made an inexplicable about-face that nobody has really bothered to explain.

The school is utilitarian and clean, with concrete block walls, Yellow painted trim, and shiny polished floors. Her footfalls are heavy as she approaches the auditorium, and she smiles when her eyes land on a tall, handsome man in shorts and a t-shirt.

"Bit chill for that getup, isn't it coach?"

Sam grins and wraps an arm around her shoulders. "But I'm just so _hot_."

Kara makes a face and shoves him away, sliding her hand down his arm and gripping his hand as he leans away. "You're disgusting."

She leads the way through the doors, and they settle into a couple of free seats near the back of the room. Sam's smirking, and she can almost hear his silent victory cry.

She turns, and leans toward him. "Just because I didn't make a toaster joke doesn't mean I'm not thinking it."

"I know, that's why it's so funny."

She huffs, and crosses her arms. Ten years of being married to an asshole Cylon. Or is it seventeen? Colonial years, New Caprica Years, frakking Cylon Years, she doesn't know or really care any more, apart from there being two summers in the next Colonial year, and her kid's insistence that really he's fifteen, not eight, and is _totally _allowed to go to that restricted film.

Sam's arm is back around her shoulders now, and he's rubbing back and forth with his thumb against her skin. She relaxes a little, allowing the rowdy crowd of parents and teachers to recede into the background. A muttered _love you_ in her ear, and the rub of his hair against hers, and she smiles.

"Love you too, jerk."

"Some might say... you're the bread to my specific electrical appliance."

"Oh, frak you." She's laughing now, and she elbows him in the ribs. The auditorium is full to the brim, and there are people standing around the edges, leaning gingerly against walls, trying not to let their exhaustion cause the collapse of a carefully assembled photograph wall, or leave a dusty butt imprint on the honor roll list.

Her gaze falls on a man standing on the far right of the room, almost invisible behind a taller couple. She opens her mouth, but Sam beats her to it.

"Hey, is that Lee?"

"...I think so? It's hard to tell, he looks kind of fat."

He snorts out a laugh, and fails to keep a straight face. "I am so glad you said that and not me." His eyes narrow for a moment, and a speculative look crosses his face. "I guess now that Dualla's back on Galactica, he doesn't have a reason to keep himself looking like a hot piece of ass."

Kara turns in her seat, sharp enough to elbow him in the ribs again, accidentally this time. "Dee's back on Galactica?"

Sam gives her a quizzical look. "Yeah... she left him months ago. I figured you knew?"

Kara sat back in her chair and sighed. "It's not like my job is to sign off divorce papers. How the hell did you find out?"

"Have you _heard_ the gossip I come home with from this place?"

She turned her lips down and nodded. "Point." She glanced back in Lee's direction. "What the frak's he doing at a Parents' evening, anyway?"

Sam turns his head and stares at her for a few moments.

"What? What did I miss?"

"..."

"They had a _kid?_"

"The kid is _one of our kid's friends_ what the actual..." Sam starts laughing, and Kara turns her head back toward the lectern at the front of the hall. "You're the senior administrator for the Fleet, how could you _not know _that the Commander of the Pegasus has a kid?"

"Sometimesisinnfngsrirouloon."

He leans in closer. "Excuse me, Colonel Thrace? Did I just hear you say-"

"Sometimes I sign things without looking, okay?"

"Like equipment requisitions."

"Yes."

"And transfer requests?"

"...Yes."

He smiles and ruffles her hair. "You are just the best."

"Frak you."

…

Ten years ago, she'd shouted her love for Lee Adama to the gods; In retrospect, it was horrifying and embarrassing and wonderful all at once. A few hours later she'd married another man and started a life on an only partially hospitable planet. Two years later they had a baby and a house, and her husband turned out to be some kind of Cylon God, but you know it's a weird universe and you never know what's going to move your furniture. Happiness is irrational and all that jazz.

Ten years ago wasn't the last time she'd seen Lee Adama, but it was the last time they'd parted as friends. Her station on the ground and his in orbit worked for both of them, the occasional stilted call or a yearly officers meeting the most contact they'd had, and now here he is at a frakking PE.

She's waiting for the less patient parents to make their way out, trading obnoxious faces with Sam, when his face stills and he coughs, eyes pointedly looking behind her. She turns.

"Commander Adama, fancy seeing you here." Sam's voice is relaxed and friendly, and Kara begins to realize this isn't their first meeting since the colonization.

