Many, many thanks to my beta reader, Melissa. This would not have been half
so good, nor half so consistent had she not read and reread and commented.
Thanks, Melissa!

If you have not read Found! you'll have some problems figuring out who's
already done what to whom. "Lost!" takes place 21 yahrens after the series
ended and assumes Our Boys were captured by the evil Baltar and held for 20
yahrens. Their rescue and immediate adventures are told in "Found!". A
yahren after their rescue, the major players and their positions are:

Apollo: Commander of the Galactica and the Fleet
Troy (Boxey): Commander of the Warriors
Boomer: Colonel, second in command to Apollo on the Bridge
Dillon (yeah, Dillon from G-80, but he's not so bad): Captain, Strike Force
Leader reporting to Troy
Starbuck: Colonel, Strike Force Leader reporting to Apollo
Baltar: Imprisoned on the Prison Barge
Casseiopeia:Trying to make things work with Starbuck
Sheba: Trying to make things work with Apollo
Athena: Widow of Bojay (I told ya, ya need to read "Found!"), with kids
Jenny: Sealed to Boomer with a shipload of kids
Hera (from G-80): Sealed to ??, with kids

Clear as mud? Thought so. Well, on to the story anyway ....

The following symbols are used:

"xxx" - Something said out loud.
'xxx' - Something thought (silently).
//xxx// - a memory or flashback, happening in someone's head, not shared
aloud.

                                   Lost!
                       by rita (mommacita1@juno.com)

"It's okay, Starbuck. Really, it is," Cass tried to soothe her beloved, as
she knelt behind him on the bed and massaged his shoulders.

"No, Cass, it really isn't." Starbuck, shirtless, sat hunched on the side
of the bed, head in hands. "But after almost a yahren, I guess . . . I
guess this is the way it's gonna be."

"We can keep trying. I'll look in some of my books -"

Starbuck turned to face her and grasped her arms in his hands. "Cass, I'm
sure you were a fantastic socialator. And I know you're a first-class med
tech. But some things can't be fixed." He paused, then continued in a
softer, choked voice. "I guess when Baltar messed with my body, he messed
with my mind, too." To himself he continued, 'To say nothing of what the
Cylons did.' He caught himself and warned 'Don't go there, Bucko, don't
ever go there.' He looked up at Cass with tears in his eyes that matched
the ones in hers. "You have no idea how grateful I am for all you've done."

"I love you, Starbuck. Sex doesn't matter."

"I love you, too. But sex *does* matter." He gave a short laugh. "And if it
matters to me, how much more must it matter to you? Besides," he said
brusquely, "I know you want a family and a stable home environment. You've
always known you couldn't have stability with me. And now we both know
there's not much chance of a family either. You deserve a full life, being
loved in all ways possible. And I just plain can't give that to you. We've
got to let go of each other, Cass. I've got to learn to live in the real
world, not keep hoping for - for a miracle from the Gods. And you've got to
be open for the right man for you - 'cause he'll be along, I know he will."

"Starbuck, don't say -" Cass was interrupted by Starbuck's buzzing call
signal.

"Gotta run." He pulled on his shirt and grasped her in a hug. Releasing her
slightly, he kissed her gently on the lips. Softly, he whispered, "We've
been over this all before. It's not fair - but it's not getting better, or
even different. Don't fight it, Cass. It's time to move on."

***

In another bedroom on the Galactica, another couple were having a similar
conversation.

"Frak!" Apollo swung off the bed and sat, head in hands, glaring at the
floor.

"Look, Apollo, this isn't the end of the world. With all the stress you're
under taking over command ..."

"Felgercarb! That excuse was good a yahren ago, Sheba, not now! And a
yahren ago, I didn't have any problem showing you how I feel about you."
Sheba tried to hide her smile and failed. "All right," Apollo conceded.
"But I didn't have any *more* problems showing you than 20 yahrens before -
and it had nothing to do with my physical capabilities."

Sheba knelt in front of him to force him to meet her eyes. "This doesn't
have to do with your 'physical capabilities' either, Apollo. I know you
went to see Salik - what did he say?."

"I'm fine and there's no reason for it," Apollo growled. "He also said
Starbuck does have some physical problems that could limit him, but I
don't. And if Starbuck thinks *his* problems are in his head, where else
could mine be?"

"In Starbuck's head? Hmm, now there's a thought." Apollo made a face.
"Okay, sorry, but seriously, I think that is the problem. You want to fix
Starbuck's head - or body - or both." Sheba paused watching the flush that
rose in Apollo's cheeks. "No," she said slowly. "You don't want to *fix*
his body. You *want* his body. Maybe his mind, too? Now, why doesn't that
infuriate me?" Sheba shrugged. "Well, it doesn't - be grateful," she
instructed Apollo.

"I love *you*, Sheba. But Starbuck, he needs to be loved, and who can he
trust? He's so ashamed of what Baltar did to him. He's okay most of the
time now. He knows he's needed and that his friends aren't going to turn
away. But sometimes, I can see it in his face, sometimes that's not
enough."

"You love Starbuck," Sheba said softly. Raising a finger to shut off his
protest, she continued, "It doesn't mean you don't love me. Just as I love
you. We waited for each other for 20 yahrens, building a - a fantasy
relationship. Hell, Apollo, we weren't sure enough of ourselves to risk
falling in love back then, if you think about it. But, separated, we
convinced ourselves we were." She laughed. "Maybe I've been hiding behind
your memory all this time!" More quietly, she said, "And maybe you've been
using my memory as something to come home to - or an alternative to
Starbuck."

"No, no, that can't be - maybe I did fantasize and exaggerate what we had;
maybe you *were* my hope, what kept me going. But you've never been a
substitute for Starbuck. I knew what was going on. I couldn't approach
him."

"Exactly," Sheba said, straightening up to kiss him. "And what you need to
do now is think about what you really want. I'll wait. Not forever, but
I'll wait." She smiled sadly, "I can't think of anyone more deserving of
your love than Starbuck, to be honest. But you need to sort it out for
yourself."

Just then the comm called Apollo to the bridge.

***

Starbuck ran onto the bridge to see Apollo and Boomer looking grim. Troy
and Dillon came in immediately afterward. 'They're together even more often
than Apollo and I used to be,' Starbuck thought idly. 'Don't they have
lives? Oh, well, none of my business. Wonder if Apollo even notices?' Aloud
he said, "What's up, Commander?"

Apollo signaled the new arrivals to step closer to his hooded viewer.
Quickly, he keyed in the commands that brought up the last message he
received. Commander Croft appeared on the viewer. "Emergency!" he gasped.
"There's been a riot on the prison barge. We've been overrun. Send help!"
Laser fire sounded and Croft stiffened in pain. "Send help quickly!" He
slumped over and a hand reached over him to shut off the commline. The
screen went blank.

Apollo turned to face his four advisors. "What do you think?"

Troy was the first to respond. "I doubt it's faked."

Boomer nodded. "We verified. It's real. There's no response to our hails
from the barge, either."

"We could send in a security battalion," Troy suggested. Dillon and
Starbuck both snorted. Apollo frowned at them.

"C'mon, Apollo. Unless security's made up of people other than warrior
rejects these days, that'd be a suicide run."

"It's not," Boomer replied to Starbuck. "He's right, Commanders," he
addressed Apollo and Troy at the same time.

"So what do we do?" Troy asked. "We can't just let those criminals get away
with one of our ships."

"Especially since one of the 'criminals' is Count Baltar," Apollo reminded
him. "No, we can't."

Starbuck flinched at the sudden mention of his tormentor's name. He covered
it by suggesting, "phalanx of warriors?"

Apollo nodded. "I don't see any other way. With your concurrence,
Commander," he added to his son.

"Of course, no question."

"Good. Starbuck, you and Dillon each pick five warriors. I'll have two
armed and armored shuttles waiting in the bay." Both men saluted and ran
out, already going over in their minds who to take with them.

"May the Lords of Kobol be with you," murmured Troy.

Apollo looked startled. "Where did *that* come from?" he demanded.

Troy looked wistful. "Did you recognize it? That's what Grandfather always
said when you went out on a hopeless mission."

Apollo smiled faintly and nodded. Turning to Boomer, he said, "I'll be in
my quarters," and left the bridge.

Arriving back in his quarters, he discovered Sheba had left a one-word
note. 'Think!' it read. And so he did. He thought back over the yahrens to
when he first met the quirky orphan boy who became his best friend. He
thought about the way Starbuck took what he dished out no matter how unfair
he was. Oh, he'd give him lip - publicly, embarrassingly, but he took it -
he never walked away.

He thought about how Starbuck was always there for him. For how many
yahrens had Starbuck's friendly touch been able to soothe him in a way no
one else's could? When had Starbuck become his unobtrusive protector -
stepping back out of the way until he was needed, but always there? Long
before he'd followed Apollo's captors into that baseship, Starbuck had
started placing himself between danger and Apollo. He'd offered his life
for Apollo's to the superior beings in the ship of light, Sheba had told
him. How many other times had he done the same thing, without Apollo even
realizing it. His facade of being a loud, womanizing, gambling, hotshot
rarely slipped, even for Apollo. But it hid almost all of the things he did
quietly to help others. Apollo thought he'd seen through Starbuck's mask,
but now he wasn't so sure.

Was it love, or gratitude, or the need to reciprocate that moved Apollo
towards something more than friendship now? He tried to be brutally honest
with himself. He remembered how good it felt to have Starbuck near him. He
remembered how he would lean into Starbuck's arm around his shoulder. How
he'd complain about muscle aches so that Starbuck would cheerfully
volunteer a backrub. 'Gods!' he thought. 'I'm getting hard just thinking
about him! And I want him to understand - ' Apollo started, shocked at his
own thoughts. Slowly he said to himself, 'No. I want to be the one that
makes him understand - that the love of another man is not shameful. That
love can - *should* be without pain. O, Lords! I *do* love him and want
him!' In a hushed voice, he said out loud, "And I think I always have."

***

It seemed like an easy job. 'Too easy,' thought Starbuck. "Let's do a
bulkhead-to-bulkhead search. Make sure we've gotten everybody back where
they belong. Two warriors per cell block and keep each other in view at all
times."

"Take it easy, Colonel," one of the young men Dillon had selected said
laughingly, "We've got them trapped."

"Maybe," Starbuck cautioned, "But don't get overconfident. Check every
alcove and storage area, and don't skip any crates or cupboards that could
hold a man or even come close."

"They're not overconfident, Starbuck," Dillon soothed. "They'll do the job
right." More loudly he said, "Okay, you heard the Colonel, move out in
pairs." He turned back to Starbuck. "May I have the honor of this dance,
Colonel?" Starbuck had to smile at this. Drawing his pistol, he gestured
Dillon ahead of him.

Dillon checked right and left while Starbuck kept watch and guarded his
back. Dillon passed a dusty alcove with a cursory glance and moved on to
the next set of cells. Starbuck followed him, glancing up as well as
behind, as he went. Immediately after he passed the alcove, came the
familiar voice, "Well, hello, little whore."

Starbuck faltered for just a micron, but it was enough for his assailant
and former captor to grab him in a choke hold and take his pistol. By the
time Dillon came out to investigate the sounds of the scuffle, Baltar had
the pistol pointed at Starbuck's head. "Shoot," Starbuck yelled, attempting
to kick backwards to loosen Baltar's hold on him.

Dillon hesitated. If he shot, he might hit Starbuck. And if he hit Baltar,
reflex might cause him to press the trigger on the pistol, killing
Starbuck. While he hesitated, Baltar, tired of restraining Starbuck, hit
him on the temple with the barrel of the pistol and pointed the pistol at
Dillon. "Drop the weapon and kick it over here, please," he said.

Dillon did as Baltar ordered. Two Nomen appeared behind him, each with two
unconscious warriors. Another two came out of the shadows behind Baltar.
Baltar shoved Starbuck's limp body at one of them. "Take him to the command
center." He stepped towards Dillon and grabbed him by one arm, thrusting
him at the remaining Nomen behind him. "Take him, too." The second Nomen
followed the first to the command center. "Set the others free and have
them help round up the other warriors. I want them all alive. Put them in
one shuttle and seal it from the outside. Then escort our guards and warden
to the other shuttle and do the same." The remaining Nomen nodded their
understanding and left to carry out Baltar's orders.

