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(crack!)fic: she's the one

April 16th, 2007 (05:00 pm)

mood: cold
tunes: judy is a punk - the ramones

title: she's the one (aka: starbuck is a punk rocker)
author: drollicaeipathy
summary: crack!fic. starbuck, helo, boomer, apollo, tigh. apollo wants starbuck, starbuck just wants to listen to the caprican vipers, tigh wants to put them all in the brig, hilarity ensues(?).
rating: pg-13 (language)
spoilers: none. takes place season one.

a/n: first, this is beta-free. second, there are a few things you have to know. without them nothing will appear wondrous. really. kara was posted on galactica directly out of academy. zak is alive (he flew raptors on the solaria but like lee was on galactica at time of attacks) and never dated kara. lee and kara only have a passing knowledge of one another. oh, and helo was with boomer when she returned from caprica.

“Hey Buck,” Helo commented around a lollipop, entering officers quarters.

“Helo,” she replied with a nod of her head, turning down the volume on her headphones.

“Anything good?”

“Caprican Vipers,” she told him with a grin. “Their latest and greatest."

Throwing himself down on his own bunk with a smirk he added, “And last.”

“Frak you,” Starbuck growled sitting up to face him and removing the phones finally.

“You know they all died in the attacks,” he stated, “and you really need to accept it.”

“Never,” she replied, smirking.

He removed his boots causing Starbuck to grimace and hold her nose against the stench. “Maybe you could lead some kind of crazy frakking mission back to Caprica and save them.”

She looked at him disbelievingly, “I can’t believe you didn’t when you were there, frakwit.”

“Whatever,” Helo mumbled lying back in his rack hoping to get at least a little sleep before the triad game that night. Standing over him, Starbuck was clearly having none of it. He groaned, “What?” She only leered. He sighed and grabbed for his boots.

Apollo, the son of great war hero Bill Adama had just returned from a very successful scouting mission during which time he had taken out six raiders and discovered a mineable tylium source. He felt pretty good, a vital part of the Galactica team as he wandered down the corridors.

“Hey, Apollo, congrats,” Gaeta told him as he strolled past toward the CIC.

“Nice work with the tylium, Apollo!” the chief called out as he passed, slapping him on the back.

“Good job taking out those raiders,” a crew member he didn’t recognize commented with a grin.

“Thank you,” Apollo returned to each of them, smiling and nodding his head.

As he was coming around a final corner, heading for the mess hall, the speakers above him crackled to life.

“Is it on,” Starbuck asked aside to Helo, he nodded and pointed to the mic in front of her.
“Captains and Lieutenants, deck-hands and viper pilots,” Helo coughed, Starbuck sighed, “and raptor pilots,” he grinned. “I present for your listening pleasure,” she paused for effect, “the Caprican Vipers! Here on Galactica radio”. Music exploded all over the ship and cheers were heard.

In the rec room, pilots all around Starbuck and Helo were laughing, jumping up on tables, and dancing. Boomer raced over, grabbed Helo’s hands, and they began to turn in circles, bouncing up and down. Starbuck stepped up on the table closest to her, turning left and right, and bobbing her head.

As the rest of the ship followed suit, chaos breaking out ship wide, the commander sent his right hand man Colonel Tigh to put an end to it. He sent the man off with a warning, “Don’t be too hard on them. They’re just trying to lighten spirits around here.” Tigh grumbled all the way from CIC to the rec room. Starbuck was never anywhere else.

“Cut that noise right this frakking minute,” he bellowed, entering the room. The pilots froze. Boomer hiding behind Helo who attempted to shelter himself behind Starbuck.

“Colonel Tigh,” she exclaimed, “I though you’d never join us”.

“Starbuck, I want that Gods-forsaken noise off the PA system.”

“Or what?” she returned with a smirk. Helo groaned.

“The brig?” Helo stated, unsurprised. “Wonderful. Because you know I don’t spend enough time in here.”

