Hungry Zombies, Led by Helo's and Dee's Love Child, Eat Lee Adama or Helo and Lee Have No Pants
Rating: I have no frakking idea, but there's no sex, so take that as you will
Disclaimer: OMG! This is so totally not my idea. Or my fault! dies
Participants: Helo, Lee, Dee, Deelo (What? Remember the part where it's not my fault? Okay, maybe that's a little bit my fault snerk), lots of hungry zombies
Spoilers: You're kidding, right? (actually, there are probably some s3 spoilers, but only for the episodes already aired in the U.S.)
Author's note: This may just teach me not to ask for prompts when I'm bored. thinks Probably not. I'm a slow learner. :P
The salt ceremony was long over, but everyone was still on Galactica – Lee, Dee, Helo, Racetrack, Kat, the Old Man, everybody who was anybody in what was left of the Colonial Fleet. Frak. If the Cylons had half a brain, decent intel and a nuke, it'd be the end of the war, right there. Luckily, Tigh's resistance had them hopping on New Caprica (stupid name for a planet, anyway – what the frak were they thinking? Yeah, let's name our new home after a nuclear wasteland) so it was okay for everybody to just hang out on a dying battlestar.
Lee Adama continued through the corridors of the Bucket on his way to the galley to grab a snack for the flight back to the Beast. He was about out of pork rinds. The lights flickered randomly and the corridor he was in at the moment smelled musty. Speaking of smells…
"What the frak is that?" He wrinkled his nose as a sickly sweet odor invaded his airspace. "Good going, Dad. Way to kill a man's appetite."
He rounded a corner and stopped dead. The sweet smell was gone, leaving only dust in its wake, but that wasn't what made him stop. At the other end of the corridor, Helo stood in his skivvies and Dee had what appeared to be the man's pants draped across one arm. Before Lee had a chance to say anything, Dee angrily whispered to Helo, "I can't believe you said that in front of all the pilots!"
"Now, honey, calm down." The sound of Helo calling Dee "honey" made Lee fade back around the corner to listen. Why the frak was that toaster lover talking to his wife and not wearing any trousers? He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of his few remaining pork rinds, then popped it into his mouth.
"Don't you 'honey, calm down' me, mister. Telling me to take care of our son? In front of everyone?" Lee nearly choked on the rind.
"But I said 'take care of his son!'" Helo protested. "You told me to take care of the Admiral!"
"Oh, no you didn't, Karl Agathon. You clearly told me to take care of our son. No one's supposed to know about us! I've been so careful to never even be in the same room with you, until today."
"Well, except for that one night…" Helo sounded awfully smug to Lee. "And there was that time in—"
Dee cut him off with a hiss and Lee imagined her looking around to make sure no one else was there, lurking in the shadows. He sniffed. There was that smell again. He made a mental note as he downed another rind to mention cleaning out Galactica's air ducts the next time he met with his father.
"Baby, I'm sure I said 'his' son…" But he didn't sound sure at all, not to Lee. Then again, the blood roared through his ears loud enough that he couldn't be sure what he heard. He frowned. Wait a minute. That wasn't his blood, it was whispering. And that smell was getting stronger…
"Fine. Whatever." Dee's words were followed by the staccato beat of her heels on the deck as she stalked away.
"Hey! Wait a minute!" Helo shouted after her.
The click of her footsteps stopped. "What?" she snapped.
"If I'm not gettin' any after all, can I have my pants back?"
And that was when all hell broke loose.
The smell had worked its way up to an all-out stench. Lee realized that it came from behind him and turned in time to see half a dozen or so… zombies? Holy, frak! Zombies! And they were right behind him, stinking up the place, led by what looked to be an infant, crawling at ramming speed, headed right for him.
Up the corridor, Helo said, "Do you smell that?"
"Yeah." Dee sounded disgusted. Tell me about it, Lee thought. "What is it?"
"I don't know, but whatever it is, it's worse than what Starbuck had in her fridge back on Caprica."
And then something grabbed at Lee's hem and held on. He looked down. The baby – who had Dee's eyes – had his trouser leg clenched in one chubby fist. Before he could move, though, one of the zombies grabbed at his pants and then another. He pulled roughly away, shouting incoherently, feeling a little nauseous when he saw the slime their hands left behind on his uniform. "Oh, Gods…"
"Did you hear that?" Helo asked.
"Lee?" Dee said, simultaneously.
"Oh, frak. Gimme my pants, woman."
Lee tried frantically to disengage from the baby and the zombies, but no joy. So he did the only thing he could think of – he unbuckled his belt, ditched the trousers, and ran up the corridor toward Dee and Helo. "Get out of here!"
At the sight of the zombies, led by the baby with her eyes, Dee just stopped. "Deelo?"
"What?" Lee asked.
"You named him 'Deelo?'" Helo asked, sounding appalled.
"It's just until the naming ceremony," Dee answered.
"Lee, man, where are your pants?"
With a quick look at Helo's bare legs, Lee responded, "Don't worry about my pants. Dee, give the man his pants and let's get outta here."
"We can't leave Deelo with zombies!" Dee shouted, outraged. "Helo, get our son!"