***

In the command center, Baltar dismissed the two Nomen standing guard over
Dillon and the barely conscious Starbuck. Baltar lounged in the command
chair while Dillon stood, bound to a column in the center of the room, and
glowered. As he noticed Starbuck becoming aware of his surroundings, Baltar
rose and walked in an admiring circle around Dillon. "You know, little
whore," he addressed Starbuck, who shook his head to clear it and propped
himself up on his elbows, "this one is very pretty. And he's yahrens
younger than you. Perhaps it's time for a change. What do you think?"

Starbuck's only answer was a low growl. Baltar laughed. "What do you want,
Baltar?" Starbuck demanded, sitting up fully, not quite ready to get to his
feet.

Baltar sauntered over to him, thrusting his crotch in Starbuck's face. "You
know what I want, little whore. The only question is whether I get it from
him or you." Starbuck reddened, but made no reply.

Baltar walked back to Dillon and began stroking his chest through his
uniform, moving further down his body with each stroke. His eyes never left
Starbuck. Dillon squirmed and pulled against his bonds in an effort to
escape the unwanted intimacy.

"Leave him alone, Baltar," Starbuck snarled.

"Jealous?" Baltar inquired sweetly. "Does this mean you'll give me what I
want?"

"Set him free."

"All right. I'll agree to that. I'll set him free *after* you show him how
well you perform." He turned to Dillon. "You wouldn't already know, would
you?" At Dillon's glare, Baltar nodded. "I thought not. Well, Starbuck?"

Almost inaudibly Starbuck replied, "All right." He stood shakily and
approached the pair.

"Don't do it, Starbuck. It's a trick. He's not going to set me free."

Before Baltar could answer, Starbuck turned to Dillon. "Actually, I think
he will. In my - experience, he always keeps his promises - eventually."
Starbuck looked at Baltar, who nodded. Turning back to Dillon, Starbuck met
his eyes. Dillon shuddered. Starbuck's eyes held no emotion at all, not
fear, not anger, nothing. They were the eyes of a dead man. Starbuck looked
away and continued, matter-of-factly, "Besides, he doesn't need two of us.
He needs one hostage. And one pilot?" he turned in query to Baltar, who
grinned.

"Very good, little whore. And who better than my own private warrior?" Then
his voice turned cold. "But we don't have a lot of time here. If you're
stalling, you'll soon be dead, and this young one," he patted Dillon's
cheek, "will learn how to serve."

"I said I'd do it!" Starbuck retorted angrily. Baltar didn't move. Starbuck
knelt in front of him, sparing one despairing glance for Dillon. Dillon
resolutely closed his eyes in answer to the unspoken plea.

"We'll make this easy, but I will deal with your insolence later," Baltar
announced. Starbuck nodded. "You may perform on me orally." Starbuck
breathed a sigh of relief. Humiliating as this was, it was the least that
Baltar could have demanded. "Strip first, of course," Baltar concluded.

'Of course,' Starbuck echoed silently. He eased back and onto his feet to
obey. He watched Baltar's erection press against his pants as his captor
watched him disrobe. Naked, Starbuck resumed his kneeling position in front
of Baltar. He looked up for permission to continue and received a curt nod.
He opened Baltar's pants and prepared to take his engorged organ into his
mouth when he was distracted by a movement in his peripheral vision. Baltar
had reached out and was fondling Dillon with one hand. "No!" he cried,
striking Baltar's hand away.

To Starbuck's surprise, Baltar didn't strike him. Instead he just laughed
and grasped Starbuck by the hair, forcing his mouth over his erection.
Starbuck performed as he had for 20 yahrens. The one yahren of freedom was
gone from his mind. Sucking, licking, nipping, he pleasured Baltar at the
cost of his own self worth. A muted gasp beside him told him Dillon had not
been able to keep his eyes closed. He shrugged mentally. It didn't really
matter anymore. He'd done what he had to once again.

Baltar climaxed and Starbuck cleaned him thoroughly. Then Baltar pushed him
roughly onto his back and scrutinized him. "I thought so!" he crowed.

Starbuck became aware of his own erection. What a yahren of Cass's loving
ministrations had been unable to achieve, Baltar's degradation had
accomplished in less than five minutes. Baltar rearranged his clothing and
approached Dillon. As he freed him, he nodded at the supine Starbuck and
remarked, "You see? He really enjoys this, despite his protests. Be sure
you tell his dear Commander that, too." He laughed. "I'll escort you to the
shuttle now. When you get back to the Galactica, tell Apollo to call me."
He kicked negligently at Starbuck as he passed. "Don't move, little whore.
Oh, and don't touch yourself either." Still laughing, he exited, not
bothering to seal Starbuck in or post a guard.

***

"Galactica to prison barge. Come in prison barge."

The pilot, standing at the controls, looked back at the command chair. The
occupant of the chair nodded. The pilot leaned forward and keyed in a
command. "Go ahead Galactica," he replied.

A fuzzy image appeared on the front viewer. Slowly it cleared to show
Colonel Boomer. He squinted at his viewer. "Starbuck?" he asked, surprised
at the image on the viewer.

Before the pilot could answer, Baltar pushed past him into viewing range.
"My message was for Commander Apollo to call. This communication is over."
He pounded in the command, then turned to the pilot, who had remained where
he had been shoved. The naked man took a single step back at the fierce
glare directed at him. "He'll pay for this insult!" Baltar snarled. He
reached for his laser whip.

Calmly, Starbuck asked, "If you whip me unconscious, who'll pilot the
barge?"

Baltar barely contained himself. He'd have to think of some other way to
punish Apollo. He looked at his prisoner's bruised body. Too bruised to
sit, he stood at the controls, almost casually making the minor course
corrections necessary to keep the prison barge in line with the fleet.

Within five centons, the call was repeated, "Galactica to prison barge Come
in prison barge," and the scene replayed, this time with Apollo displayed
on the viewer. Apollo, warned by Boomer, did not react to Starbuck's
presence.. Calmly, he asked, "Are you all right, Starbuck?"

"I'm fine, Commander," Starbuck answered formally.

"I'm glad to hear that, Colonel," Apollo returned in kind, understanding
that they were being monitored. "We received a message to contact you."

"Yes, sir." Starbuck looked back at Baltar, who nodded for him to continue.
"We - we will be leaving the fleet and re - require supplies for our
journey," Starbuck stammered. "Sending supply list now." He pressed the
appropriate keys.

"Receipt of message packet acknowledged," Boomer's voice came from
off-viewer.

Apollo ignored it. "We cannot allow you to leave the fleet. Nor could we
spare all the resources requested. Our supplies for the fleet are too low.
A revised list of your minimum requirements will be considered."

"I'm sorry," Starbuck said sincerely, meaning it on several levels. "That
decision isn't mine to make." A snarl from behind him made him cringe. That
wasn't in the script Baltar had wanted.

Apollo raised a polite eyebrow. "Perhaps I should speak to the person whose
decision it *is*. Is that person available?"

Knowing he would pay for it later, and in full realization that Apollo
would see his current state, Starbuck replied, "Yes, sir," and quickly
keyed the transmitter for wide display.

Starbuck looked down and flushed. Apollo, having seen Starbuck in this
condition too many times over the past 21 yahrens, did not react to his
appearance. Instead he addressed Baltar, now clearly visible on his viewer.
Much to Starbuck's and Baltar's surprise, he did not refer to his previous
statements at all. "Baltar," Apollo said evenly, "You have something of
mine. I want it back."

'Of course,' Starbuck thought, 'the barge. He's willing to bargain for it.'

"Do I?" Baltar replied smoothly, thinking the same. "And do you have
something to offer in return? Perhaps something smaller and faster would be
an acceptable trade."

A small smile played over Apollo's lips. "I think we need to negotiate in
private." He glanced around behind him as though not trusting those on the
bridge. "I will come over alone under flag of truce. Is that acceptable?"

"Quite, Commander. I will guarantee your safety."

"And freedom to leave at will?"

Baltar sighed. "Yes, yes," he replied impatiently. "And freedom to leave at
will."

***

Apollo had Dillon tell him exactly what happened on the prison barge. Then
he threatened to confine him to quarters if he didn't stop insisting on
accompanying Apollo back. Troy put his arm around Dillon's shoulders and
led him away, reassuring Apollo he would keep Dillon on the Galactica.

As they walked away, Apollo heard Dillon say to Troy, "It was horrible.
There was no love there. How could Starbuck do that without love?"

"There was love," Troy replied softly. "Starbuck's love for you. That's why
he did it."

Dillon shook his head. "He would have done it for anyone of us warriors."

"True. That's the way Starbuck is. He loves everyone except himself. Come
on, now, let's get you relaxed."

Apollo and Boomer exchanged glances and shrugs. Love doesn't distinguish
between genders, it blossoms where it wants to, as they both knew. Boomer
turned back to the rescue attempt. Something in Dillon's recount had struck
ice into the core of his being. He recognized it from Starbuck's debrief a
yahren ago and wanted to make sure Apollo knew what it meant. Aloud he
said, "Little whore. Apollo, I don't think Baltar's just using Starbuck as
a hostage or a pilot."

"I know," Apollo breathed the words out on a sigh. "I know Baltar raped
him. He's claiming ownership. I've got to get him out of there."

***

All the way over in the shuttle, Apollo tried to think of alternatives. He
had Wilkes' latest invention - a self-piloting module, voice activated. It
was one of a kind, but no one had questioned his taking it to offer in
exchange for Starbuck - also one of a kind. Wilkes could always build
another, probably make it better at that.

But in his heart, Apollo knew Baltar wouldn't give Starbuck up until he was
dead - physically or psychologically. Baltar had never forgiven Starbuck
for getting away from him twice, now three times. No, Baltar would have to
be tricked into it. 'Little whore.' The words reverberated in his mind
although he had never heard Baltar say them. Obviously, Starbuck had. Even
more obviously, from the reaction Dillon described, Starbuck believed those
words. "I love you, Starbuck," Apollo whispered into the silence of the
shuttle. "I've loved you for a long time. Now I'm going to have to show
you. And I hope to God you understand what I'm doing."

***

Apollo strode onto the bridge of the prison barge a scant centare later,
having outdistanced his Nomen "escort" easily. Before Baltar could order
it, he undid his holster, pistol still within. Negligently, he tossed it
under the console. He glanced at Starbuck working the controls, the welts
and burns of the laser whip clearly evident on his back and buttocks, some
still oozing blood. He addressed Baltar. "Have your pilot pull out of line
and come to full stop."

Starbuck looked back at Baltar. "Do it," Baltar responded, waving a hand
languidly. "So, Commander," Baltar continued, "what do we have to negotiate
about?"

Apollo moved around behind Baltar, who stood and faced him, with his back
to the viewscreen. As Starbuck maneuvered the barge out of the fleet
lineup, numerous armed ships surrounded it. Starbuck made no mention of
this to his erstwhile master, but changed the viewscreen to display a view
of a clear star field sent earlier by the Galactica, piggybacked on
Apollo's message. Apollo continued his slow circuit of the bridge, stopping
when he was between Starbuck and Baltar. He put a hand on Starbuck's
shoulder, eliciting a wince and cringe, then faced Baltar again, without
losing physical contact with Starbuck. "As I said, you have something that
belongs to me. I want it back. I'm willing to offer a trade."

"A smaller ship? That might be feasible, since we really don't need all
this space. But in place of the space, I'd need some other feature - say
increased speed or maneuverability."

"I'm not discussing the ship." Starbuck turned under Apollo's hand to look
at him in surprise.

Baltar furrowed his brow in confusion. "The supplies? I don't have anything
else of yours."

"Not the supplies."

Apollo's even tone grated on Baltar. "Well, what then?" he exploded, tiring
of the game under Apollo's control.

Apollo smiled and pulled Starbuck close, disregarding the stiffening of his
friend's body. "The pilot. He's mine. I won't allow him to leave the
fleet." Under his arm, Starbuck shivered at the implications in that
statement.

Baltar was equally nonplused. "The pilot," he echoed. Recovering, he
inquired, "What do you offer in trade?"

"This." Apollo unclipped a module from his belt and held it out.