“Can you ever?”


“Seriously Helo. Calm down. I’ve served more brig time than anyone in the history of Galactica. I’ll make sure you feel right at home,” Starbuck glanced at the bed and turned back to Helo, cocked her eyebrow and grinned predatorily.

Helo put his hands up in the air and backed up, “Buck,” he coughed, “you, ah, know that you’re my best fr…”

He was cut off as the woman across from him pulled a deck of cards out of her pocket, “Triad.”

Helo sighed in relief. “You know for a minute there I thought you wanted to,” he trailed off.


“Nothing,” he shook his head and repeated, “nothing.”

She snorted, “Please,” Helo looked up as she continued to shuffle the cards, “like I would frak in the brig.” They shared a laugh.

“You mean, like you haven’t.”

Starbuck just smirked. “Come on, we’ve got some time to kill before the Old Man busts us out of here and I want to be ready for that frakking triad game tonight”.

“Yeah,” he replied with a smile.

“Am I really your best friend?” When Helo looked up she continued, “I didn’t know you had so few friends.”

“Bitch,” he unwrapped a lollipop placing it between his cheek and teeth. “Deal”. She did.

It was before dinner, when Apollo was once again moving through the corridors talking to himself. “What don’t girls go for me?” he wondered. “I’m a viper pilot, the commander’s son, my face has really cleared up, and I look amazing in a towel.”

Anastasia Dualla, or Dee as he had been told to call her was approaching from the opposite direction. “Hey Dee,” he commented and she stopped.

“Hey Apollo,” she started, her eyes scanning the hall and those passing them. “I was on the comms today during your run. Nice job on those raiders”.

“Yeah, thanks,” he started, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Dee looked at the hand then returned her eyes to the man in front of her, “So I’ll see you around?”

Apollo was surprised that she was leaving so quickly, “Oh, sure. In the rec room? Tonight?”

She was glancing around him now, clearly intent on moving on to talk with someone else, “Sure. See you then.” As she moved past him she turned and called, “Bye!”

“What happened?” he asked himself in frustration.

As he ran a hand through his hair, Cally, a deck-hand approached him. “Apollo!”

“Hey Cally, baby,” he commented, attempting to ooze confidence.

She leaned up again the wall, “You going to the triad game tonight in the rec room?”

“Yeah, I might be there,” he replied, remaining non-committal, nonchalant.

“Nice, maybe I’ll see you around or something.”

Apollo replied with a shrug, “Sure.” Cally scurried off down the corridor toward a man wearing orange coveralls. When she was out of hearing distance Apollo slammed his fist against the wall, “What the frak is wrong with me?”

There was music coming from up ahead and he walked toward it. Coming from the opposite direction was Starbuck, Galactica’s top gun. She had on headphones, music was blasting from them so loud that he could hear the song from where he stood. He didn’t recognize it.

“Starbu…” he started but caught himself, instead going for a more casual approach he quickly arranged himself against the wall, hoping she would notice his laid back posture.

She was alone and Starbuck was never alone, there was always a hoard of people following in her wake. There was a slight skip to her step. It looked as if she was having a hard time keeping the urge to dance in.

As she moved past him Starbuck paused, leaned back and into his personal space, and looked him straight in the eye. He wanted to say something, at least say hello, but instead he coughed. She smirked in reply, reached out, buttoned the top button of his dress blues, and blew him a kiss. She continued moving down the hall but with a sway to her hips that Apollo had not noticed before.

At the last moment, before turning around the corner she glanced back at him letting her eyes roam over his form before resting back on his eyes and giving him a wolfish smile. Then she was gone. The music became fainter as she left him awestruck in her wake. Apollo knew that was it, he let out a breath of air he didn’t know he had been holding and placed his forehead against the cool metal wall beside him. He had to have Starbuck.

Apollo looked up. He needed to see Gaeta.

“Gaeta,” Apollo nodded as the man in question peered around the hatch leading into his office.