"Anders, Colonel Thrace."

She stiffens as he holds out his hand, but takes it anyway. "Commander." She doesn't know what to do with her hand, so she waits until he drops it, and looks away. Sam clears his throat and jabs at her back with a finger. "So, what do you think about the new teachers? Some of them look pretty young, huh?"

Lee eyes her for a moment. "The older we get, the younger they look, I guess."

She shifts on her feet and finally lets her eyes rest on his. He's definitely put on weight. A few pounds here and there, a roundness to his once angular jaw and cheeks. It's the look of a man who's aged ten years in a few months. She opens her mouth to make a jab, but Sam talks over her before she says something stupid enough to get into a fight.

"We almost didn't recognize you without the signature rock hard Apollo bod." Sam's voice is teasing, and Kara turns her head to him slowly, eyes glaring daggers.

Lee huffs a laugh, "Are you trying to tell me I've lost my sex appeal, Anders?"

"There's no trying about it, Adama. You've lost your sex appeal, You need help, before you become involuntary celibate."

"You offering to help?"

The auditorium is empty now, aside from the three of them, and tension of two posturing alpha males. Kara grabs Sam by the elbow and drags him towards the exit.

There's a shout from behind them as she rams the doors open. "You could both help, I'm sure I can do with the extra challenge."

Her jaw drops to the floor as Sam shouts a reply replies. "_Call me_. Maybe we can all get a drink some time!"

The doors slam shut, and Kara slams Sam against the nearest locker bank. "Did you just..."

"What, don't tell me you've never thought about it."


	2. Two

There's a pain in her fingers where they grip the sheet, short blunt fingernails biting into her palm, as she sighs into the too firm pillow discarded next to her. Her feet press into the mattress, and she slides her leg down his torso, squeezing too tight against his ribcage, and he lets out a puff of breath against her.

He's smiling into her thigh now, fingers pressing against a spot inside her that makes her tremble and gasp and whine, and she orders him to help her but he won't, so she takes matters into her own hands and rubs once, twice, three times, until she grunts in relief as her foot presses hard into the small of his back.

Rewind,

_Don't tell me you've never thought about it._

She has thought about it. She's thought about it in every fantasy she's had while sitting at her boring frakking desk, doing boring frakking paperwork. She's thought about it in her dreams and sometimes even nightmares. She's thought about it when she's been on a call to Pegasus, and Lee politely wishes Sam well. She thinks about it in the shower. She thinks about it when she's frakking Sam, when he has his mouth on her, when she has him flat on his back and at her mercy, when he has her pressed up against the kitchen counter when the kid's at a friend's house.

_I won't tell you._

_So you have then?_

While she's flying home, she thinks about it more. She thinks about Sam's hard, firm body against Lee's softer one. She thinks about things that distract her from the controls, and swerves when the proximity alarm warns her she's on course to hit a communications tower. She's still thinking about it when she sets the plane down on its pad, and her eyes land on him waiting for her.

_Where's the kid?_

_Not due back from Roberto's until eight._

It's not until they're inside grabbing at clothing and hair and skin and anything else they can get their hands on, that she admits anything.

Forward.

"So then Roberto and Zachariah were all _I can get the shot backwards and standing on one leg _and nobody won until one of us got the shot."

Sam's looking at her over the kid's head, and snorts when the second boy's name is mentioned. _No_ is the incredulous word her mouth forms, and he nods, arms across his torso as he looks back down and listens to the story, the picture of a fascinated, yet amused father.

"And that's why you're late," Sam asks. The kid nods, and he ruffles her hair before tossing her over his shoulder and heading towards her room at the back of the house.

Later, as they're laying in bed side by side, she asks him how long he's been thinking about it.

"Since the day he dropped Zachariah off at the boarding house and ran into me in the carpark."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"Being jealous of someone and wanting to frak them all at the same time is confusing, okay? Besides, you never told me."

She turns her head to him and glares, incredulous.

He sighs and deflates a little. "Yeah, okay fair point BFF frak buddies and all that."

"Don't be an ass, we only did it the once."

"Yeah, but all that eye frakking." He's smiling, and she rolls her eyes and turns her head back to face the ceiling.

Minutes later she's asleep and dreaming of nothing but the emptiness of space, of a storm and of an urge to follow a wisp of nothing.

She wakes in a cold sweat and doesn't sleep for the rest of the night.


End file.
