It was dark.

The words did nothing to convey the truth of the situation- the inky blackness pressed close about him like a second skin, the moist warm breeze smothering him with its slow movement, the smell- oh lords, yes, the smell. Like rotting garbage, or maybe a dead animal by the wayside- a faint hint of decay, of despair. The pervasive odor left a bad taste at the back of his mouth, one that he wondered if he'd ever get rid of.

There had been no warning, no chance at all to save himself from the sudden burst of electrical energy which had landed him on this putrescent planet. Just a sharp crackle, accompanied by a flare of mulitcolored sparks flickering and dancing across his control panel. Then nothing. His Viper, already damaged from a Cylon laser blast, had plunged through the spectacular cloud formations to land on this giant fracking mudball. His Viper was a complete write-off. There was no way he could see to salvage it- the little that hadn't broken up on entry had sunk into the mire somewhere in the darkness.

But none of that was the worst of the situation. Oh, no- none of that was very bad at all. Even the stench paled in comparison to what lay beside him in the dark... the unconscious body of Lieutenant Starbuck.

"I'll cover you, Captain," he'd said. "You're not hit that bad- don't worry, we'll make it back just fine." That voice, cheerful and cocky as always, had given him an anchor to cling to, a breath of hope in the bleak situation. He'd turned his damaged Viper back towards the Galactica, taking full advantage of the bulk of this planet to conceal him from Cylon scanners after he'd dropped out of the battle. That was when the electrical storm had reached out and grabbed his ship, shaking it like a daggit with a crawlie. It had taken Starbuck's craft as well, leaving his wingman spinning out of control in a useless hulk of metal. Only pure, blind luck had sent both ships to the surface on the same vector. He'd had to fight his way through the sulfurous mist and the clinging primordial ooze that passed for the surface of this place to find Starbuck, but it hadn't been impossible.

Once found, Starbuck presented a new problem. He was unconscious, although for no apparent reason. That was very frightening- the possibility of severe internal injuries raised its ugly head and leered at Apollo, mocking his helplessness. But what could he do? No medical equipment, no first aid kit or scanner or medteam- only himself and the wreckage of two Vipers.

So he did the only thing he could think of. He located a patch of ground that was firm enough to sit on without sinking, and hauled Starbuck over to it. It was a messy process, filled with much swearing and leaving them both liberally coated with the foul mud. Through it all, Starbuck lay limp and lifeless, so Apollo sometimes had to pause and check for a pulse. It was there, it was faint but steady and never failed, and it was also the only sign that the Lieutenant still clung to life.

Sudden worry seized Apollo, and he scrambled to find that elusive heartbeat once more in the darkness. It was there, the faint pulse of life beating in Starbuck's throat, at his wrists, promising that there was still hope. But his flesh was cold and clammy, despite the damp heat of the breeze. Apollo pulled his friend's body closer, holding him tightly. "Come on, Starbuck," he whispered, a startling sound in the darkness. "Don't you die on me. You can't do that. I won't let you."

He settled himself more comfortably against the rock behind him, with Starbuck in his arms. Sleep was out of the question. He couldn't possibly relax under the circumstances. Besides, what if Starbuck woke while he was asleep? No, it was better by far to remain awake. "I can't believe this, Bucko." This time, the sound of his own voice wasn't as startling. "Of all the fracking ridiculous things to have happen... and now, tell me, how the hell are you going to explain this one to Cassie? I know you and she had plans for tonight. 'Course, I don't give a damn if you miss out on your plans with Cassie. You're my best friend, and I want what's best for you, but come on- even I can see that she doesn't make you really happy. Sometimes I wonder what would. There was a time when I thought I might be able to make you happy, but you sure fixed that..."

His voice trailed off, into the pain of memory. It had been a warm spring day on Caprica. Damn, but that seemed like a long time ago now... Beautiful day, sun shining, avians twittering in every shrub. He and Starbuck had been out for a walk in the gardens of Fleet High Command, killing time before their review and reassignment. Starbuck, lighthearted as always, wanting to know what he'd do if they got seperate assignments. Himself, replying that even High Command knew better than to seperate them.

"You know, Pol," Starbuck had said, leaning in close and serious for a brief moment, "even if they tried, it wouldn't make any difference- you'd still be my best friend."

"Is that all? Just a best friend?" Then he'd stopped, heart in throat, because he'd never slipped up that badly before. Starbuck had smiled, raised a hand to touch him lightly on the cheek with a slight shake of the head.

"That's enough, isn't it?"

He knew, that much was obvious from the look in his eyes. He knew, but didn't return the feeling, and was trying to let his best friend down easy. Damn. Apollo had forced his face into an approximation of a smile, turned away murmuring something about how it was enough, who could want a better friend... and trying to bury the love he'd felt even then under layer after layer of self control and discipline.

"But I still love you, more now even than I did then," he whispered to the still form. He ran his fingers through Starbuck's hair, sticky and matted with mud from the struggle to reach this place earlier. "I wish you were mine, I wish..." He trailed off, unable to verbalize what he wanted, even to himself. It was more than just simple lust, although that was there in plenty. No, what he wanted was more than the carefree Lieutenant could ever give, even if he was interested in a romantic relationship. Somehow the thought of Starbuck making a lasting commitment to any one lover was simply ludicrous.

Starbuck moved.