“Captain. You asked to see me?”

“Yes, come in. Close the hatch.” Apollo was very serious. Gaeta took a seat on the opposite side of the desk and cleared his throat.

“Right, yes, to the point,” Apollo commented, more to himself. “I was, well I heard you are the man to go to in the matters of,” he didn’t know how to put it, “the heart?”

“Oh,” Gaeta said understanding, “you want me to set you up with one of the lovely ladies here on Galactica. That’s fairly easy and comes much cheaper than extra socks these days.”

Apollo sighed in relief. He had help. “I want to, well, take out Starbuck, if you can still call it that.” Gaeta did not reply at first. His jaw dropped, his mouth hung open, and his head lolled back. “What?”

Then finally he found his voice, “Starbuck? Are you frakking serious? What about a nice petty officer? Maybe a medical assistant”.

“No,” Apollo shook his head vehemently, clearly unwilling to accept any substitutes. “Starbuck is the only one I think about. Blowing raiders out of the sky, playing triad, resting in her bunk in just her bra,” Gaeta gave him a strange look but he went on obliviously, “sucking on one of those cigars,” now Gaeta cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

“You know Apollo,” he told him leaning forward, “I sold you your first downed raider so that you could get a little respect around here, I mean, that was easy compared to this.” He sat back, “How are you doing in the way of tradable goods?”

Apollo sat thinking for a moment before his face lit up, “I have a bottle of vintage ambrosia that I’ve been saving for a special occasion.”

Gaeta reached forward and shook his hand, “I’ll draw up the contact.”

Across from him Apollo was nearly breathless with excitement, “So you really think she’ll go for it?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Gaeta said, standing to leave, “I have a man on the inside.” Apollo stared, not questioning as Gaeta grabbed the phone, and had Helo paged to the CAGs office.

The head was crowded, the first shift of pilots had just come off of rotation at CAP, and among them were Starbuck, Helo, and Boomer, standing in front of a bank of sinks.

Helo leaned, his hip against the nearest sink, towel slung low over his hips and pinned his blonde best friend with a look. “What do you think of Captain Apollo?”

“Adama’s son?” Boomer asked.


Starbuck shrugged and smirked into the mirror. Her image smirked back and she laughed, “He’s a pretty good CAG I guess but he’s such a dork.” Boomer nearly fell over giggling. Helo seemed perturbed.

“That’s not really what I meant,” he told her.

Boomer pressed between them as Starbucks glared back at Helo, “I think he’s a fox. If that’s what you mean”. Helo and Starbuck’s jaws hit the floor.

“I’m so telling the chief,” Starbuck told her with barely concealed mirth.

“Go ahead,” When Starbuck cocked an eyebrow in surprise, she went on, “but I will be forced to tell everyone what you said one very drunk night on Virgon.” That wiped the grin off her friend’s face.

“What did she say,” Helo demanded.

“Don’t you say one frakking word, Boomer.” She didn’t but smiled serenely in response.

Helo, clearly annoyed with his friends and thinking he should start spending more time with the men of Galactica, looked pointedly at Starbuck once more, “Can we get back to the topic at hand, Buck?”

She met Boomer’s eyes in the mirror and winked, “And what would that be?” she asked, brushing her hair back from her face.

“Apollo,” Helo groaned in exasperation.

She knew exactly what he wanted to talk about and couldn’t believe that Helo would sink so low as to try and play matchmaker for her. Well, she wasn’t going to make it easier for him. “Apollo is so boring his brother is an only child.” The three pilots erupted into laughter; Helo couldn’t help himself. Boomer fell against the sink she was standing beside and their laughter continued until Helo thought he would choke and Starbuck’s towel looked precariously close to falling down.

“Well, what do you think of Zak then?” Boomer questioned. Helo shot her a look of annoyance.