Starbuck glanced down at it and then back at his Commander with disbelief.
"No! That's Wilker's latest technology. You can't give that to him!"

Apollo stroked his arm. "I can't give *you* to him. We can replace
technology."

Having heard this last exchange, Baltar darted forward and seized the
module. Then he looked at Apollo. "You are free to go now, as we agreed.
Starbuck will not serve as pilot. You have my word."

"Come on, Starbuck." Apollo started for the door.

Baltar pulled Starbuck out of Apollo's light grip. "I'm afraid you didn't
understand the terms of the agreement, Commander," he leered. "Starbuck
will not pilot the ship, but I did not say he could leave. He has other -
duties - to fulfill, don't you little whore?"

Starbuck looked down, flushing, but did not reply. Baltar jerked his head
up by the hair. "I said 'don't you, little whore?' You *will* answer me!"

"Yes," came the faint reply.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir, I perform other services for you."

Apollo watched the exchange dispassionately. "Starbuck is mine. You cannot
have him," he repeated.

"Oh, I think I have the prior claim," Baltar demurred.

"I doubt it." Starbuck looked back at his friend in surprise. Apollo
ignored him. "Captain Dillon told me what he was forced to witness." Before
Baltar could reply, he continued, "And I know what I saw for 20 yahrens."
Starbuck sagged and Apollo hurriedly continued, "I may not have witnessed
the acts, but I saw the results."

"Yet you continue to claim him as yours? For 20 yahrens I saw what he
*didn't* do for you."

"I would not allow him to further damage himself."

"Do you feel he's too damaged to use now?" Baltar inquired, seeking to trap
Apollo in his lie.

Apollo had stepped close. Starbuck stood between the two men, held upright
by Baltar's hand in his hair. Apollo pulled him from Baltar and turned him
around, apparently appraising his injuries. Holding Starbuck by the
forearms, Apollo answered Baltar. "No."

"Then prove your prior claim."

"Very well. Starbuck." Apollo gestured in front of him. With a look of loss
beyond anything Apollo had imagined, and one he would never forget,
Starbuck knelt before him and began undoing his leggings. Apollo spread his
legs to a more sturdy stance and placed his hands on Starbuck's shoulders
for balance as his best friend began to skillfully tease him to arousal. As
Starbuck began to suck in earnest, Apollo gently stroked his head with one
hand.

Baltar watched the performance with unadulterated surprise and lust. When
Apollo, nearing climax from Starbuck's experienced ministrations, threw his
head back and closed his eyes, Baltar moved in behind Starbuck. In one
quick motion, he entered Starbuck.

Feeling the tearing invasion, Starbuck sobbed around Apollo's hard member,
but didn't interrupt his rhythm. As both men climaxed, Starbuck braced
himself on hands and knees to hear their weight. Tears falling, he
thoroughly cleaned his best friend and tucked him back into his uniform
before turning to perform the same service for Baltar.

"No!" Apollo's command stopped Starbuck. He looked back over his shoulder
at Apollo, but Apollo's gaze was focused on Baltar. "He is mine!" Apollo
repeated.

Baltar picked Starbuck up by one arm and tossed him across the room.
Starbuck hit the edge of the console and crumpled. "He serves anyone - like
a cheap street seller. He's used up." Baltar stepped closer to Apollo. "But
you," he murmured, stroking down Apollo's arms to his trim hips. "I would
guess you're hardly used at all." Apollo struggled, but Baltar had pinned
his arms as he leaned in for a brutally obscene kiss.

Suddenly the sound of a laser pistol on kill filled the room. Baltar only
had time to look astonished before he fell at Apollo's feet as Apollo
stepped out of his grasp. Starbuck wielded the pistol two-handed, his body
shaking too hard to manage with one hand. Keeping the pistol aimed at
Baltar's body, he approached, still firing, until he was standing over his
tormentor. He didn't release the trigger until the pistol's charge was
gone.

Apollo took the pistol from his friend's hands. "Come," he said quietly,
and led Starbuck to the door. Unopposed, since Baltar had instructed his
Nomen guards not to stop Apollo from leaving, they quickly reached the
landing bay and the shuttle.

"Let's get out of here before they realize what's happened," Apollo said.
"Can you help me launch?"

Starbuck nodded and moved to the copilot's position. He moved the chair out
of the way and worked the controls standing, bracing himself against the
console as they launched. Once they were safely beyond the sphere of vipers
and armed shuttles, those closed in on the prison barge, firing from all
sides.

Apollo set course for the Galactica and turned to find Starbuck kneeling
next to his chair, head down. Apollo cleared his throat, not knowing what
he could say to ease his friend's pain. "Starbuck," he began, then stopped
when Starbuck turned an expressionless face up to him, clearly awaiting his
next order. 'Baltar couldn't destroy him, but Lords help me, I may have,'
Apollo thought. Starbuck remained still, waiting. "There's a fresh uniform
in the back. Why don't you go and get dressed."

Starbuck rose, stumbling slightly as he did so, and headed toward the rear
of the shuttle. Apollo, reminded of his friend's injuries, called after
him, "Wait. Do you need help?" Starbuck shook his head no.

Dressing was painful, but Starbuck was grateful Apollo had not left him
naked. He returned to Apollo's side once he was dressed, unsure of what to
do next.

"Starbuck, are you all right?" Apollo worried that Baltar had injured him
more severely than was immediately apparent.

Starbuck managed a response. "Sore, that's all. It will pass."

"We'll go straight to Life Station as soon as we land. Why don't you sit
and rest until we're cleared to land?"

With a sigh, Starbuck nodded and turned to the chair he had pushed aside.
With some difficulty, he forced himself to sit, unable to suppress a moan
as pain radiated from his torn rectum through his body. Hearing the moan,
Apollo turned from the controls and saw Starbuck's white face and tightly
compressed lips. "Dear God, I forgot!" he said. "Why didn't you say
something?"

Starbuck shrugged, then grimaced in pain and briefly closed his eyes. "I -
I wasn't sure you didn't want -"

Apollo was next to him in an instant. "You thought I wanted you to be in
pain?"

"No, no. I know you wouldn't do that." Starbuck shook his head, his hands
clamped on the arms of the chair. "It's just - I - I don't know what you -
what you do want now."

Apollo knew what Starbuck was trying to say and wasn't ready to deal with
that yet. Instead he turned to making Starbuck more comfortable. "Can you
lay on your stomach?" Starbuck started, then realized the implication
wasn't there. He nodded. Apollo quickly made as soft a bed as he could out
of cushions and emergency blankets and gently helped Starbuck down onto it.
He squatted next to the injured warrior until his breathing eased and his
eyes drifted shut. Then, after uttering a short prayer that this was the
worst it would get, he rose and returned to navigating towards the
Galactica.

***

Apollo led Starbuck directly to Life Station, the look in his eyes
preventing any attempt at interruption or interference. Boomer was the only
one who got close enough to Starbuck to see his face before Apollo turned
him away with a glance. He shuddered at the lifeless eyes and
expressionless face.

In Life Station, Dr. Salik directed Starbuck to lie prone on an examining
table in a private alcove. Apollo stood against the door, watching
silently. "Do you want him to leave?" Salik asked Starbuck, thinking to
save him from embarrassment.

Starbuck shrugged. "It's his decision," he answered in a flat voice.

Salik looked up, startled at the response. His glance went from Starbuck's
blank face to Apollo's anxious one. "Is there something I need to know?" he
asked.

"I - " Apollo began, but he was cut off by Starbuck.

"No," Starbuck said firmly. "There's nothing examining me won't tell you.
It's just up to the Commander whether he stays or not."

His injuries were painful, but not serious. Salik ordered him off-duty for
the next five cycles and to get some rest. Except for his brief sleep from
exhaustion in the shuttle, Starbuck had not slept in at least 30 centares.
Apollo saw him to his quarters, staying until he was sure his friend was
soundly asleep.

***

After three cycles, Starbuck had caught up on his sleep and was not in
enough pain to take the medication Salik had prescribed. This left him
alert enough to think, something he found he really didn't want to do. He
sighed. He had no choice - his mind circled around the same subject no
matter what he tried to focus on.

Apollo and Baltar had fought - over him. Apollo had won. Starbuck would
have liked to give himself some credit, but he couldn't. He didn't just go
along with Apollo's act - he had wanted to have Apollo for as long as he
could remember. If this was the only way, so be it. At least he would serve
someone he loved instead of hated. And he also couldn't claim credit for
making good their escape by killing Baltar. Something had snapped in him
when Baltar touched Apollo. He reacted out of twenty yahrens worth of
stored up rage.

Starbuck knew, with a deep conviction born of intimate experience with
Baltar, that Apollo had chosen the only way to get him back. He wondered
how Apollo had figured it out, though. Deep humiliation surfaced. Of
course, Apollo knew, probably to the least incident, what Starbuck had done
and had allowed to be done to him. He had only been keeping his knowledge
from Starbuck out of kindness.

Bitter tears sprang to Starbuck's eyes. Boomer was the only other one who
knew. And how Boomer could stand to be on the same Battlestar with him
Starbuck still didn't understand. He could only be grateful. And now
Apollo. If Apollo wanted him at all, Starbuck realized, it could only be
for what Starbuck could do to his body. Apollo had forced himself to be
touched by Starbuck, probably forced his body to respond, in order to save
someone not really worth the effort. Starbuck gave a short laugh, which
echoed in his small, empty room. It sounded as hollow as Starbuck felt.

Apollo hadn't wanted him at all, at least not on the shuttle. Yet he seemed
to care about Starbuck, during and after the flight back to the Galactica.
He was clearly not good enough to even service Apollo. So why did Apollo
care what happened to him? Starbuck shook his head, confused.

But Starbuck knew the rules. Apollo had claimed him, had won him away from
Baltar. Until Apollo sent him away, which he undoubtedly would do sooner or
later, Starbuck would serve and service him. He might as well start now.

***

The door chime sounded, and Apollo, at work at his desk, called "Come,"
then turned back to his notes. Starbuck entered quietly and waited just
inside the door until Apollo looked up. "Starbuck! I was afraid I'd have to
come and get you out of your quarters! How are you feeling?" Apollo smiled,
seeing his friend alert and pain-free.

"I'm fine. Well rested," Starbuck responded. "I thought you'd want me to
come here." That last came out hesitantly, almost a question.

"Of course I do. Come in. Just give me a micron to finish this up."

Starbuck crossed the room and knelt at Apollo's side. When Apollo turned to
see him there, he frowned. "No, Starbuck, I don't want you this way," he
said, more harshly than he meant to.

Starbuck moved back warily, but didn't rise. "Do you want me to take my
clothes off? Or perform for you? I don't know, Commander. I don't know how
you want me." He wasn't sure he should speak. Baltar had certainly wanted
him silent unless he was begging, but this was different. It had to be. He
couldn't bear it if Apollo - he couldn't even think about it. It had to be
different.

Apollo went over to him and pulled him upright, then into a hug. "Oh,
Starbuck, no. I don't want that." Even as he said it, though, his mind went
back to how good Starbuck's mouth had felt on him. His organ stirred at the
memory.

Starbuck felt the push against his own groin, and reached down with one
hand to cup his friend's erection. He looked at Apollo in query as he
gently fondled him. Apollo sighed in pleasure. Sheba, Serina, none of the
women he had been with had known *exactly* how to touch, not like this.
Seeing Apollo's response, Starbuck moved his other hand to join the first,
massaging and teasing through the tight cloth of Apollo's uniform.

Apollo pulled Starbuck away slightly, holding him by the arms so that he
could see his friend's face. "Is this what *you* want, Starbuck?" he asked,
knowing he would soon be unable to call a halt.

'What *I* want?' Starbuck thought. 'When did that ever matter to anyone?'
But he merely replied "If you do."

"That isn't what I asked, Starbuck," Apollo said in a quiet, but firm
voice.

Starbuck backpedaled, hearing menace where there wasn't any. "Please. I - I
can only - I do, but not - " he paused, took a breath then said more
coherently, "If you don't want me, I'll go. But if you do want this, so do
I." As he said it, he heard the truth he hadn't realized.

Apollo nodded. "Go ahead then. Make yourself more comfortable."

