Together

by Rita (mommacita1@juno.com)

Rating: maybe R, maybe just PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just like to play with them.

Summary:  Last night hubby and I watched two of our current cats acting as
if they were possessed by the souls of our two original pets, both long
departed.  My cat, Isis, did something totally out of character: he
reached up with one paw and pulled my hand - the one holding a forkful of
gingerbread and whipped cream - down so that he could eat it.  He did this
quite confidently although he'd never done it before;  in fact, the only
cat we've ever known to do that was my first cat, Mephisto, who would pull
down spoons full of cereal from our friend TS.  Then Joel's cat, Comet,
lying and waiting for Isis to finish so that he could see if there were
"leftovers", began inching forward almost invisibly - front paws, then
back paws, rest, front paws, back paws, rest.  The animal that used to do
that whenever a "stay" command lasted too long was our first dog, a
miniature poodle named Brownie.  This was just around midnight and it was
eerie to say the least. Our conversation drifted to possession, with my
husband, noting that Isis and Mephisto were both black cats and Comet was
basically the same size and shape as Brownie, ending the conversation
with, "How would we know?"  Well, little things would give it away,
right?  Hence, this story was still with me this morning. Enjoy!

Archive: Yes, please!

"You made your choice,
Now it's up to me
To bow out gracefully.
... But if you ever need me,
I'll be there."
        - Fragment of 50s Motown song,
                Author unknown

Starbuck stood at casual attention, an affectionate smile on his face, and
watched Adama sealing Sheba and Apollo.  As Apollo's groomsman, he offered
the ritual objects, carefully following Adama's direction.  At the end of
the ceremony, when Adama turned and announced the newly united couple to
the masses, he led the procession that confirmed and witnessed the
binding.  He gave the first toast, offered his hand to Sheba in the first
dance, and then placed that hand in Apollo's.  Then he disappeared from
the celebration.

Tigh smiled when Apollo asked where his best friend had gone.  "Long range
patrol.  He'll be off our sensors for at least another secton. He told me
to tell you it was his gift to you, Apollo."

Apollo flashed a tight smile back at Tigh.  He had wanted to make up for
neglecting Starbuck during his final courtship of Sheba and the flurry of
events that had culminated in his secton-long retreat to a luxury suite on
the Rising Star.

Sheba had even encouraged it, grinning as she admonished, "Now, I don't
mind your coming home broke and reeking of ambrosa and fumerellos.  But if
you smell of cheap perfume and sex, you'll have a lot of explaining to do,
so you'd better have Starbuck teach you how to fast-talk your way out of
trouble, too."

He'd wondered privately how she would react to his smelling of expensive
after-shave and sex instead, but didn't voice the question.  Some things
were better left unsaid.  Now, the smile died on his lips as Tigh's words
brought back similar ones in Starbuck's voice, "Consider it a wedding
present."  He tried to convince himself that the raised hairs on his neck
and sudden emptiness in the pit of his stomach were nonsense. 'After all,'
he reminded himself, 'He came back the last time he went off like this.'
But another, more cynical voice inside his head replied, 'At least he
waited until *after* the sealing this time.'  The thought did nothing to
comfort him or make the coldness in his soul go away.

Secton grew to sectare, sectare to quarton.  Sheba stopped trying to
comfort her mate and eventually stopped keeping him company in his lonely
vigils in the observation dome.  Finally, Apollo had to agree: it was time
to organize a memorial service.  As the warriors of Blue Squadron gathered
to remember the cocky pilot, Core Communications received an anonymous
incoming message: Starbuck would be found on a planetoid a few kilometrons
back and just slightly out of the Fleet's path.  Although its origin was
untraceable through the maze of routings it had passed through on its
journey to the Galactica, it had the incontrovertible signature of Cylon
communication.

Starbuck was found.  After sensors assured Adama that there was no trap
awaiting them, he allowed Apollo to take a shuttle back to planetoid.
Uncharacteristically, Sheba offered to accompany him and, equally out of
character, Apollo accepted her offer.  Following the message's directions,
they flew to the small continent near the equator of the planetoid.
There, lying like a broken doll where he fell, lay Starbuck.  As Apollo
crumpled beside him, Sheba felt a strange shiver go through her, as though
the air had gotten thicker around her and invaded her very bones.  The
feeling passed and she stepped behind Apollo, putting her hands on his
shoulders and squeezing in an unfamiliar manner, but one that made his
head jerk up. He turned to look at her.

For a moment Apollo's eyes showed no recognition and his brows came
together in a frown.  Then the blank look cleared and he smiled sadly.
"Let's take him home, Sheba."

