FIC TITLE: Reassurance
Archiving-The Fallout Shelter, Apollo/Starbuck Fan Fic, All others please ask!
Disclaimers-Unfortunately, I don't own any of these characters, and make absolutely no profit from taking them out to play…
Summary-It was easy, too easy. She found herself drawn to him again and again, no matter how hard she fought the compulsion. And he never said no; he never asked for more than she gave; he always left her feeling…loved.
Just a drabble as I try out a new pairing for me. Not entirely comfortable with it yet, but that's part of the fun!!! As always, comments are appreciated.
The first time it happened, Helo and Starbuck had been drunk and lonely. The fall festival planet-side was a family affair, and neither one had a family left to speak of. So they stayed on board, giving those with close family a chance to see them, and then stayed up much too late drinking together to forget how alone they were. Stumbling back to their bunkroom, every inch a drunken sailor, Kara lost her footing and fell into Karl, pushing him unexpectedly into his rack and tumbling on top of him. Breathless with the laughter of the drunk, amused beyond reason, they found their mouths a brush away from a kiss as the humor died. It was barely a thought before Kara- it was always Kara- pressed her lips to his.
There was a moment in time when this could have taken a much different path, but the warmth and desperation in Kara's kisses quickly sealed their fate. Helo could no more turn her down than ask her himself. He had been half in love with Kara the minute they had met; he had also recognized that he would never survive a relationship with her. So he contented himself with the friendship they established and the snippets in time she allowed him closer. He decided at that first encounter that he would always be there if she asked him.
A pattern began to emerge by the fourth or fifth time. Kara would seek him out when she needed reassurance- of her skill as a pilot, of her ability as a Colonial officer, of her beauty as a woman, of her worth as a human being. Something would knock Kara or Starbuck on her ass, stun her out of the charmed life she seemed to live, and she would turn to Helo. He could tell when it would happen, usually after a few drinks. It got so that he could read when she teetered on the edge of it, the desire flaring up but not needing to be slaked. He observed, but didn't push; he waited calmly for her, no matter who he was with at the time. Sex with Kara was beyond the bounds of any monogamous relationship he was a part of; it existed unique and isolated from the rest of his existence. It was part and parcel of his friendship with, his understanding of, Kara Thrace.
The first time she came to him stone cold sober, crawling into his rack after a long shift, he simply held her through most of the night. When her mouth found his and became desperate, sometime near dawn, he turned to her and acted as her touchstone, holding her to the here and now and allowing her to forget the past and what ifs. It was unspoken, no words or fevered exclamations. Simply the act alone. Only Helo, he knew, could do this for her. Only he accepted her and understood her for what she was. Even on Caprica, after Sharon, when she taunted him with epithets like toaster-lover as she rode him, he never said no.
Stinking of ambrosia and another man's musk, her clothing askew, Kara had pulled open his rack curtain and climbed in without waiting for him to fully wake. Offering a share of her bottle, she had lay down next to him, his strong arm acting as a pillow. Muttering about uppity nuggets and men who talk too much when they should be frakking, Kara settled down with him. She was drunk, and unhappy. He knew that she would lean in and plaster herself against him any minute now, and for once-
He didn't want her to.
And yet he did. He had Sharon now, at least partially. He could talk to her in her cell, but he could never enter it. His body ached for Sharon's, to take her while her belly was swollen with his child; to taste the faint sweetness of her breath as he kissed her. Machine or no, no woman- even Kara Thrace- could now replace Sharon in his heart. His body was another story; for the first time, Karl felt wrong taking whatever Kara would give him, because he no longer had anything to give her in return. The emotion was now gone from the physical act; it was nothing but a frak. Everything for him was Sharon now. So he said, quietly yet firmly, as he gently pushed her away and straightened her clothing, "No."
He would never forget the look on her face as she staggered away, more stunned then hurt, he hoped.