Like Daphne

WHY do you follow me?  
-- Any moment I can be  
Nothing but a laurel-tree.  
Any moment of the chase  
I can leave you in my place  
A pink bough for your embrace  
Yet if over hill and hollow  
Still it is your will to follow,  
I am off;--to heel, Apollo!

Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)

She's always been comfortable in the game of sex. It's like Triad, but with fewer players. You bluff, you taunt, you score, and you walk away. And you never, ever let it get to you because it's just a game.

Most of the guys she's known have felt that way, too: happy to find a frak-buddy and happier not to be tied down to a dream of weddings and happily-ever-after after one night together. A few had been hurt, expecting her to be all romantic over them as soon as they murmured sweet nothings in her ear. Those were the ones she steered clear of as soon as she was out the door in the morning. Guys who wanted more than sex were, in her mind, nothing more than an unwanted complication. And, to be honest, none of them had been interesting enough to keep her attention more than a week or two, anyway.

But Kara's never seen Lee play games of the heart. Yes, he's had girlfriends: beautiful creatures he's treated respectfully and trotted out for academy dinner dances, none of them remarkable and none of them the same, one event to the next. He's avoided romances in the ranks: not easy with a sizeable cadre of the female cadets and, now in Flight, ensigns, willing to do most anything to get his attention. He would be polite but noncommittal and they'd turn to easier game.

And he's been a good friend, these years. A steady rival, first in the sims and now in space, as they vie for top rankings, a drinking buddy who, surprisingly, wasn't above the dirtier dives and a few shady capers for all of his perfect façade, a running partner who cheerfully chivvied her out of bed even after her worst binges. Someone who's been at her side through the academy, then Flight School and soon, Officer Candidate School, from which they'll both get their commissions and make their mark in the fleet. A reliable buddy, a constant friend or so she thought.

Lately, it's been hard for Kara to be so sure that things are as comfortable and steady with Lee as she'd assumed. There's something about the way she catches him watching her. There's something in the tension of his body as he stands beside her. There's something in the way he lingers nearby her at the Triad tables and is always ready to walk her back to her bunk. There's something in the way he leans forward in his chair, arms on his knees, hand clasped together, head intently tilted towards her as she tells yet another story about her exploits.

If she didn't know better, she'd think it was romance.

But it can't be.

Because it would kill her if she screwed up this friendship.

So she jokes too much as she runs into Lee in the hangar bay. She leaves the Triad table early to avoid his walk-by. She sets her alarm a half hour early, to be out on the track before he can stop by her bed. And she accepts an invitation to go out drinking with three of the other women in her flight group on their next leave and doesn't tell Lee.

Because it would just kill her.

So, like Daphne, she flees.

* * *

When he smiles gently but refuses to follow the laughing trail of her jokes, she gets a bit angry. It's not fair that he changes the rules of engagement midway through and threatens their friendship. She'd say this to his face but that would be admitting that there was a problem and maybe, just maybe, the problem was all in her head.

When he comes by the Triad table just as the game is starting, two days later, she smiles a bit too brightly and offers him a seat at the table. She tries not to notice how she's noticing that he sits so he can watch her as much as the cards on the table. And when she's played her last hand of cards, he's already up from the table, falling in step with her as she stumbles back to her quarters. His hand touches her elbow for a moment, steadying her, and the warmth shoots up her arm like an electric shock. Kara doesn't even try to joke this away, just stops and stands and stares at him, before darting through the door. She leans back against the closed door for a moment, feels the too-fast rise and fall of her chest and tries to banish the thoughts of his hands on her body. She sleeps poorly that night.

She's yawning and wiping away tears of weariness as she slowly jogs in the early morning chill. The track is shrouded in fog so she doesn't see Lee until she's almost upon him. He's jogging a fast, steady pace on the track, his breath coming out in measured huffs. Kara stops herself from tracing the lines of his form underneath his workout clothes and manages to confine herself to a curt nod.

"Out early," he notes as they match pace around the curve. Their feet thud in unison and Kara finds, despite her heightened awareness and unease, there's something comforting in this matched pace.

"Thought I'd get a jump on the morning. Early bird, you know."

Lee nods and laughd. "At least until your next late night out." She catches his twinkling gaze and can't suppress a smile. "Don't worry," he continued, "I'll be there to get you up and keep you honest."

Kara whips a hand into his shoulder. "Frak you," she says, half-heartedly and speeds up her pace, seeking oblivion in speed. She won't let her mind dwell on the image of Lee, bending over her bed, bending over her in bed. Her lungs burn as she races into the breaking sunlight.

She gets ready for a night out, feeling all the while as if she's two steps disconnected from her body. The others in the washroom are chatting excitedly about the new bar that's opened a ways from the base. Fresh blood. That'd be good. She thinks maybe all she needs is to find someone new, a handsome face who'll accept what she has to offer without asking anything more than what she wants to give. She shivers as she pulls her off-duty jacket over her shoulders, feeling the drag of the soft, heavy cloth like the hands of a lover. Closing her eyes, Kara marshals her strength, pastes on her party smile and heads out the door.