"Um, about that, Apollo…"
The wave of zombie stench rolled over them as the group came closer, still led by the baby, who appeared to be in no danger and was, in fact, enjoying himself immensely. Lee could just make out the words the zombies whispered, "Mmm… We want the arms of Apollo. Yummy, yummy arms…"
"Deelo, baby, come to mama." Dee held out her arms. "Tell your friends bye-bye, sweetie, it's time to go home."
Helo stared at Dee like she was insane.
The zombies shuffled ever closer.
Lee wondered why the frak he was still here.
"I have an idea!" Helo shouted. "C'mon!"
"I am not leaving Deelo!" Dee shouted.
Lee looked back and forth between Helo, halfway down the corridor and Dee, standing with her arms crossed over her chest. The smell was starting to make his eyes water and he really, really wanted to follow Helo. But there was his wife, standing right there. He knew her, she wouldn't budge without that baby.
"Fine." Lee looked back toward the shuffling zombies, who still muttered about the arms of Apollo. Gods, this was embarrassing. The baby moved much more quickly than the undead. Lee made a break for the kid. Grabbing Deelo under his arm pits, he almost fell when he slid in zombie ooze – oh my gods, was that an arm? – but managed to keep his balance. He ran back toward Dee and the two of them ran after Helo as fast as they could manage.
They wound up in the ready room, all the furniture pushed up against the walls and there was still salt all over the floor. He looked at Helo. "Why are we here? There's only one exit, genius."
Helo looked unsure of himself for a second, but then his expression cleared. "We got to gather up the salt and..." He looked around the room, a little wild-eyed. "And water," he pronounced as his eyes came to rest on an abandoned water bottle.
"Salt and water?" Dee asked, skeptical. She rolled her eyes and reached for Deelo, who had begun to squirm in Lee's arms.
"Yeah, zombies hate that."
"Say what?" Lee asked, more than a little skeptical himself. Had Helo lost his mind?
"Sharon and I used to pass the time by telling each other ghost stories back on Caprica." Helo shrugged and crouched down to scoop up salt.
Dee snorted. "I'll bet you passed the time with ghost stories."
"Well, maybe we did other things to pass the time, too..." Helo allowed. "One of the old legends, myths, whatever, that Sharon told said that you could poison a zombie with salt." He looked thoughtful for a minute. "Or was that season 'em with salt? No, no, definitely poison."
"You sure she wasn't talking about slugs?" Lee asked.
"You know, laying a line of salt around a garden to keep the slugs... out... You know what? Never mind."
"Take off your uniform jacket," Helo ordered Lee.
"What?" He looked again between Helo, who concentrated mostly on gathering salt, and Dee, who looked speculatively at Helo. "Why?"
"The zombies seem obsessed with your arms, Apollo. We're going to use 'em as bait."
Lee opened his mouth to reply to that, but he couldn't seem to find any words. His mouth opened and closed, his jaw moved, but no sound came out.
Dee just plain laughed. But then she said, as something heavy hit the hatch, "Do it, Lee."
"Um, why don't we just draw another salt line in front of the door?"
"Because," Helo replied, "we want to kill the frakkers so we can get out of here, not hang out here and starve to death waiting for 'em to leave."
"Oh." He watched as Helo grabbed the water bottle and headed back over to Lee. Eyes narrowed suspiciously, Lee asked, "So what's the water for?"
"We get your arms wet and then rub salt on 'em."
"I don't think so, Captain."
"C'mon, Lee. It's the only way."
"According to a fairy tale told by a Cylon!"
"It was really a good story, Lee."
"Um, boys?" Dee's voice was a little bouncy from bouncing the baby in her arms. "We have guests..."
They both looked toward the hatch in unison. It was no longer closed and the opening was filled with putrescent, rotting undead, all whispering about the arms of Apollo. It wouldn't be long before one of them managed to push into the room and then they would all be able to push into the room.
Lee shrugged off his uniform jacket and looked at Helo, who began to shake water on Lee's arms. "You're sure this is going to work?"
"Hell, no. But I'd rather they gnaw on you than me."
Lee glared. Helo shrugged and handed him the salt. "Fine." Lee rubbed salt onto his wet arms, feeling ridiculous. Dee just sat on a table and bounced Deelo on her knee - no help there. "Paybacks are a bitch, Agathon."
Crusted with salt, Lee sauntered over to the open hatch, holding his breath. "Come and get it, boys and girls. I got your arms of Apollo, right here."
"Lee, man, try to just take 'em on one at a time," Helo advised, now sitting on the table next to Dee, dividing his attention between the baby and zombies.
Taking that advice to heart, Lee made sure he only got within range of one zombie. It reached out and grabbed his hand, then tried to take a chunk out of his arm, but as soon as the salt hit its tongue, it collapsed in a stinking heap on the deck. Another zombie grabbed at Lee's arm. The same thing happened. Lee began to breathe a little easier, or he would have, had he not been holding his breath. Thank the Gods zombies are stupid, he thought as the same fate met the third undead creature.
The last zombie fell apart at the taste of the salt on Lee's arms and he turned to Helo and Dee, holding Deelo between them. Helo was making goofy faces at the baby. "So. Helo. Anastacia. You were saying about that baby?"