Starbuck released Apollo, thinking the Commander wanted him to strip. He
removed his clothes while Apollo sat back on the sofa. When Starbuck
approached again, Apollo reached for him, stroking Starbuck's soft skin,
tracing the faint scars that led to his genitals. Starbuck stood still in
front of him, eyes closed. In imitation of what Starbuck had done to him,
Apollo grasped Starbuck's penis firmly with one hand, while palpating his
testicles with the other. He felt Starbuck hardening in his fist and his
own erection grew harder.

Rising, Apollo pulled Starbuck to him with one hand, freeing his demanding
organ with the other, and rubbed their erections together as he kneaded
Starbuck's buttocks. His penis thrust against Starbuck's in response.
Feeling this, Starbuck stepped out of Apollo's arms, turned and knelt,
offering himself for penetration.

"Starbuck, no, I'll hurt you," Apollo gasped, not sure he would be able to
resist the temptation a second time.

"Not if you don't want to," Starbuck replied, remaining on his knees, but
turning towards Apollo.

"Baltar - " Apollo began, his penis softening at the mere thought of the
foul being.

Starbuck reached for the organ and coaxed it back to full arousal. Still
holding it, he said quietly, "Baltar wanted to hurt me. If you do, too," he
shrugged and attempted a smile, "it's all right. I know how to - to get
through it."

"No!"

Starbuck breathed an inward sigh of relief and soothed Apollo's outrage
with continued ministrations. When Apollo remained silent, Starbuck
prompted, "What would you like?"

Apollo blinked and looked down at the placid man sexually serving him. "I
want you," he said, his voice rough with desire, "but I don't want to hurt
you."

Starbuck wasn't sure where Apollo was leading. If he didn't take pleasure
from Starbuck's pain - and Starbuck was grateful he didn't - he must want
something else from Starbuck. "I could, I could prepare myself," Starbuck
suggested, guessing at what Apollo might want. It was degrading to do that
to himself, but it ensured he would suffer less injury, so he was able to
offer it calmly. He looked up.

Apollo was barely able to speak through the haze of erotic sensation
Starbuck was causing. Prepare himself? Apollo wasn't sure what Starbuck
meant, but apparently he wanted to do that. "All right," Apollo managed to
say. "Go ahead."

Starbuck nodded and pulled once firmly on Apollo's penis, collecting the
pre-cum on his fingers. Then he turned and crawled a little away from
Apollo, so Apollo would have a better view, settling on one hand and both
knees. He reached around and inserted one coated finger into his
anus.rotating it as he pushed inward. His eyes closed as he thrust the
digit in and out. Pulling the first finger out, he crossed it with his
middle finger and inserted both, flattening his hand against his buttocks
to penetrate more deeply. His body responded despite his best efforts to
control it and he gave up the fight. As he removed the two fingers and went
back in with three, he felt Apollo approaching him. Involuntarily, Starbuck
thrust against his fingers as he twisted them as far up his rectum as they
would go.

Apollo circled, watching Starbuck's face, red with effort and arousal; his
penis, pulsing in time to his thrusts; his flanks and back shining with
sweat. Moving to Starbuck's rear, he watched him widen his opening. He
found it unbearable and closed on his friend, violently pulling his fingers
out and thrusting his aching organ in to the scrotum in one motion.

Starbuck gasped at the sudden disruption, but recovered quickly and used
his now free arm to brace himself as Apollo came down on him. Out of
control, Apollo pounded him unceasingly, then suddenly stiffened, hissed,
and exploded inside him. It took all of Starbuck's willpower not to
ejaculate with him. Starbuck went down on his forearms as Apollo collapsed
on top of him.

After only a few microns, Apollo realized he was probably hurting Starbuck
with his weight, if nothing else, and pulled out to lie on the floor next
to his prostrate lover. Starbuck lowered his buttocks and turned to lean on
his side, facing Apollo, to see what he wanted next. Apollo, satiated,
smiled in gratitude at him.

For several centons the two men lay side by side. Then Apollo recovered
enough to pull his uniform together and push himself onto the sofa. He
admired Starbuck's aroused body from there, then realized what that arousal
meant. "Uh, Starbuck, you didn't - ?" He gestured towards Starbuck's
crotch.

"I didn't think you wanted me to. I didn't want to make a mess on the
carpet."

"Oh. But don't you - "

"Sure." Starbuck got back onto his knees and lowered his head. Baltar
always loved to watch this ultimate humiliation. He hadn't thought Apollo
would, but then he really didn't know what Apollo liked. Stifling a sob, he
reached with his tongue to touch his slit.

"Stop!" Starbuck jerked his head up. Apollo had jumped up with a horrified
expression. "What are you doing?"

Starbuck crawled backward rapidly. Obviously, he had guessed wrong. "I'm
sorry, I'm sorry," he said placatingly. "I misunderstood." He backed into
the desk and could go no further.

Apollo took a deep breath and closed his eyes. This was the exact opposite
of what he had wanted to happen. Unfortunately, his body had had other
ideas and things had gotten out of control. Sighing, he said, "Get dressed,
Starbuck."

Starbuck quickly complied, forcing his still engorged organ into the tight
uniform. Apollo had leaned over to examine a small stain on the carpet. It
was blood. He straightened frowning. "I did hurt you."

Starbuck was quick to soothe him. "No, you didn't. That's nothing, I didn't
even feel it. But I should clean it up before it sets." He got a wet cloth
to scrub the spot with.

Returning, he knelt, leaning over to scrub at the stain. Apollo stepped
behind him, placing a firm hand on his buttocks, trying to feel for tears
through the uniform. He was relieved when Starbuck didn't flinch away in
pain.

Starbuck looked back over his shoulder at the touch. Raising his eyebrows
in query, he straightened to his knees and put a hand on his waistband to
lower his pants. Apollo stopped him with a shake of his head and stepped
back. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't hurting."

"Thank you," Starbuck said sincerely.

"Starbuck, I didn't mean for this to happen." He sat down on the sofa with
his head in his hands.

Starbuck got up. When Apollo didn't continue, he asked "Should I go?"

Apollo raised his head at the soft query. He noticed the tightness of
Starbuck's uniform for the first time. "You're still - "

Starbuck looked honestly puzzled. "You didn't want me to finish myself," he
pointed out.

"No, not that way. I didn't want - don't want - you to force yourself to
perform for me. But I thought you'd - uh- you know."

"Calm down? I can, if that's what you want. I thought you wanted me to stay
hard." Both men realized they were not communicating.

"Starbuck, please sit down. We need to talk, to understand what's happening
here."

Starbuck pulled the desk chair around and sat in it. Apollo was pleased to
see that he didn't hesitate before sitting or wince as his bottom touched
the seat.

"I meant what I said before. I didn't plan this." Starbuck nodded, but said
nothing. Apollo continued. "I couldn't think of any other way to get you
out of Baltar's clutches." Looking down, he muttered, "I didn't think this
would happen."

"It's okay, it's happened before," Starbuck replied. Then forestalled
Apollo's response by adding, "Before Baltar, I mean." He laughed
self-deprecatingly. "I guess I'm good at *everything* I do." He shifted his
legs slightly to make himself more comfortable.

"You've done this before?" Apollo asked wonderingly, looking guiltily at
Starbuck's still large erection.

"As a cadet, yeah." In answer to Apollo's unspoken query, he continued. "It
started as a dare. You know, a kind of who's willing to do the most
outrageous thing? My roomie and I took the dare - to perform a sex show for
our house-row. So we did. Everybody had a laugh and we raked in the
credits. Only, I guess I was too good at it, from his point of view. He
wanted more. Privately, of course. Then he started asking for other things
- performances, things I wouldn't do on my oown, weird stuff. It got very
strange, very fast. I was afraid if I didn't do what he wanted he'd spread
the word I did anyway. So I went along."

"How did you end it?"

"Didn't have to. We were first yahren and it was halfway through the term
when we took the bet. Another dozen sectons and we were separated by rank
for second yahren." Starbuck hesitated. 'What the hell,' he thought, 'he
might as well know the whole thing. If it gives him ideas, well, it's
better than the ones he'd get if he makes me tell him about what Baltar
did.' "Only saw him at the occasional game," he continued. Of course, then
he'd want something for 'old times' sake', as he put it. Last time I saw
him was when I took the Commander - Commander Adama, I mean - over to the
Atlantia for that final Council meeting." Starbuck's expression turned
bitter. "I was *glad* when the Atlantia exploded. I was rid of *him*."
Starbuck shifted again, still aching from prolonged activity with no
release.

"I'm so sorry, Starbuck. And now I'm doing the same thing to you!" Starbuck
laughed. "What's so funny?"

"Well, at least I don't have to worry that you'll spread the word." They
both chuckled. "Seriously, though, Apollo, I can be very discreet. No one
ever knew my relationship to my roomie had changed from casual friendship
to, umm, something else. If you, hmm, if you want to, or need to," Starbuck
squirmed again, the shame of what he was saying was arousing him as shame
and humiliation always seemed to. "If you need to, no one will know from me
or from the way I act in public. In private, whatever you want, it's okay."

"Starbuck, this isn't right."

"But you want it." Apollo couldn't answer. "It's okay," Starbuck said
again. He stood. "May I go back to my quarters now?"

***

Starbuck was as good as his word. In public, he acted the same way he
always had around Apollo. He was his best friend, the one who wasn't awed
by the title "Commander". If he stood slightly farther away from Apollo
than he might have before, if he didn't meet the Commander's eyes most of
the time, it was not immediately noticeable. Unless you were looking for
it.

Apollo was relieved for the most part. Occasionally he was chagrined when
he turned to grin at his friend and Starbuck had turned a head, or when he
wasn't close enough to throw an arm around or slap on the back. But in
general it made things easier for Apollo.

Starbuck was being very careful without being obvious. No word had gotten
out at all, no rumors, no gossip, about what had happened on the prison
barge. Apollo had not requested his services since that single encounter in
the Commander's quarters. Starbuck was disappointed and relieved at the
same time. But, he reasoned, it was up to Apollo, not him. In the meantime,
he chastised himself, he should be paying attention to the staff meeting.

"Okay," Apollo was saying as the senior officers gathered around the star
map on his desk, "here are the coordinates where the signal came from." He
pointed at a star system in the upper right quadrant of the map.

Starbuck leaned forward to get a look at the make-up of the system. "Not
the right configuration for a supply base," he noted.

Jolly stepped up next to Starbuck, jostling him into Apollo. Apollo looked
up and met Starbuck's eyes. He felt a jolt of arousal which he quickly
quenched as Jolly began to speak. "Yah. No gas giants to mine from."

Starbuck stepped back, nodding. "Exactly. But if you look here," he leaned
forward, careful not to brush against Apollo, "you'll see where they could
be manufacturing." He pointed at the next system away.

Jolly and the others all nodded. Apollo turned to look at Starbuck. "And
the signal?" he asked.

"A beacon?" Starbuck hazarded. "If it's a new base, with all these systems
jammed together in this part of space, they'd need to direct the basestars
to them."

Apollo leaned back in his chair. "Good guess," he agreed. "So what should
we do? Any ideas?" he invited the gathered men.

"Attack?" Dillon ventured and everyone else laughed.

Troy clapped a friendly arm around the Captain. "That's always your
suggestion," he exclaimed. Starbuck noted he hugged him roughly before
releasing him. Dillon grinned abashedly.

"Yours and Commander Cain's," Apollo added. "You sure you're not related to
him? Sheba?"

"Very funny, Commander," Sheba replied drily, but with twinkling eyes. "But
you've forgotten, my father wouldn't have asked, he'd already be gone!"

"Granted," Apollo chuckled. "Anyone else?"

"We could hang around and take pot shots at the basestars as they come in
to refuel," suggested Jolly.

"Now *you* sound like Bojay!" Starbuck announced. Sheba giggled. "How about
getting rid of the beacon? I don't think we can count on having the
firepower to take out the depot."

"Agreed," both Commanders said at once. Troy, as Strike Commander,
continued. "I don't think this is a very complex or dangerous mission." He
looked to Starbuck and Dillon for confirmation. Both men nodded their
agreement. "Why don't we give it to a pair of senior cadets, then?"

"Good idea," Apollo said. "I'll have Boomer coordinate the course change."

"I'll get a roster of candidates for the mission from Athena," Dillon
volunteered.