“Oh please,” snorted Starbuck, “he’s still practically a nugget. He would need entirely too much training if you get my meaning.” Helo groaned and Boomer slapped her on the back, grinning.

“Please stop,” Helo interjected. He did not want to hear anymore. Really.

Starbuck checked her teeth and stared at herself in the mirror for a moment, “And besides, you know Johnny is the only one for me.”

Now both Helo and Boomer groaned and Helo reminded her, “He’s dead, Buck”.

“You keep saying that.”

“Because there is no way the Caprican Vipers got off the planets in time and if they had I think we would have heard about it on Talk Wireless by now.”

“I need a frakking man, Helo. Not some daddy’s boy. Someone who can drink me under the frakking table,” she smirked, “or at least try.” Boomer nodded in full agreement.

“And play a woman like a finely tuned…” Boomer began only to have Helo clamp a hand over her mouth.

“And be a God at the triad table as well as in the sky.”

Boomer mumbled something around Helo’s hand, still firmly in place. All Starbuck caught was the word, “bunk,” but she knew what she meant.

“Well, obviously that Boomer.” Helo looked from one woman to the other wondering how they had communicated without understandable words, he shrugged, assumed it was a female thing.

“Look, all I’m saying Gaeta,” Helo went on, removing the lollipop from his mouth and pointing it at the other man, “is that this is going to be a lot harder than you let on to that guy. Starbuck is onto us.”

Gaeta rolled his eyes, “And what is she going to do, Helo? Steal your candy?”

Helo reeled back, narrowing his eyes, “You don’t want to know the kind of things she’s capable of.”

That caused Gaeta to swallow more audibly but he continued, “Just try to have a little backbone. Apollo is going to be here any minute and we’re going to explain the plan.”

“Yeah,” Helo told him, nodding slowly, “but it’s his funeral.”

“Don’t worry. That’s all covered in the contract he signed.” The two men shared a grin.

Apollo entered through the hatch, glancing behind him, and shutting the door. “So, what do you have for me,” he asked, rubbing his hands together with glee. It was Helo’s turn to roll his eyes because the guy, CAG or not, was as Starbuck put it, a total dork.

“We think we have everything worked out,” Gaeta commented, “we just have to wait for the right moment but you need to be ready.” Off of Apollo’s confused expression he explained, “Welcome to your first practice session.”

Apollo glanced between Helo, cracking his knuckles and Gaeta’s patented grin and faltered, “Couldn’t I just practice with myself some more”.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve done enough of that already,” Helo mumbled in response.

Gaeta, pointedly ignoring Helo, motioned for Apollo to take a seat at the table in the room, “How good are you at triad?”

“I hold my own,” Apollo told him proudly.

“Right,” he motioned for Helo to take a seat as well. “Well, you’re going to need to be a lot frakking better.”

Helo shuffled the cards and began to deal, “Lesson the first.”

Starbuck was lying back in her bunk after a long shift at CAP. One her last cigars was placed firmly between her lips, her eyes continued to slide closed, and she slowly bobbed her head along with the Caprican Vipers’ song currently playing. The bunkroom was empty except for her and she was savoring the moment, enjoying listening to music without headphones for a change.

As she finally slipped from her bunk, peeling off her sweat soaked double tanks and grimacing at the film of grime left on her skin, she sang along. Her hips swayed back and forth dangerously as she removed her sweatpants and grabbed her shower stuff. In nothing but her regulation issue briefs she was bent over searching through her locker when the hatch opened.

She waited. No one spoke. Either the person was lost or was the CAG. He never said a word to her. On occasion he attempted to but he always ended up stammering and walking away, leaving her laughing in his wake.

And now with Helo and all his questions about Apollo she just wanted to punch them both in the face. So she went on with what she was doing. Frak him.

When she turned, towel now firmly in place, shower stuff in hand he was leaning back again the bunk ladder, opening staring at her.

