Listening to Jealousy
by ALC Punk!

He doesn't turn to answer Helo, because if he does, he's afraid he'll simply kill the other man.

"Strawberries and peanut butter and rain."

Maybe death would be too good. Galen doubts the other man has any idea what he's saying. Starbuck loaded him up with ambrosia earlier in the evening before disappearing with Gaeta (lucky Lieutenant). Hopefully, she'll stop giving everyone that wild-eyed look she always gets when she hasn't had a good frak in a while. The Captain might end up giving her dressing-down again, but the deck crew are used to that.

"And her smile..."

"You're drunk, Helo," Dualla says, her own voice slurred with something that might have been mockery. "Give it a rest, love-sick boy. She was a frakking Cylon."

Galen tries to remember how he got dragged into this Triad game, and can't, and thinks Starbuck gave him too much ambrosia, too.

"She was still a hot piece of ass," HotDog announces, making a crude gesture with the lollipop he won off the ECO earlier that evening. "I wouldn't have minded--"

Dualla interrupts him by punching his shoulder. "You can shut up, too."

"Better shut up," Sparky says with a smirk from across the table (he's been leering at Dee all night), "There's ladies present."

Kat glares at him, "Where? Unless you mean you."

"Ooo, sassy. I like that in a woman."

Galen tunes them out again, because Agathon has shifted and is staring at him. He doesn't remember turning around to face the Lieutenant.

"She tasted like rain?" He hates himself for asking. He hasn't felt rain for nearly a year, now. Too much time spent on the hangar deck before the Cylons. And after, well... Space has rain, but not the kind you'll survive.

"And strawberries." Agathon shifts. "And peanut butter--except the smell made her sick and she puked... I knew then, you know."

"Your child."

"No." A crack of laughter, and Galen realizes the other man is almost sober. "Not mine. Too early for it to be mine. I thought it was yours."

There's nothing he can say to that without tearing himself into pieces. And he's needed. There would be no time for Cally and the rest to pick him up and put him back together. Galactica needs him whole and solid, moving without stopping. So he turns to Dualla, "Thinks for the game."

"Hey, Chief," her hand touches his and her eyes flick to Helo. "You take care of yourself."

"Yeah." He stands, ignoring the room's gentle sway. "Night all."

There's a chorus of goodbyes and nights, HotDog makes an inappropriate gesture and Kat punches him, this time. Tyrol shakes his head and steps through the hatch, dodging the incoming CAG. "Sorry, sir."

"No worries, Chief." The boy's (man's, but he's still too young) eyes flick over the assembly, and something shifts in his stance. "You have a good night."

Galen hesitates for just a moment, uncertain what to say. Then Helo's voice distracts him. "Now, Starbuck, she always tastes like chocolate and ambrosia."

Captain Adama stiffens.

"Sir?" Galen's hand wants to ball into a fist and sink into Helo's face. But he doesn't let it.

"Chief?"

For a moment, the two share a glance. Galen's not sure whether the other man understands what he's trying to convey. "She left with Gaeta, sir." Better he find out now than later. At least, he convinces himself that he'd want to know.

"Oh."

Perhaps the Captain didn't want to know.

"Ambrosia, and her stogies--and, oh my LORDS what that woman can do with her tongue. WHOO!"

HotDog is encouraging Helo, throwing cubits and pieces of flotsam at him, "Tell us more."

"Don't tell us," Dee interrupts, "We don't need to live vicariously through you, Helo."

"I do," HotDog objects.

Kat punches him again, "You want living, honey?"

"Sure, if it's you, naked."

"In your dreams, idiot." She punches him again, then glances at Helo. "You done with the reminiscing, or do I have to hit you, too?"

"I'd pay to see that," Dualla says, tossing down a pair of socks.

"Hey! When did this become beat up on Helo hour?"

"When you decided to be an ass."

Galen looks at the CAG. "You should hit your rack, sir."

There's a tension in the younger man's shoulders, but he nods. Once. "Good night, Chief."

He considers staying. Just a little bit longer and maybe they'll have hit Helo. But he decides it's a sick fantasy, nods once at Dualla, and heads through the hatch.

After all, he has better things to do with his time. And they don't include dreams and memories of how she tastes.

-f-

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© 2005 ALC Punk!