"Which leaves me to work out the logistics, as usual," Starbuck pretended
to complain.

Dillon mock-saluted him with a grin. "I merely pay homage to your superior
experience."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Starbuck replied, returning the grin.

"It that's settled, then," Apollo looked around the room and seeing no
dissent continued, "dismissed."

Starbuck moved towards Dillon, who was already exiting, when he heard
Apollo's low, "Starbuck?" He hesitated and looked from the door to his
Commander. "Go ahead," Apollo said, grimacing at his friend's obsequience,
then sending him off with a reassuring smile and a shooing gesture. "I'll
catch up with you later."

Starbuck flinched reflexively, swallowed hard, then managed a weak grin and
nod before hurrying to catch up with Dillon.

Only Sheba, who was, in fact, watching the interactions between the two
men, noticed the brief interplay of emotions that passed between them. She
managed to fuss with some papers on the edge of Apollo's desk until
everyone else had left. At Apollo's raised eyebrow and cautious expression,
she smiled. "I see you've made up your mind," she said softly, still
smiling. She leaned forward over the desk and stopped Apollo's protest with
a brief kiss. "It's all right," she assured him. "I saw it coming before
you did. I'm not sorry I waited for you. But I won't be second best." She
grinned. "Time to prepare for the hunt! You know, I've kind of been looking
forward to it." The grin turned feral as she straightened and turned to
leave. "But, Apollo," she added from the door, "Be careful. I know he's
worth it and you do, too, but I don't think he believes it. And he's a lot
more fragile than he acts."

"I know," Apollo said softly. He smiled at her in gratitude, then winked.
"Good hunting," he wished. She blew him a kiss and walked quickly away.

***

"Hey, Dillon! Wait up!"

Dillon turned with a questioning smile at Starbuck's call. "What's up?" he
queried.

Starbuck looked around to be sure no one was within earshot. He had been
looking for an opportunity to do this, but he didn't want to undo
everything at the same time. "I wanted to thank you - I know I'm late doing
it."

"For what?" Dillon was honestly bewildered.

"For not telling anyone what happened with Baltar," Starbuck replied, then
flushed and looked down.

"Well, I had to tell Boomer and Apollo," Dillon stammered, caught unawares.
"And Troy, of course."

"Of course," Starbuck echoed.

"Ah, you know about me and Troy?"

"Know what?" said Starbuck innocently. "Anyway, I meant besides them. I
haven't heard a single rumor, gotten any odd looks or innuendoes. And I
appreciate it. Seriously."

"Did you think I'd go blabbing?" Dillon demanded. "Gods! You don't think
much of me, do you?"

"No, no, that isn't what I meant," Starbuck assured him quickly. "I think a
great deal of you. It's just that, well, sometimes things get out
unintentionally, if everyone isn't very careful. All I wanted to do was
thank you for caring enough to be that careful."

"Well, you're welcome," Dillon was uncomfortable. The whole incident was
something he'd rather forget. "But, say," he suddenly remembered the other
topic of conversation. "About me and Troy . . ."

"Like I said, what about you and Troy?" Starbuck replied, letting him know
he would return the favor.

"Could we go somewhere a little more private?" Dillon said suddenly. "My
quarters?"

"Sure," Starbuck replied a little suspiciously. "Lead on." They walked in
silence to Dillon's quarters.

After they'd seated themselves, Dillon continued. "Well, obviously you've
noticed Troy and I - we're, umm, close," Dillon wondered what Troy would
think of this conversation. Starbuck nodded cautiously. "I wondered if
you'd do us a favor?"

"What kind of favor?" Starbuck replied slowly, stepping back involuntarily.
'They wouldn't want - no, no they couldn't.'

"I know you and Commander Apollo are good friends," Dillon continued,
uncertain now at Starbuck's reaction. Starbuck nodded again warily. "Well,
tonight Troy and I are going to ask Apollo for his blessing and to seal
us."

"Oh," Starbuck breathed a sigh of relief, then chuckled. "That ought to
surprise him."

"You don't think he knows?"

"Ah, let's just say my friend is very astute in many areas, but observation
of personal relationships isn't one of them."

"Oh, well, I was afraid of that. Troy's a little nervous about his
reaction, too. Anyway, I thought maybe, since you're his best friend, you
could kind of drop by around shift-change. We'll have just told him - or
maybe still be telling him - by then. And if he needs somebody to talk to
or something, I thought it would be good if someone he was comfortable with
was there."

'Oh, yeah, that makes sense, more sense than I hope you realise,' Starbuck
thought. "Sure. I could do that," he said aloud. "Around shift change.
Fine. Well, I'd better be getting started on all the paperwork you left for
me to do."

***

As he approached Apollo's quarters, Starbuck could hear the shouting
through the bulkhead.

Suddenly the door slid open and Dillon came out, pulling Troy behind him.
Troy paused in the doorway for a final shot, "You can't stop us. We're
moving in together and making no secret of it. What can you do? Transfer us
to different Battlestars?"

Dillon and Starbuck stared at each other. "I take it things went less than
well," Starbuck ventured.

"Ah, you might say that," Dillon responded.

The door closed to "Troy, get back here - we need to talk," as Troy stepped
out of the way.

"Actually, Starbuck," he said as he turned towards them, "my father has no
problem with us being lovers."

"Other than wondering about the suddenness of it," Dillon put in. Starbuck
nodded, unsurprised.

"But he doesn't think we should go public," Troy concluded.

"Did he say why?" Starbuck wondered.

"I didn't give him the chance." Troy looked chagrined. "When he said 'no',
I guess I kind of got mad."

"Kind of," Dillon snorted. "I guess I should have realized when the steam
started coming out of your ears. And here I thought short temper was my
share of the partnership."

Starbuck suddenly realized they were in a public corridor. "I guess I'd
better go in," he said.

"Thanks for doing this for us," Troy said.

Starbuck nodded and, overriding Apollo's passcode with practiced ease, slid
through the door before it fully opened. An immediate change came over him
as the door closed behind him. His usually animated face became passive and
he lowered his eyes submissively. He shivered as he thought of what Apollo
might need to soothe him tonight.

Starbuck's first thought was to remove his clothes, but Apollo swung around
at the sound of the opening door, precluding that. "So you decided to talk
it over after all -" Apollo began, then realized who had come in.
"Starbuck?"

Starbuck took a few hesitant steps forward without looking up. "Commander
Troy and Captain Dillon thought you might want to talk to someone after
they, uhh, had their say," he explained placatingly.

"You knew about this?" Apollo demanded.

"I suspected," Starbuck amended his statement.

"And you didn't tell me?"

Starbuck shook his head and wondered how Apollo would punish him. He held
himself still and waited.

"So this isn't sudden?"

"No, I don't think so. I noticed it quite a few sectons ago and I suspect
they may have been together even before we were rescued."

"Then why didn't they do something about it back then?"

"Maybe they weren't sure. They are young, Commander."

"And maybe they remembered the rules against fraternization back then."
Apollo approached him and Starbuck fought not to move. "Why do you think my
father never took a lover - male or female? Why do you think Serina was
such a God-send?"

"What about Sheba?" The words were out of Starbuck's mouth before he could
stop them.

"Sheba was never in my direct line of command," Apollo hissed. "And before
you ask about *us*," he pushed and Starbuck went down on his knees in front
of Apollo. "Before you do that," Apollo continued, looming over him, "I'll
tell you: this is different."

"I know that," Starbuck said softly.

The soft words were Apollo's undoing. He lashed out at Starbuck with all
the anger he wanted to direct at his son. "How could they want to go public
with their love when I have to hide mine?"

Apollo jumped on Starbuck, pushing him onto his back, brutally ravishing
his lips while he tore at his clothes. He nibbled and sucked his way down
the unresisting body, feeling it respond to his rough blandishments until
his own needs overtook him. Heedless of any injury he might be causing, he
threw Starbuck over and entered him, pumping to completion without
satisfaction or pleasure.

Realizing with disgust what he had done, Apollo pushed Starbuck away from
him and sat down hard on the floor, back against the wall. Without
complaint, Starbuck crawled back over and bent his head to clean his
friend. Aroused again by the gentle ministrations, Apollo rose to his knees
and pushed Starbuck's head fully onto his organ, setting a bruising pace.
Once again, Apollo ejaculated with no sense of release. Once again, he
pushed Starbuck away in disgust at himself.

This time, Starbuck couldn't contain the cry of pain as he landed on his
torn anus. That brought Apollo fully back to himself. He crawled to his
friend, who curled into a ball in fear of what might be his next assault.
Seeing the bruised face and bloody buttocks, Apollo began to sob.

Starbuck immediately uncurled and put his arms around his erstwhile
attacker. "It's all right, Commander. You needed to get rid of your anger.
You didn't hurt me." Apollo shook his head in disagreement. "No, really,
Apollo. I've had worse - much worse. You know that." He rocked Apollo until
he quieted, then with difficulty Starbuck rose and led Apollo to the couch,
kneeling next to him with his hand on his back. "May I clean up?" he asked
in a quiet voice after some time had passed.

Apollo, nearly lost in his misery, merely nodded. He heard water running
nearby and a few soft sounds that might have been muffled moans. He
couldn't bring himself to move and find out. Then he felt gentle hands
turning him onto his back and parting his clothes. He steeled himself for
whatever revenge Starbuck might wish to visit on him. Instead, Apollo felt
a warm, wet cloth wiping his genitals carefully but thoroughly. When he
murmured a protest, Starbuck whispered, "I'm just cleaning the blood and
semen. I didn't get it all with my mouth. Lie still, Commander. It'll only
take a micron, then I'll leave."

When Apollo felt his clothes being fastened, he reached for Starbuck's
wrist. "Don't leave," he said.

"All right," Starbuck agreed.

Apollo managed to roll onto his side. Looking at Starbuck, he was apalled.
Although he was completely clean, bruises surrounded his lips and genitals.
Apollo suspected his buttocks were in similar condition. And yet Starbuck
simply knelt beside him, waiting. Apollo felt completely spent. But he knew
if he did nothing, Starbuck would simply wait until he fell asleep, then
quietly leave. Tomorrow, on duty, he'd act as if none of this had happened.
Apollo wondered what he'd tell Troy and Dillon. He shook his head to clear
it of these extraneous thoughts. Starbuck looked questioningly at him.
"Bed," he whispered.

"Of course," Starbuck answered, and helped him rise.

Once in the bedroom, Starbuck started to help him into bed, but Apollo
stopped him. "No, I meant you," he said. "Lie down so I can tend to your
injuries."

"I'm really all right, Commander," Starbuck demurred, but let himself be
pushed onto the bed. He felt his erection stir painfully amid its bruises
as Apollo rubbed soothing cream onto his bruised buttocks and then into the
torn tissue between them.

"Is it all right if I push in a bit?" Apollo asked solicitously.

"Of course," Starbuck replied almost sleepily. The result was both pleasure
and pain as the burning in his rectum ceased but the ache in his bruised
penis increased. Starbuck turned his face into the pillow to muffle the
moans he couldn't hold back.

Apollo rolled him over carefully. There wasn't much he could do about the
bruised lips, but the other bruises could be eased. Looking more carefully,
Apollo realized how aroused Starbuck was despite his pain. Looking up, he
saw that his friend's eyes were closed. Fearing his hands would be too
rough, Apollo knelt between Starbuck's legs and gently used lips and tongue
to bring him over the edge. Starbuck thrust once as he came, whimpering as
the oft-withheld pleasure of release was granted. Apollo cleaned him
gently, then moved up to lay beside him, kissing him once on the forehead
as he lay down.

Starbuck shivered and Apollo pulled the coverlet up around them and took
him into his arms. Starbuck inched away and opened his eyes to look at his
lover, not quite sure he wanted the truth, but needing to know. "Apollo?"
he said softly.

"Mmm?" Apollo, almost asleep, forced his eyes open and was startled to find
Starbuck's blue ones studying him cautiously.

"What you said before, about hiding your love, did you - did you mean me?"

Apollo sighed and looked guilty. "Yes, Starbuck. I'm sorry."

"Did you," Starbuck forced himself to go on - to be sure. "Did you mean
that you love me?"

"Yes. I think I've loved you for a very long time. I just never let myself
realize it until Baltar took you again. I meant to tell you - honestly I
did. But then you - I - frak! I should have. I'm so sorry."