At first Starbuck was annoyed but then she had a rather wicked idea and plastered a predatory grin on her face. As she moved toward him some of that calm façade slipped away. By the time she pressed herself against him, pinning Apollo between her body and the ladder, his breathing had become erratic. When she planted her lips fully on his, savoring the feel for a moment, his eyes went wide as saucers.

She pulled back and he stuttered. With a wink, she ruffled his hair and bounced out of the room. On one side of the hatch Starbuck smiled smugly believing that nothing ever changed. And on the other side Apollo remained frozen in place, dumbfounded, his mouth continuing to open and close; no words came out and he looked like a fish out of water.

“It was just like Helo said,” Apollo told Gaeta later that night.

“See, all you need to do with Starbuck is challenge her and she’ll play right into your arms.”

“So, you really think I’m ready for this?”

“Apollo. You have everything Starbuck could want,” he paused as his eyes roamed over the bunk room. “Ambrosia, a couple of Caprica’s finest cigars, music chips,” Gaeta’s eyes widened comically, “a frakking chocolate bar”. Then to himself, “Frakker was holding out on me.”
Apollo grinned.

“Where did you even get all of this?”

“I had to trade a lot of favors.” He shrugged, “Being CAG has its benefits.”

“And being the commander’s son doesn’t hurt,” Gaeta observed.

Apollo rolled his eyes in response. “Now the question is what kind of favors she’s going to be giving out tonight.”

“She just lost big at the triad game,” Gaeta told him, slapping him on the back, “she’s going to be a looking for a good time.” Apollo looked hopeful. “She’ll be a pushover,” he added.

“…yeah, well all that wouldn’t have mattered if frakking Tigh hadn’t walked in on us,” Helo went on.

“Oh Lords, Tigh? Was he sober?”

Helo just shook his head, grinning, and staring at his feet.

“Oh don’t quit on me now,” Starbuck demanded, still smirking, clearly enjoying her friend’s discomfort.

“Wait,” Helo perked up, “did you hear the latest about the CAG?”

“Apollo? You mean he actually did something interesting enough that people are talking about it?”

Helo laughed and opened his mouth to speak but closed it again as the rec room phone rang.
“What the frak?” asked a surprised Starbuck. “Who’s calling the frakking pilot’s rec?” There was no response from the man across from her. She stood and answered.


“Uh, hey, Starbuck. It’s Apollo.”

“Who,” she asked, scratching her head and motioning for Helo to join her at the receiver.

“Apollo? We bunk in the same room. The CAG?”

“Oh right,” she replied, winking at Helo who was pointing at the phone and mouthing ‘who?’.
Starbuck covered the mouth piece, “its Apollo on the line.” Helo laughed.

“Yeah, well, I’m here in the empty bunkroom. Drinking some ambrosia, smoking a quality Caprican cigar, and listening to a rare, live Vipers chip wondering if you’d like to come out and get drunk with me tonight.”

She was quiet a moment as her forehead drew down in concentration and then as if by magic the tension drained and she grinned that wolfish grin, “Sure, I’ll come right down”.

“I really wish you would reconsider,” he started before realizing she had agreed.

“I already said yes, Apollo.”

“Uh, yeah,” he stammered, “see you soon then.”

“Right,” Starbuck said with a nod, “bye.”

Helo was impressed, he never actually believed that Gaeta’s plan would work, not on Starbuck. But he certainly wasn’t going to bring that up with her now. Instead he commented, “I thought he was so boring, Zak Adama was an only child, Buck?”

“Yeah, well, if he would change for me, you know? I mean I never went in for the polished stick up his ass type.”

She was smirking and Helo felt the first stirrings of guilt in his gut. “You’re going to destroy him, aren’t you?”

“Physically or mentally?” she asked him, rubbing her hands together.
Helo shook his head, “Either.”

Starbuck shrugged, “If it makes you feel better,” she placed a hand on his shoulder, “it’s defiantly going to be physical first.” He gave her a look, “Like I’ve never seen him in the gym? That body is going to…” she was interrupted.