The pulsing noise and colour assaults her before she's fully in the door. Quickly separated from her classmates, she wends her way through the crowd and orders herself a double. Nursing the drink, leaning back against the bar, she looks for likely prospects. Before she can narrow her options down a bit, she starts at a hand on her shoulder.

"Kara."

Of course, it had to be him. She closes her eyes and curses under her breath before turning to face Lee with a careless smile carefully pasted on her face. "Lee. Fancy meeting you here!"

He just smiles before turning to the bartender to order a drink. Grasping the tumbler of ambrosia, he clinks his glass against hers. "To the end of term."

"To the end of term," she agrees and tosses back too much of her own drink at once. The burn of liquor down the back of her throat sends tears to her eyes that she quickly blinks back. She avoids looking at Lee, who's standing a bit too close to her, whether by choice or because of the press of bodies in the too-warm bar. She looks instead, in vain, for the other women she came with to the bar. Failing that, she turns back to Lee who stands so close now that she can see the stubble on his face.

"So."

"So."

She takes another drink, more slowly and carefully, looking around for a means of escape. Spots a head of dark hair to the right. It could be Cassie. It could be someone else. Good enough. She drains her glass and gives Lee a lopsided smile. "Gotta go."

She's soon at the other end of the bar attempting to scope out the men when she feels a tap on her shoulder. Her heart sinks as she turns around and sees Lee standing behind her. "What do I have to do to get rid of you?" Her question is not even half a joke but he doesn't seem to sense the undercurrents of frustration.

"I'm not going anywhere, Kara. Here to stay."

So she does the only thing she could can do, pulling back her right arm in a fist and punches him on the chin. Lee doesn't see the blow coming until the last moment and reels backwards, but recovers quickly enough to block her next punch. He grabs her fist, twists her arm behind her back and holds her against him. She tries not to notice the heat pulsing between them or his warm breath on her nape. Kara attempts to throw him by wrapping her ankle around his but only gets pulled off her feet for her troubles. "That wasn't nice, Kara," he chides.

"This man bothering you, miss?" A hefty bouncer looms out of the crowd and eyes Lee disapprovingly. Kara toys with the idea of letting Lee hang but answers honestly. "No, I was punching him."

"No fighting in the bar. You'll have to take it outside." Firmly he ushers them both out of the bar, Kara not even trying to fight it. They stand outside in the bleak, artificial glow of the streetlight and Kara tries, again, to look anywhere but at Lee.

"Sorry I spoiled your evening," she says.

"Don't worry," he answers, "I was only there for you, anyway." Lee rubs his chin gingerly and stands in front of her, capturing her attention. "There're only two things keeping me in the Fleet, Kara; Vipers and you. I wish you'd see it."

Kara looks skyward and begins to walk back towards the base as fast as she can with a sore ankle. They manage most of the trek in silence, nodding to the guard as they pass the gates. She turns to the residence, ready to dismiss Lee's earlier comments now that she's had some time to cool down. "Better get some sleep. You had a lot to drink tonight, Lee."

"One glass." Lee steps in front of her, grabbing her arms and forcing her to a halt. "I'm serious, Kara."

"Always serious, Lee. Always serious." She tries to wrench out of his grasp and he growls and steps in close.

"Always serious about this, Kara." He closes in for a kiss which she doesn't really try to evade. His lips are warm, soft and persuasive. She finds herself kissing him back without really thinking about the consequences. The last few days have worn her down and she hopes that Aphrodite will understand a little human weakness.

But soon the impetus for conscious thought disappears as he ends the kiss, pulling back enough to smile at her, freely and broadly and she smiles back, willing to lose herself in the moment. Hand in hand they walk to his quarters and close the door. For a second, Kara feels all the caution and pessimism rush back in on her but then she's kissing Lee and he's kissing her and they're locked together, pulling off clothes and falling back on the bed.

She pants, out of excitement and exhaustion, and stares up at him as he lies, poised just above her. "What are you waiting for?"

"You're just. . . so. . . beautiful," he manages before she pulls his mouth to hers and stops his stumbling compliments. Her hands drift from his face to his neck and then trace his shoulders. He has let one hand drift slowly along her neck and across her collarbone, and then his lips are also there, trailing a line of kisses across her sensitive skin while his fingers explore her oversensitive breasts.

Kara hisses and arches her back, involuntarily. She feels a smile, feral in her imagining, against her breast and takes revenge by lightly raking her fingernails down his back. It's Lee's turn to gasp. She then rubs one foot along his leg and grins, herself, as she feels him press against her. Both of them breathe quickly and she almost can hear their heartbeats in the quiet room.