"That's okay. I don't think anybody's ever loved me before. It feels good.
Strange, but good." Starbuck closed his eyes and burrowed closer to Apollo.
"I love you, too, you know. Always have." His breathing evened and he was
asleep.

Apollo rose on one elbow to look down at his sleeping lover. 'How could he
possibly say that after what I just did to him?' he wondered, then realized
he knew the answer. That was what love was about. "I will make this up to
you," he swore in a fierce whisper. "This and what all the others did to
you."

***

"Where's Sheba?" Hera asked, as she joined Cass at the table.

Athena brought over a pot of chai for herself and Cass and a mug of kaf for
Hera, as she replied, "In her words: 'on the hunt'."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hera asked, looking blank.

Cass laughed. "I think it means she's not only accepted that Apollo's true
love is not her, but she's relishing finding a new 'Captain Right'!" Athena
nodded her agreement.

"I know Apollo's been busy with the prison riot and the new information on
Cylon advancement," Hera said, "But what's this about him not being Sheba's
one and only? For Sagan's sake! She waited 20 yahrens for him!"

"True," Cass said placidly. "And I waited for Starbuck, too. And I don't
think either of us were wrong to wait. But, even waiting, we changed. And,
well, they changed, too. More than even they knew, I guess."

"Certainly more than Apollo realized," Athena confirmed. "Starbuck?" She
shrugged. "He came back with so many physical and psychological problems,
it's a wonder he even remembers the person he was 20 yahrens ago."

"Okay," Hera conceded. "I can see where Starbuck might no longer be the
same person he was, no offense Cass."

"None taken," Cass murmured. "And you're more right about Starbuck than you
know. He's not the same person, thanks to Baltar and the Cylons. We've been
trying together for almost a yahren, but between the physical remnants of
his torture and, as Athena put it, the psychological ones, it was just no
good." She laughed a little sadly and took a sip of chai. "It's funny. He
saw it before I did. And he was right. I'm not about to go on a manhunt
like Sheba, it just isn't my style, but I do think I'm almost ready to look
for someone to take care of me a little more and need my care a little
less. And maybe someone in a less dangerous profession!"

"But what about Apollo?" Hera demanded, returning to the original subject.
"Seemed like nothing happened to him and he got right back in the cockpit,
so to speak." The other women nodded in agreement. "And he certainly hasn't
had time to find somebody new, so what's up?"

"Good question," Sheba said from the door. "Mind if I join you after all?"
Those already at Athena's dining table murmured their welcomes and made
room. "Oof!," Sheba said, sitting heavily as Athena put a cup of kaf in
front of her. "Thanks! You know, I never realized what hard work flirting
and teasing were. Or how young most of the available men are!"

The others laughed. Then Hera cleared her throat. "Look, if it's none of my
business ..."

"No, Hera," Athena said, patting her hand. "You've been part of our group
for too many yahrens for it not to be your right to know what's going on.
But it isn't my story to tell, or Cass's really. Sheba?"

Sheba swallowed her mouthful of kaf and nodded. "Athena's right. Although I
would say the story is partly Cass's. You're right, Hera, Apollo hasn't had
time to find anyone *new*. And he's not the two-timing kind."

"Face it, he was never the *one*-timing kind," Athena muttered and they all
laughed.

"All too true," laughed Sheba. "Look, the short story is that all those
yahrens of Starbuck protecting Apollo from harm and Apollo taking care of
Starbuck brought them very close together - very close."

Hera choked on her kaf. "While they were prisoners! I mean, I can *almost*
see Starbuck not caring about privacy, but Commander Apollo?"

"No, no, no," Sheba said laughing even harder. "But when they got back here
and things settled down, and they started settling in, well, I think they
both realized - maybe 'realized' isn't the right word, you have to hit
Apollo with a bulkhead before he realizes anything - but, eventually, they
found out why they had taken such care with each other."

"It's really quite romantic," Athena said, smiling. "Of course, my brother
nearly lost Starbuck again before he was willing to admit his feelings to
himself. I could almost say 'like father, like son', except I know that
Boxey knew who he wanted long ago."

Sheba nodded, "Yeah, he confided in me, too. Should he go public? What
would the Council think? What would his grandfather think?"

"What did you tell him?" Athena asked, curious.

"I advised him to wait until he was sure. And Dillon was sure. I don't
think that happened until recently either."

"Definitely not," Cass said. "Dillon wanted to have his cake, or his
Commander, and his ladies - all until Baltar got loose again."

"Well, to be fair, Boxey becoming Commander changed the whole equation,"
Sheba pointed out. "He followed Adama's pattern - no time for a private
life while we're in a state of war."

"True," Athena said. "I thought we'd never see 'Boxey' again once he became
Commander Troy. Thank the Lords Dillon brought him back to reality once in
a while."

"Thank the Lords who gave us Apollo and Starbuck back," whispered Cass.

The other three nodded.

Hera picked up the thread of the conversation. "So Troy and Dillon are back
together? They've been very discreet."

"Well, actually, they were never apart, at least not for long, even with
Dillon's roving ways," Athena explained. "They've been very discreet since
Adama inquired about what they were up to yahrens ago."

"That's right. He started asking questions while we were still orbiting
Earth," Sheba recalled. "There'll never be another like him - he always
knew what was going on, especially when you thought he didn't!"

"Anyway," Hera prompted them back to the original subjects, "that's old
news, even if it's being renewed. What about Apollo and Starbuck? Are they
together or not?"

"Now that's a good question," answered Sheba. "I think they tried, but one
of them shied off."

"That would be Starbuck," Cass said quietly.

"That's my guess," agreed Athena.

"I don't know," Sheba said. "I don't think Starbuck would be the one to
pull away; he'd never do anything to hurt Apollo. I think maybe it's Apollo
who's being wary." She looked at the others and decided some of her hunches
were better left unvoiced. "After all," she concluded, "as Athena said,
he's not much of a one-timer with a woman and he's such a stickler for
protocol."

"You may be right," Cass said thoughtfully. She looked at Sheba, who
avoided her eyes. Sheba wasn't telling all she surmised, but Cass didn't
call her on it. "And Starbuck will do whatever Apollo wants these days."

"Well," said Hera, rising and stretching, "You can tell them - all four of
them - for me that they've certainly been discreet enough that I never
suspected! I better get going now or I won't have a seal-mate - the twins
are down, or rather up, with something or other they caught at junior
learning, and he'll have had his hands full all cycle!"

"I'd best be going, too," Cass agreed. "Dr. Salik is showing me yet another
Earth surgical technique he's figured out on first cycle."

"I'll walk you to your quarters," Sheba volunteered. "It's on my route
anyway."

"Good. You can tell me how to snare a new man after 21 yahrens, then!"

"Only if you don't mind him still in potty-clothes!" Sheba retorted.
"Thanks for the kaf, Athena! See you on the bridge."

"Be nice, ladies!" Athena admonished, teasingly. "And if you find three who
aren't too decrepit, save one for me, too. I'm getting tired of being the
nice widow-lady."

***

After their abortive attempt to convince Apollo to seal, them Dillon and
Troy spent the remainder of the evening moving Dillon's small amount of
personal effects into Troy's quarters, which they then pronounced "theirs".
But Dillon wouldn't let Troy complete the arrangement until he had
apologized to his father. "You're not being fair, you know. It's not like
we haven't made love in here before."

"It wasn't our quarters before - it was yours. Now it's different. And it
won't feel right until you apologize."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going, I'm going, you don't have to push," grumbled Troy
as Dillon propelled him out of their quarters. Dillon stepped back and the
door began to close. "Hey, wait a micron! Aren't you coming?"

"No. I didn't argue with him, he's not my father, and I'm the source of the
problem from his point of view. Sagan, Troy! When did I get to be the
rational one?" Dillon gave one more push and retreated into the room,
chuckling.

Troy sighed and, feeling very much like a six-year old Boxey, trudged down
the hall towards his father's quarters. Reaching them, he chimed his
presence, then keyed in his passcode when there was no answer. He walked in
to a disaster area. 'Boy! He must have really been upset. I remember the
stories Boomer and Starbuck used to tell about the Triad locker room after
a bad game, but I never thought he'd destroy his own quarters. Then he
spotted the bloody rag lying in front of the couch. Panicking at the
thought that his father had injured himself, forgetting that Starbuck had
been with Apollo after he and Dillon left, he called out, "Father? Where
are you? Are you all right?"

Apollo startled awake at the call from the outer room. Looking quickly over
at Starbuck, still sleeping off his exhaustion, but stirring restlessly at
the noise, he grabbed the robe he kept at the foot of the bed and opened
the door. "Boxey?" he asked, surprised to find his son standing in the
middle of his quarters.

"I came to apologize, but you didn't answer the door. Then I noticed this,"
Troy's voice rose as he held up the blood-soaked cloth. "What happened? Are
you all right?"

"I'm fine, I umm -" Apollo broke off at the frightened voice behind him.

"'Pollo?" Starbuck had awakened in a dark, unfamiliar room, naked and in
pain. Confused, he latched onto his lover's voice and moved toward it.
Blinking at the light as he looked over Apollo's shoulder, he became more
confused. "Boxey?"

Troy's mouth fell open at the sight of his father's best friend, naked and
bruised, swaying unsteadily in the doorway. "Father?" he asked in
astonishment, "what happened here?"

Ignoring him, Apollo turned to Starbuck, shielding him from Troy as he
steadied him. "It's okay, Starbuck, you're just half asleep. We didn't mean
to wake you. Come back to bed and I'll talk to Boxey outside."

"But, where? Why?"

"You're in my quarters, remember?" Starbuck shook his head, uncertainly.
"It's okay, I'll explain after you've gotten some more sleep." Apollo led
his friend back to bed and settled him as comfortably as he could, waiting
until his eyes closed before leaving the room.

Apollo closed the door to find Troy waiting exactly where he had left him.
"Thank you for not upsetting him, son," he said.

Troy looked around the room. Starbuck's torn clothing lay near the door.
His father was clearly unharmed. He looked at the bloody cloth again. "You
took out your anger on *him*?" he asked accusingly.

"No, it's not what it looks like," Apollo stammered, then stopped. "Yes.
Yes, it is. That's exactly what I did." He sat heavily and put his head in
his hands.

"Hasn't he been through enough? What is he, your personal punching bag?"
Troy's voice was full of disgust.

Apollo looked up. "I think, no, I *know*, that's what he thinks he is. And,
Gods help me, I've gone along with it. I've gone along with it when all I
want to do is love him. Make him whole again."

"You picked a great way to show him love." Apollo nodded mutely. "So what
happens now?" Troy asked sarcastically. "When he wakes up you concoct some
story together to explain his injuries and take him to Life Center? Or do
you make him go on patrol like that?""

Apollo straightened. "No. When he wakes I'll tell him how wrong I was and
I'll beg for his forgiveness. And I'll make him understand that I love him
- that I want to love him - but that I don'tt own him, that no one owns him,
no one ever should have." He looked at his son. "I was wrong, Boxey. Love
shouldn't be hidden. That's what perverts it. Your grandfather was a wise
man in many ways, but in this he was wrong, too. I won't hide my love any
longer. And I won't ask you to hide yours. I will be proud to seal you and
Dillon - if you still want me to."

"I came here to apologize. Dillon more or less made me do it. But I didn't
come to tell you we'd changed our minds. We moved in together tonight. But
if we, if I, caused this to happen, if it's because of what Dillon and I
told you, or because I blew up when you didn't agree - " Boxey trailed off,
shaking his head.

"No, it's not your fault. This is the kind of relationship we've had. It's
the way we started, it's the only way Starbuck knows - frak! This is the
kind of relationship we have because I didn't have the courage to stop it -
to teach Starbuck that this isn't the way love's supposed to be." Apollo
stood. "Look, you talk it over with Dillon. And maybe give me a chance to
show you I do love Starbuck and I can turn this around. Then let me know
whether you still want me to seal you. Whatever you decide, you have my
blessing."