***

Sheba was there while he mourned, quietly supporting him, demanding
nothing in return. Sometimes it seemed that the arms that held him when he
cried were stronger than a woman's, but he chastised himself for
fantasizing.  Sheba was a warrior, one who kept up with her training at
that, so of course her arms would be strong.  Slowly, he stopped turning
to her for comfort and began turning to her in love, love that was
returned with a feverishness and vigor he did not recall from their
previous times together.  But surely that was because his mind was now
fully on the person in his arms, not divided between her and his worry and
grief for his best friend.

Life returned to what passed for normal aboard the Galactica.  Almost a
yahren after Starbuck's passing, the Fleet approached a planetary system,
devoid of higher lifeforms, but with several planets suitable for
habitation.  Exploring one of the planets, Boomer and Sheba were trapped
together in a cavern by fierce storms.  As they huddled together for
warmth, Boomer and Sheba each felt a strange shiver go through them.

To Sheba it felt gnawingly familiar, something she had experienced before,
but she shrugged it off as deja vue.  She hugged herself as she felt a
sudden coldness, as though a layer of insulation had been removed from her
body all at once.  Then she shook her head to clear it.  Had she fallen
asleep? She looked at Boomer and knew exactly where she was.  There seemed
to be no time loss.  She shrugged off the feeling of sudden awakening.

Boomer it felt as though the air had gotten thicker around him and invaded
his very bones.  He looked over at Sheba who seemed somewhat disoriented.
Protectively, he strode to the cavern entrance and assessed their
situation.  The storm seemed to be abating.

A concerned Apollo greeted them on their return to Galactica.  Hopping out
of her viper, Sheba found herself enveloped in a bear hug. She dutifully
returned the hug and kissed Apollo on the cheek, then disentangled
herself.  "Better get to Decon," she mumbled. It was like waking from a
dream.  She *remembered* the past year, but there were no emotions
attached to those memories.

Apollo looked after her with a little confusion, then turned to Boomer to
ask what had delayed them.  Before he could phrase the question, Boomer
smirked and said, "What?  No hug for me?  Didn't you miss me, too?"  Both
men looked equally surprised at the words that came out of his mouth.
Then Boomer broke the awkward silence with a slap on Apollo's shoulder.
"So, what's been happening while I've been gone?" he asked.  But even
those words came out in a jaunty tone that sounded more like their
departed friend than like Boomer.

Boomer and Sheba found themselves swapped shifts so often that Tigh
finally officially reassigned them: Boomer became Apollo's wingman and
Sheba returned to her old friend and wingman, Bojay.  All four seemed
content with the change, even though it meant Apollo and Sheba spent
virtually no time together.

***

Apollo had returned early from patrol, laughing at one of Boomer's antics
- his mischievousness now seemed quite nnormal.  His laughter died on his
lips as he entered *their* quarters to find his mate and her wingman
intimately involved.  "Get out!" he had screamed, throwing their clothes
at them to keep himself from drawing his laser pistol.  They had complied
as quickly as they could.

Later, he and Sheba had discussed it rationally, calmly.  Sheba no longer
loved him, it was as simple as that.  She packed her belongings, trying to
explain as much to herself as to Apollo.  "I do care for you, you know.
But I think I was trying to distance myself from all things Pegasus and
you - you were trying to get over..."

'Starbuck, because it would have been too difficult for two men,
especially when one was the Commander's son,' Apollo thought bitterly.

"Serina's death," Sheba finished.  "I guess we were both on the rebound."

Apollo nodded, not really hearing her.  He was lost in thoughts of his
true love.

"I'm sorry, Apollo," Sheba whispered from the door.  "Something ...
something isn't there between us anymore.  It's funny," she reflected.
"It *was* for a while.  I know it was more than just rebound.  But it
didn't last.  And it doesn't feel like it was really me and you."

Apollo had thought he was done crying.  But now he sat in his quarters -
his, not "theirs" and, once again, mourned Starbuck.  "You would have been
mine, all I had to do was say the word," he grieved.  "But I wouldn't take
the risk of censure."  He threw his head back and howled, "But you said
you'd be there when I needed you!  Where are you now?  I need you!"  His
head dropped back into his hands and he sobbed.

The door slid open silently.  "I'm right here, 'Pol," said a soft voice.

Apollo's head shot up as the unmatched voice and tone startled him.
"Boomer? Starbuck?" he asked seeing one, but sure he had heard the other.

"Both," the dark man confirmed, holding out his arms.  Apollo rushed into
them and let himself be enveloped by their warmth.  "I never left. Sheba
couldn't accept me.  But Boomer welcomes me."

The three men in two bodies knew they were finally where they belonged,
together.