“Stop, I don’t want to know.”

“But he’s just so sweet looking like a little cherub,” Starbuck went on, swiftly changing gears.

“I know,” Helo told her, “I think he’s just a nice guy.”

“Yeah, well they can’t all be tall, roguish, and ruggedly handsome, Helo”.

“You forgot God-like.”

Starbuck erupted in laugher and strolled out the hatch.

Rounding the corner, Starbuck came to an abrupt stop, there was a triad game going on in the mess. She figured peering in to see what was in the pot couldn’t hurt. Apollo would wait. Clearly.

When she noticed a music chip, a band Johnny Caprica had been in before the Vipers, she requested to be dealt in. Anastasia Dualla passed Starbuck a few cigarettes and commented with a smile, “You can pay me back after you take this pot.” Starbuck smirked and threw in her ante.

Three hands more and Starbuck had paid back the petty officer with interest. New socks were a much needed commodity on Galactica. And was about to be dealt into another hand before she excused herself for a minute. Music chip in hand she grabbed for the mess’ phone.

“Hello?” was the semi-slurred response.


“Starbuck? Where are you,” he asked, attempting to keep the rising panic out of his throat. The only thing keeping it at bay was the copious amounts of ambrosia he had already knocked back while waiting.

“Gods, it’s horrible, Apollo. There has been a major accident down on the hanger deck,” she rushed on, looking back at the table. “I’ve lost a lot of blood and, um, might need to have my arm amputated, I’ve got to get to life station for immediate surgery and a blood transfusion.”

When he didn’t respond she went on, “So, I’ll see you for CAP tomorrow, bye!”

As Apollo repeatedly slammed the receiver against the wall screaming in fury Gaeta burst into the room, “There’s a triad game going on in the mess.” He was breathing heavy, “Starbuck is winning big.”

Apollo stared at him, clearly attempting to grasp what had just happened.

Gaeta grabbed him by the arm, yanking him upright, “Go get her,” he practically yelled in the other man’s face. He added, “Or else I’ll have to give you a refund,” and kicked Apollo out the hatch.

Starbuck raked her winnings in, stuffing things into her pockets, “It’s been a pleasure kids.”

“Leaving so soon, Starbuck,” Ellen Tigh asked, appearing behind her.

Starbuck sneered and opened her mouth to respond when the other woman reached out and snatched the freshly lit cigar from her lips, and disappeared out the hatch.

There was a collective intake of breath around the room before Starbuck screeched, “Mother-frakker!”, and tore out of the room after her.

As he walked briskly down the corridor thinking of all the things he wanted to say to Starbuck when he got his hands on her, all over her in fact, he saw the woman in question sprint past, following who he had thought was Ellen Tigh.

Starbuck abruptly halted, spun around to face him, and shouted, “What are you waiting for?” His mouth opened, closed. “Get her!” she screamed. With out thinking he ran after the XO’s wife.

Ellen Tigh was fast for a woman in high heels and a skintight skirt. She also must have been drunk, crazy, or both to try and steal a cigar from Starbuck.

A hatchway swung open causing her to falter and as Ellen went flailing to the ground, arms swinging wildly, she grabbed onto Apollo, and took him with her.

The surprised sound he made was all he got out before hitting the deck, hard. Ellen was probably worse off, groaning under the weight of the CAG. Starbuck didn’t seem to notice, she merely grinned as she plucked her cigar out of the woman’s fingers. She examined it and seemed to find it satisfactory and placed it back between her lips before taking in the sight of Apollo. He was still sprawled out, eyes blinking, the wind clearly knocked out of him.

“Come on, flyboy,” she said as she helped him to his feet. He was clearly disoriented.
Starbuck figured she might as well help him back to the bunkroom. She was heading there anyway and he had gotten her cigar back. With one more glance at Ellen, who moaned, she slipped an arm under Apollo’s and they headed off.