"And mine." Father and son turned at the clear, quiet voice. Starbuck,
wrapped in a coverlet, leaned against the bedroom door frame, looking tired
but alert. "You two don't know how to be quiet and let a man sleep," he
teased. "'Sides, it's lonely in there. I've had enough loneliness." He held
his hand out towards Apollo. "Come back to bed? Please?" Apollo was at his
lover's side immediately, taking the proffered hand in one of his and
putting his other arm around him.

"I'll let myself out," Boxey said. "Pleasant dreams."

***

Apollo reviewed the list of things that needed to be accomplished while
Starbuck dozed in his usual position, curled at Apollo's feet, his head
resting against his lover's knee. Apollo absently stroked the blond head
while he went over the list once more.

At the door chime, Starbuck roused himself and went to answer it. Half
asleep, he forgot he was naked. He was usually naked in their shared
quarters. Apollo seemed to prefer it and Starbuck didn't mind. Their only
visitors, since he had moved in with Apollo, had been Troy and Dillon.
Dillon accepted it in his usual laid back way and Troy, after initially
seeming displeased, had grown to view it as a way to ensure that Starbuck
was no longer being abused. However, it wasn't the younger couple who
appeared as the door opened this time.

"Hi Star-, umm, am I interrupting something?" Boomer asked.

"Huh? Oh!" Starbuck suddenly realized his state of undress. "No, no, not at
all. I just kind of fell asleep. C'mon in."

Boomer looked skeptical, he wasn't sure what falling asleep had to do with
being unclothed, but he entered as Starbuck stepped back. He was surprised
when Starbuck didn't head for the bedroom to get dressed, but returned to
Apollo, this time curling next to him on the couch, aware of the
misinterpretations that occurred when he sat at his lover's feet.

Apollo watched the scene unfold, waiting to see Boomer's reaction, and
merely put his arm around Starbuck pulling him close. Boomer sat in a chair
on Apollo's side of the couch. He surmised that Starbuck's lack of attire
was a normal part of their relationship and decided it was none of his
business since both men seemed at ease with it. Seeing Boomer relax, Apollo
turned to Starbuck. "Do you want to get dressed?"

"No, I'm all right," Starbuck returned, snuggling into Apollo's side. Then
Apollo's meaning occurred to him. "Unless Boomer," he sat up and leaned
past Apollo to see his old friend, "Umm, is this okay with you? If you're
not comfortable, I'll put some clothes on."

"Don't do it on my account," Boomer responded looking directly at him.

"'Kay. As long as you don't mind, I'll just stay like this."

"Well, as long as you aren't planning to go to your sealing that way,"
Boomer grinned.

"Oh, I don't know," Starbuck replied mischievously. "It'd be a lot less
stressful than having to pick the right outfit. Ow!" Starbuck looked at his
partner. "What was that for?" Apollo, first alarmed then amused at the
thought of Starbuck reciting his vows in the nude before the assembled
sealing celebrants, had pinched him.

"Just reminding you that I have veto authority here," Apollo said blithely.
"I get to decide who can admire you and where."

"And you don't want to show me off to the whole Council and the assembled
troops?" Starbuck asked innocently.

"Starbuck!" But Apollo couldn't carry off the mock-outrage. He burst into
laughter instead at the mental picture he got at his lover's words.
Starbuck snuggled close again and Apollo stroked his side. Starbuck was
immediately aroused. One of the more pleasant side-effects of his yahrens
under Baltar's vicious tutelage was his ability to be aroused by the
slightest touch to almost any part of his body.

The door chime sounded again, and Starbuck rose to answer it again, giving
Boomer a full view of his erection. Feeling a stirring in his groin as he
looked at the undeniably attractive body, Boomer realized he had forgotten
the pleasures to be had with another male body in the years since he and
Jenny had been sealed.

This time it was Troy and Dillon at the door. Troy gave Starbuck his usual
visual examination, noting his arousal, then noting his own lover's
physical response to the same stimulus. Dillon's erection bumped his thigh
as he moved past Troy into the room. Fortunately, Dillon's tunic hid the
evidence from Apollo and Boomer. Troy glanced at Starbuck again, who smiled
and shrugged. It had not escaped *his* notice. Troy quickly tamped down the
image of Dillon and Starbuck playing together while he and his father
watched. But he saved the thought for future exploration.

Starbuck brought a tray of snacks and drinks as Dillon and Troy seated
themselves on the sofa opposite Apollo. Apollo felt the need to adjust his
tunic as Starbuck bent, his back towards his lover, to offer the
refreshments to the younger couple. As he set the tray down on a side table
near Boomer, Apollo noted Boomer squirm and look away. He didn't have to
look at Dillon; he'd seen the young man's reactions to Starbuck before. And
Troy would respond to Dillon. "Ahh, Starbuck? I think maybe you'd better
put some clothes on after all," Apollo suggested.

Starbuck turned towards Apollo, a flicker of uncertainty in his expression,
worried that he'd done something wrong. Apollo smiled to reassure him and
Troy swatted playfully at his butt. "You're too damned distracting," the
younger Commander said. "We need to settle the double-sealing. Another time
though . . ."

Dillon rolled his eyes at his lover, then smiled as the thought took hold.
Boomer looked at Troy as though he'd lost his mind. Apollo turned his gaze
to Starbuck. To Apollo's relief, the idea didn't seem to upset his lover.
Starbuck's return look told Apollo it would be up to him. "Not tonight,"
Apollo said firmly, "Go get dressed."

Starbuck left for the bedroom and Apollo found himself gazing into Boomer's
frankly amazed expression. Clearly their friend had expected a completely
negative response from Apollo. Equally clear was his own interest in
pursuing the matter. Apollo smiled and nodded slightly, acknowledging both.

"Well," said Apollo as Starbuck returned in slacks and shirt and sat next
to him, "now that we're all here, let's talk about this double-sealing.
I've made a list . . ."

The other four men burst into laughter.

***

In bed later, Apollo pulled the once again naked Starbuck to him. "You
really wouldn't mind the idea of the group of us?"

Starbuck's immediate response was that he would do whatever Apollo wanted.
But he knew Apollo wanted him to think it through. "With the four of you, I
would be okay," he finally replied.

"I don't want you to go back to -" Apollo couldn't finish the sentence.

"To feeling like I had no say? No, I don't think that would happen. I feel
safe with all of you."

"Just safe?"

"Maybe safe isn't the right word. I'd be comfortable enough to stop
anything I didn't want. I know none of you would hurt me intentionally. And
I like the idea of being able to give something pleasurable to all of you
at once."

"But what about you? I know I give you release. And I know you love me. But
I also know I haven't yet given you the kind of physical pleasure that you
give me. I still don't know what *you* want."

Starbuck sighed. It came back to the same thing every time. Apollo wanted
him to think about what *he* wanted. What *did* he want? He had put his own
considerations aside so many yahrens ago. His feelings of being no more
than property had subsided. He knew he could say no, and very occasionally
did. But he had yet to figure out what he wanted for himself. "I have an
idea," he said, before he lost the courage to make the suggestion. "I want
our sealing night to be perfect for both of us, too. But I honestly don't
know what would do that for me. But I was just thinking that maybe, and
it's okay if you don't feel comfortable with this - we don't have to do it
- I'm content knowing you love me and that II can give you back that love
and physical pleasure. But if you're willing, maybe if all of you show me
what you do to give that pleasure, I can get past the bad memories and
feel. I don't know. But I think that's why I'm not afraid of this, because
it's a chance and maybe I'm ready. I think everything you did originally
came out wrong because that's all I knew - it's what I expected. And you're
bringing me to climax was - is - the most wonderful thing. But I know in my
head that what comes before should be wonderful, too. So maybe if all of
you show me, maybe I can feel it again."

Apollo thought about it. Maybe he could learn, too. Learn how to give
Starbuck the pleasure he yearned for. On the other hand, once the moment
had passed, the others might not think this was such a great idea any more.
He'd have to work some things out with Boxey at the least. The idea of
having a sexual encounter with his own son did not appeal to him. He'd talk
to him soon. He couldn't put this one off, not when it meant so much to
Starbuck.

***

"Uncomfortable?" Boxey grinned, leaning back against the desk and watching
his father pace the room.

"That word doesn't begin to describe it," Apollo admitted with an answering
grin. "Look, I gather you're still interested in, ahh, playing together."

"Yup. Dillon and I are looking forward to it."

"Yes. Well."

"You can't back out!" Boxey blurted. "Starbuck won't go along without you."

"Actually, he would if I told him to," Apollo began, then raised his hands
to ward off Boxey's anger. "But I'm not going to. I'm not backing out
exactly. Look, I'm uncomfortable even talkiing to you about this. And doing
something with *you* - well, I just can't see it."

Boxey laughed with relief. "Is that all? Neither can I. I'm doing this for
Dillon. Well, for me, but through Dillon. I like Starbuck, but I feel no
attraction. Whether he and I do anything - I don't know. It wouldn't
disturb me either way. Dillon, on the other hand . . . Maybe you haven't
noticed, but he gets turned on just looking at Starbuck. And *that's* what
turns me on. I'd like to follow that through to some, umm, conclusion."

"Ahh, now that I can understand. And, if you and Starbuck want to explore
each other, that's okay. As long as it's what Starbuck wants, too. So I
guess it's a question of when."

"Not when any of us have to be on duty the next cycle," Boxey said, nodding
his agreement. "And what about Boomer?"

***

What about Boomer indeed? At that moment, that was what the Colonel himself
was wondering. He sat at the kitchen table watching his wife putter. He had
tried, in a casual, vague way, to sound her out. At least he thought he had
been casual and vague.

Jenny turned, wiping her hands on her apron, and leaned against the
counter. "So you'd like to have a cycle out with the boys?" she asked, her
eyes twinkling.

"Ahh, I didn't say I *wanted* to, I just, ahh, wondered how you'd feel
about it," Boomer corrected, wishing she didn't know him quite so well.

"Uh huh. I was on the flight line,sweetie, remember? I know how eclectic
you were way back when."

"That was 20 yahrens ago! Jenny, you know I've been faithful to you -"

"Since well before I was to you. 'Course I know it. You are one predictable
man. Why do you think I decided you were my seal-mate?"

"*You* decided? You wouldn't say yes or no for three yahrens after I knew
for sure!"

"Doesn't mean I didn't know. Just means I wasn't saying." She sat next to
him and took his hands. "Boomer, I know you love me. And I also know what
you gave up for me. What you don't know is that you didn't have to."

Boomer opened and closed his mouth several times before he could get words
out. Then he shrugged. "I didn't give up all that much. Not that I was ever
with *them*, but the only men I was really interested in were Apollo and
Starbuck - for more than just fun, I mean. Once they were gone - " he
shrugged.

"And now they're back and finally settling?" Jenny suggested.

Boomer nodded. "And Starbuck is still the most beautiful man I've ever
seen. Just seeing him again like that." Boomer sighed. "I'm an old married
man, with a ton of kids to boot. For them to even suggest it. Ahh, I should
have just said no."

"I don't think so," Jenny demurred. "And I don't think you should now
either. It has nothing to do with us. But it has everything to do with you
and them. You go ahead. Taste that beautiful man. I know it won't hurt our
relationship. Who knows, maybe you'll get some new ideas after all these
yahrens!"

"Jenny!"

Jenny just laughed. Boomer leaned forward and kissed her. "Yeah. I chose
the right person - man or woman - to seal with. No doubt about it."

"'Bout time you realized that." She got up. Over her shoulder she added,
"By the way, if you think this is a one-time thing, I think you may be
surprised. And I still don't mind - not at all."

***

The five lounged on cushions in a rough circle, more cushions and pillows
filled the center of the circle. Starbuck was naked as usual, the only one
comfortable with starting out that way. He leaned against Apollo, who
stroked his arm. "So, how do we start?" he asked. "I can perform for you,
if that's easiest."

"No, don't do that," Dillon demurred. "That's too much like what you had to
do all those times." He looked at Troy, who nodded for him to continue.
"Troy and I've been talking. He noticed how much you turn me on and that's
what turns him on. So, I'd like to, well, play with you while the others
watch. I guess that's kind of the two of us performing for the rest of you,
but it's not the same as making one person do it."

Without waiting, Dillon stripped quickly and stepped over to Starbuck,
offering his hand. Starbuck had to force himself not to look to Apollo for
permission, but he took the proffered hand and rose to his knees, then
stood, feeling Apollo's acquiescence in the loving stroke down his back as
he did so.