Lee looks up at her, his eyes fierce and intent. "Now," she rasps but he eludes her impatient tugging to run his hands further down along her body. He ducks his head and she gasps as he parts her legs. She feels as if she's drowning in sensation, her eyes closing and her lips parting.

"Now," she demands in a voice that's strong but trembles with distraction and passion. This time Lee accedes, moving up against her so that their bodies come together. They pause in the instant of connection. Her eyes snap open to see his focused upon her and he thrusts. Kara responds and revels in his exhalation, watching his eyes lose focus before he leans in closer. They kiss, slowly and reverently as their bodies rock, drawing out the moments. She twists against him, driven by the increasing speed and urgency of the moment. Lee surrounds her as best he can, thrusting harder and faster as they both rush towards completion. She feels the tendrils of ecstatic release start to engulf her and her eyes drift shut again. She exhales his name as she loses control. Soon, he follows, breathing harshly against the tendons of her neck as his own sensation overwhelms him.

With seeming reluctance, he rolls over to one side, holding her close even as they disengage. Their bodies still lean towards each other without any conscious volition. Kara keeps her eyes closed to preserve this moment. She couldn't stand it if they talked. She couldn't bear it if he said something to break the tentative spell of peace and completion. Maybe tomorrow she'll wake up and find that this was all a dream. Or maybe tomorrow she'll awake to find that it was all as real and wonderful as she'd felt. Maybe the gods did bestow true happiness, even on the most unworthy of their worshipers.

So, like Daphne, she prays.

* * *

She wakes up in a bed that's a bit too warm and crowded for comfort yet, paradoxically, she's never felt better rested. But as soon as her eyes open in the half light of the room, she feels the ease fade away. She's in Lee's room: instantly recognizable by the haphazard row of books on the shelf above the desk and the preternatural tidiness everywhere else. Closer to the wall, curled around her, Lee sleeps. His eyelashes trace dark curves against the pale, taut planes of his face and he is impossibly beautiful. Apollo: the sun god.

She hears the even rhythm of his sleeping breath and wonders what awakened her until she hears the measured tread in the hallway outside. Before dawn, single, unhurried footsteps and – wisp, wisp – paper sliding under each doorway. It must be their assignments. Flight will end in another month. Ensigns will be shipped off to their next duty posts. Most of them are off to OCS, though a few have already completed that training. Others destined to work as transport pilots in the heavier carriers, will receive notice of their first posting.

Kara knows she'll be off to OCS. It was either that or getting drummed out of the service entirely for all her times in the brig. But she's been pretty good this last quarter with only two brief stints in hack. And there's no question that Lee Adama will be heading to OCS: her only peer in the Viper and certainly one of the stars in the classroom. Serious, steady, maddening, amazing Lee. She smiles to herself as she imagines the two of them, together there. Maybe this hadn't been such a mistake after all.

The footsteps come closer and a neat octagon of paper slips slides in under the door. Unconsciously, she slips out of the bed and pads to the door. Turning the paper over, she skims the conventional wording: pleased to inform – outstanding record – top candidate – assigning you – War College – thirty days.

The paper silently slips from her fingers back to the floor. War College. No ensign, green out of Flight, has been sent there in years. Trust Lee Adama to be the one they chose for the elite posting. War College back on Caprica would take him far out of her orbit. She'd be finished with OCS and posted to her first assignment before he finished there. Not that it would mean anything to him.

War College: the ultimate accolade for a young officer, the unimaginable honour for an ensign, fresh out of flight. Lee would be caught up in something much bigger, more exciting, than any bonds of friendship with a slightly seedy, troublemaking classmate could withstand.

Kara knows what she had to do. She quietly gathers her clothing and pulls on enough for decency's sake. Picking up her shoes, she gingerly opens the door and slips into the hallway, seeking refuge in her own room. There, the expected acceptance to OCS sits untouched on the floor.

She spends the remainder of the term assiduously avoiding Lee. She takes up lap swimming, explaining to her hall mates that she's injured her ankle enough to curb her running. She stops playing Triad on the base and spends her leave time playing cards with the unsavoury types in the portside bars. She ends up in the brig four times for disorderly conduct and graduates only through the grace of a commandant who kindly informs her that she's too good of a pilot to hold back and that he'd love to have her come back as a flight instructor once she finishes her first field posting. She smiles at the thought of showboat Starbuck, flight instructor, and looks around the base in her last few days with a considering eye.

All the while, she makes sure to play least in sight when Lee's around. She hears, second and third hand, of his temper and chilly attitude. She knows what she's done is for the best, however, and expects that someday, when he's made Admiral, that maybe she'll be in control of herself and her hopes enough to look him up at some future class reunion.

In the meantime, like Daphne, she turns away, hardens her skin and sets down roots. She wonders, sometimes, though, if Daphne ever had any regrets.


End file.