The bunkroom was obviously set up for a date. There was booze, music, and even a candle. A frakking candle. Starbuck whistled, Apollo dragging along beside her, “Looks like somebody’s getting laid tonight.” Sparing a look and a grin for the man beside her, she suddenly winced, remembering their earlier conversation. “Frak me,” she commented seriously.

“That was kind of the plan,” he grumbled, barely coherent.

“You did all this for me,” Starbuck questioned. He nodded, crawling into his bunk.
With a sigh she turned to face him. “Look, I had no idea,” she sat down on the edge of Apollo’s rack. “I thought you just wanted to,” she shrugged.

Apollo still wasn’t responding.

“Friends at least?” Starbuck stuck out her hand in his direction, eyes questioning and almost a little shy.

“Friends,” he nodded, taking her hand and pulling her closer. Apollo had never seen hesitant kindness in her gaze before and wanted to savor the moment.

Their faces were close, “No one has ever done something like this for me,” she told him.

“I don’t know why.”

And her lips pressed against his. They were claiming and demanding but sweet. There was nothing brutal about the kiss and yet it was primal, lustful.

When Starbuck pulled back, lips full and red from the kiss, Apollo took several deep breaths, “What happened to friends?”

“Frak it,” she told him, voice husky and yanked the privacy curtain closed.

The hatch banged open revealing a disheveled Helo and what appeared to be a tipsy Boomer. Helo was singing. Boomer was laughing. They both came to an abrupt stop when they spotted them at the table in the middle of the bunkroom.

“Uh, hey Buck”.

“Boomer,” she nodded, “Helo. You guys know Apollo.”

Her hair was mussed up in the back and she was kind of glowing, in that recently frakked way. Helo’s eyes flashed to the man across from her. Only in double tanks and cargos, the CAG seemed more relaxed that he had ever seen him. Helo was actually a little disturbed by the sight.

As if they had noticed nothing both raptor pilots moved around the room, going through their lockers, and talking. “There’s a hot triad game going on in the mess,” Helo told them.

“I know,” Starbuck replied tossing some cards at Apollo. They were clearly already involved in a game of their own.

“You guys want to come down,” Boomer asked, bag of candy in hand.

Apollo looked to Starbuck whose face split with a wide grin. She took one more glance at her hand, then up her partner and shook her head in the negative. “Thanks guys but I think we’re fine where we are.”

As Helo and Boomer made their exit, Helo spared a last glance at his friend, she winked at him, and he smiled, closing the hatch behind him.

Starbuck and Apollo continued with their hand until she slammed her cards down on the table, “Full colors!” He groaned, “Looks like you lost your shirt, Apollo,” she leered, “literally.”

He yanked the double tanks over his head, “I think you’re cheating.”

“I don’t need to cheat,” she replied.

“Yeah,” he grumbled in return.

“Don’t take it so hard,” she commented, leaning across the table and into his personal space. Apollo stayed motionless, mesmerized by the flicker of heat in her eyes.

“Are you going to deal another hand so I can try to even things out?” he asked.

Starbuck just shook her head and reached out for his dog tags, Apollo smiled and attempted to slap her hand away. She was having none of it and grabbing onto the two metal discs she drew him in close.

The kiss was bruising. Neither noticed when the deck of cards slipped onto the floor. But as Colonel Tigh wrenched the hatch open, sputtering and shouting about his wife he paused, mouth falling open, eyes darting over exposed flesh, ears assaulted by panting. He quickly slammed the hatch closed behind him, groaned and took a deep pull from his flask.

2nd a/n: if you enjoyed this story check out rock n' roll high school with the ramones.


Posted by: drollicaeipathy (drollicaeipathy)
Posted at: May 2nd, 2007 07:29 pm (UTC)
KaraLee NearFrak

i LOVE the ramones. and i figure starbuck would have loved them - or their caprica dopplegangers and it we can have bob dylan in bsg? why not the ramones, right?

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