Dillon led Starbuck to the middle of the circle, then stepped back, his
hands on the other's shoulders. "You're so beautiful," he whispered. He ran
his hands down Starbuck's arms, then moved one up to cup his cheek.
Starbuck instinctively stood still, except for his penis, which had a mind
of its own, and was burgeoning rapidly.

Dillon returned his hands to Starbuck's shoulders and leaned in for a kiss,
his own erection bobbing gently against Starbuck's. His hands ran down
Starbuck's arms again, while he held his mouth captive, tracing the outline
of the lips with his tongue. He pulled Starbuck's hands away from his sides
and delicately slid up them. Then, moving his lips down Starbuck's chin,
along his neck, and onto his chest, he slid feather-light strokes down his
flanks. Hands on Starbuck's hips, Dillon's thumbs massaged his pelvis while
his long fingers kneaded the sides of his buttocks.

Dillon heard Troy sigh to his left. He knew that, had Starbuck been Troy,
he would have been trembling so hard by now that he would have had to be
leaning against Dillon for support. Troy would have been whimpering
continuously, his pre-cum coating Dillon's penis. But only Starbuck's penis
seemed to be responding, pre-cum dripping from it as it jerked and
lengthened.

Dillon looked up and saw Starbuck's thinly compressed lips and realized he
was holding back any sound that might express his feelings, probably from
habit and training. He was probably forcibly controlling his muscles the
same way, holding them tight, so they couldn't tremble. Leaving his hands
to their work, Dillon returned his mouth to Starbuck's, forcing it to
relax. A whimper escaped and Starbuck went rigid. Dillon kissed him in
gentle reassurance and felt the sigh of relief against his mouth.

Dillon's mouth traced Starbuck's jawline, then went down the side of his
neck to his collarbone. Now Starbuck was trembling and his arms went
tentatively around Dillon for support. Dillon's mouth returned to
Starbuck's as he pushed down with his hands, moving both of them to their
knees. He stroked Starbuck's back until the trembling stopped, then pulled
his upper body away from Starbuck's and laid the older man out straight on
his side, quickly joining him, their bodies mirroring each other. Hands on
Starbuck's buttocks, he pulled them closer together and began rubbing his
penis against Starbuck's, his mouth returning to Starbuck's, prodding it
open gently with his tongue.

Starbuck moved his upper leg over Dillon to give him more room to move and
began thrusting toward him, Dillon's hands kneading his buttocks in
encouragement. Starbuck was lost in the tremors of the two penises slicking
sliding against each other. He pressed closer to Dillon to increase the
friction, and sucked on the tongue that had been gently investigating his
mouth. Dillon held Starbuck in place by his buttocks, moaning into
Starbuck's mouth as his tongue was captured and pulled further in. Starbuck
held the back of his head with one hand, the other stroking his back.
Suddenly, the stroking ceased and the hand made its presence known by
rhythmically squeezing Dillon's scrotum. Dillon's moans increased in
intensity. He began thrusting with both tongue and cock, while Starbuck
held him firmly as he tightened, stiffened, and came.

The pounding against his organ took Starbuck over the edge before Dillon
softened. He arched and tightened his grip as he came, moving finally to
return Dillon's kiss as their bodies parted. When he could move again,
Starbuck reached for the towels laid out in advance and cleaned first
Dillon's then his own body as best he could.

The three observers had long since opened their pants to give freedom to
their jealous organs. They all stroked themselves firmly as they watched
Starbuck clean Dillon and himself.

Now Dillon crawled over to Troy, a knowing grin on his face. He lay his
head in his lover's lap and began licking the pre-cum from his throbbing
staff. Troy patted his head. "Take your time," he murmured. "Don't wear
yourself out." When Dillon looked up to determine whether Troy was serious,
Troy nodded in Starbuck's direction, where the next act was about to begin.
Dillon kissed his lover's cock and turned to watch while he rested.

Starbuck lay where Dillon had left him, eyes half closed as he tried to
remember the last time he had felt so physically good. He loved Apollo, not
Dillon. That had not changed. But Dillon had brought his body to life
without pain. When Apollo brought him to climax, the focus was only on his
genitals; any other touch during sex brought memories of pain. But Dillon
had somehow diffused the sensations. They weren't concentrated long enough
in any one area to bring up memories. The climax was both more leisurely
and more intense. But he still wanted Apollo.

Did Apollo still want him? Fearfully, he looked at his Commander. And was
met with a loving gaze and smile. Relief flooded through him. Then Apollo
flicked his eyes to his right and Starbuck recognized the signal.

Rising on one elbow, Starbuck looked down the length of his body at Boomer.
The dark man had his engorged organ in hand, not really expecting to have
help. Starbuck reached out to him with his free arm and Boomer rose and
moved toward him, removing shirt and pants as he went. 'Jenny,' he thought,
'I sure hope you really meant it when you said you had no problem with
this, 'cause it's too late for either of us to change our minds now.'

Reaching his friend, Boomer took the proffered hand and pulled him to his
feet. Boomer held him close and moved into a deep kiss. Starbuck's mouth
opened easily to his friend's warm tongue and he was enveloped by the full
lips. Parting his mouth from Starbuck's, Boomer fell to his knees and began
dividing his mouth's efforts between Starbuck's nipples. A moan escaped
Starbuck's open mouth and he grabbed Boomer's shoulders for support, head
tossed back.

Boomer moved down to Starbuck's navel, thrusting his tongue in and out as
Starbuck whimpered. Boomer felt Starbuck's cock stir against his chest and
bent his head to give its tip a quick kiss, smiling at the thrust and moan
that resulted. Then he moved back to the navel, alternating thrusts with
small nips to either side. Starbuck was bucking against him now and his own
organ was dripping onto the pillows.

Boomer started to move around Starbuck, sliding his hands around the other
man's waist, when he felt the other man stiffen and painfully grip his
shoulders. He looked up. Starbuck's eyes were wide and he was swallowing
convulsively. The only thing that didn't make sense to Boomer was the still
throbbing penis beating against his chest. "What is it?" he asked gently,
noticing in his peripheral vision that Apollo was sitting up, ready to
move.

"Please, just stay where I can see you," Starbuck whispered.

"Sure," Boomer reassured him. "No problem. Come down here." He leaned back
onto his heels and pulled the fearful man onto his lap, bending his head to
capture his mouth in another deep kiss. Starbuck relaxed into the kiss and
felt Boomer's erection respond at his buttocks. He giggled into Boomer's
mouth.

Boomer pulled away, confused. "Now, what?"

"You're tickling me," Starbuck replied, still giggling at the sensation.
"It's not something I've ever felt back there before." His own penis bobbed
its agreement, bouncing against Boomer's waist.

Boomer chuckled. "Well, you'll have to help me take care of that, okay?"
Starbuck nodded and Boomer slipped him off his lap and onto his side, then
lay down opposite him so that they were facing each other's erections.

"Oh, I know what to do now," Starbuck declared and fitted action to words.
Boomer gasped and responded in kind. Behind him, Apollo sat back and
soothed his own organ, telling it silently to be patient.

Starbuck gasped, almost letting Boomer's organ slip from his mouth. 'So
that's what it feels like,' he thought. 'Never felt like that when I did
myself! Guess I didn't let myself feel it when Apollo did it.' Then he
couldn't think at all as he came, bucking and screaming, into Boomer's
mouth. The sheer intensity of Starbuck's climax, and his mouth clamping
around Boomer's penis in an attempt to stifle the scream, took Boomer with
him, and he pulled out to avoid choking Starbuck on his cum - Starbuck was
in no condition to remember to swallow.

Apollo had to assist Boomer in getting free. He knelt opposite Boomer and
stroked Starbuck's cheek in an attempt to bring him back to full
consciousness. Starbuck murmured something incoherent and turned to snuggle
into Apollo's erection, taking it into his mouth then seeming to fall
asleep. Apollo's and Boomer's eyes met and they shared a quiet laugh.
Starbuck looked like nothing so much as a small child who had fallen asleep
with a favorite candy in his mouth.

Boomer slid back leaving Apollo to support Starbuck. He glanced at the
younger couple and saw they were too involved with each other to notice
him. Starbuck's climax had ignited them and they were buried in each
other's mouths re-enacting the event. A glance at Apollo showed no
jealousy, only gratitude for giving his lover this gift. Dressing quickly,
Boomer reached down to squeeze Apollo's shoulder as he left. "Maybe I can
get a commendation from him to show Jenny," he murmured. "She's never rated
my performance this high."

Sighing, Apollo settled in to wait for Starbuck to awaken on his own. He
had only a few centons to wait. Starbuck's eyes opened and he blinked in
confusion. Then recognizing by feel what was in his mouth, he turned his
attention to it. Apollo stroked his cheek again to get his attention. When
the blue eyes focused on him and recognition dawned, he smiled. "Bedroom,"
he mouthed, and nodded to something behind Starbuck.

Starbuck released him to turn and look. The younger couple, sated, were
curled around each other in deep exhausted sleep. He turned back to Apollo
and nodded. "Need help," he whispered after trying to stand. Apollo
chuckled and easily picked him up, carrying him off to the bedroom and
closing the door behind him with his heel.

When Apollo lay Starbuck on the bed, he found himself pulled down next to
him. Starbuck rolled Apollo on his back, pulled his open pants off, and
spread his legs, kneeling between them. As he bent down, Apollo stopped
him. "You're too tired. It's okay."

Starbuck shook his head. "Everybody got me except the one person I love the
most."

"Troy didn't."

Starbuck stopped at that, considered, looked at the door, and shrugged.
"Next time. He's got Dillon."

"Next time?"

"If you all want to. I liked it. Never felt like this before. Like the
whole universe loves me." Having left Apollo speechless, Starbuck bent to
his work. When Apollo was panting, his whole body throbbing, Starbuck
stopped. He straightened and looked down into Apollo's querying eyes.
"'Pollo?" he asked almost shyly. "Come inside me. Please? I know it has to
feel wonderful. Everything else felt so good."

Apollo wanted to say no, or at least ask him if he was sure. But the look
on Starbuck's face wouldn't allow that. Neither would his pulsing cock,
which had grown even tighter and harder at the thought. Silently, he sat up
and lay Starbuck down on his back. At Starbuck's frown, he simply
whispered, "Wait. You'll see." He raised Starbuck's legs to his shoulders,
then laved his fingers in the plentiful pre-cum dripping onto the bed. He
took his time thoroughly preparing Starbuck watching the blue eyes go from
wary to amazed.

The first finger brought Starbuck the expected pain, but not in the
intensity or for the length of time he expected. A twinge that was gone as
soon as he relaxed. The second finger was additional pressure, but no pain.
He could feel himself being stretched slowly and it didn't hurt at all. The
third finger found his prostate and his whole body reacted to the surges of
pleasure coursing through it. His erection, which had begun with the first
finger's entry, didn't surprise him. He was trained to respond that way.
But when it began to ache from the sensations he was feeling, he became
amazed. Only 20 yahrens of punishment kept him from reaching for it to
relieve himself. Instead, he moaned aloud.

Apollo saw the aborted hand movement and leaned down to kiss his lover. He
removed his fingers and positioned his self-lubricated cock. "Now we get to
watch each other come," he murmured. He pressed in slowly, pleased to feel
Starbuck relax to give him entry. He kissed Starbuck and stroked his penis
as he slowly rocked in. Then he held still.

"You're filling me," Starbuck said in wonder. He rocked himself around the
stiff rod and brushed it against his prostate, eyes widening. "Please,
'Pollo, please."

Apollo nodded and moved in and out slowly, increasing in speed as he saw
neither fear nor pain on his lover's features. He reached between them and
stroked Starbuck's erection in time to his thrusts. He forced himself to
hold back, knowing this had to be completely pain-free for Starbuck.
Finally, Starbuck was thrusting in counterpoint to him. They rode together
rhythmically until Starbuck was incoherent with need. Then Apollo quickened
the pace bringing both of them to the edge and over.

Apollo pulled out and moved up to hold his trembling, sobbing lover.
Through his tears, Starbuck managed one word, "Love." It was enough. Apollo
understood. He held Starbuck until the tears and tremors ceased and
exhaustion brought sleep.

End