"Starbuck! Wake up! Can you hear me? Come on, buddy, wake up..." Apollo shifted his grip on his friend, laying him back down on the ground so he could kneel over Starbuck's body. He checked the pulse again- definitely stronger. Starbuck groaned, a faint but welcome sound, and his head rolled to one side, a movement Apollo felt only because his hand was still on Starbuck's throat.

"Ow..."

"Starbuck! It's okay, I'm here, but you have to wake up all the way." Apollo hovered over his friend, unsure of what to do, but in an agony of impatience. Starbuck had to be okay, he just had to wake up all the way and say everything was fine, that he wasn't going to die and leave Apollo all alone...

"Apollo." Starbuck moved again, groped blindly through the blackness until his hand encountered Apollo. Then he tried to pull himself closer. "So tired... stay?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Bucko," Apollo replied. "How do you feel?"

"Tired... hold me..."

Apollo's heart pounded painfully at the request. He settled back against the rock and pulled Starbuck back into his arms. "There, I've got you now. I won't let you go. Now tell me, how do you feel? What's hurting?"

But there was no response, only a breathy sigh as Starbuck slid back into unconciousness.

Apollo released a deep breath that was almost a sob. He felt so helpless, so afraid... and almost worse than either the helplessness or the fear was the sharp stab of hope which had driven through him at those words. Hold me... Would that it were more than a simple request for comfort.

Thoughts chased themselves through his head, pointless wonderings and aimless musings. The stench of the atmosphere, having worked itself into the very fiber of his being, began to slip away into the background of his consciousness. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore, nothing but the still form of Starbuck in his arms.

The horizon began to lighten. Apollo stared towards the sunrise with eyes that burned and watered, although he didn't release his grip on Starbuck long enough even to wipe them. The all-pervasive yellow mist took on a nearly incandescent glow, allowing him to at last see the details of his friend's appearance.

Starbuck's face was masked in blood. Apollo cried out in horror, exploring Starbuck's face with hesitant fingers. The blood was coming from a split near the scalp- or had been. It was all old, dried. Apollo tried to tell himself that was a good sign, even as his fingers found the cause of the bleeding. Depressed skull fracture, the calmly analytical part of his brain announced, when his fingers encountered the caved in portion of his friend's skull.

"No," he whispered. He felt frantically- and futilely- for a pulse, for any hint that the only person who made life worth living hadn't just died in his arms, while he sat alone and helpless in the stinking moist darkness. There was nothing, not a trace or flicker. "No!"

Apollo moaned in agony. "Starbuck, no! You can't be, you just can't be dead!"

But there was no change. The body in his arms remained limp and lifeless. There was no pulse, no breath, no opening of cheerful eyes to laugh at him and tell him it was all a joke... nothing.

Apollo clutched the body to him, too bereft even for tears. A low moan escaped him...

...and he woke, to find the sun shining a handspan above the horizon, a hazily visible disk through the mist. The sound which had woken him was repeated.

"Apollo? Are you alright?"

"Starbuck!" He threw himself at his friend, clinging desperately. "You're alive, thank the lords, I thought you had died..."

Starbuck's arms crept slowly around him. "Easy, Pol- I'm still here. Is that what you were dreaming? You sounded awful."

"Sorry." Apollo fought to control himself, but the aftermath of the dream still clung to him. He, in turn, continued to cling to Starbuck, feeling the living, breathing warmth of the man with every ounce of his being. "Like I said, I thought you were dead-"

He broke away, to hunt obsessively through Starbuck's hair for any sign of the fracture which had killed him. Or... whatever. "You were dead, you had a severe fracture and it killed you-"

Starbuck laughed and caught his hands. "Hey, it's sweet that you're so concerned, but I'm okay. See? I'm not dead."

Apollo forcibly shook off the remaining horror of the dream. "Sorry." He sat back, ran a hand through his own hair, with a grimace for the dirt and greasiness brought about by a night spent in heat, humidity, and worry. He shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts. "Okay. You're alive." He looked at the Lieutenant, really looked at him this time, instead of seeing the overlay of the bloodied corpse from his dream. "You look remarkably good, considering that you just spent well over twelve centares completely unconscious. How do you feel?"

Starbuck grimaced. "Like I just got dragged facedown through a stinking hell," he admitted. "What happened, anyway? Last I remember, I was covering you on the way back to the Galactica."

"We ducked behind this planet to hide from the Cylons, figuring it would be safer that way- I had some major damage to my engines, and you were covering my ass, and then there was an electrical storm that sent us both down onto this foul slimeball of a planet. Thank the lords we were on the same vector- otherwise I never would have found you. Both Vipers were completely destroyed- most of mine sunk in the swampy muck out there, and yours did a nosedive into a hillside. I hauled you out and dragged you over here, since you wouldn't oblige me by waking up-"

"So that's how I got so muddy," Starbuck murmured. Even though he was obviously not feeling his best, he still kept his sense of humor.

"Yeah. Then I sat down here beside you and waited for something to happen. You kind of woke up once, do you remember?"

"Almost- I remember trying to sit up, and hearing your voice, but not much else..."

Apollo doubted that. He could see the faint hint of embarrassment in those blue eyes, the awareness that he knew he'd been helpless and vulnerable, in need of comfort. "Anyway," he said, glossing over the issue, "I guess I fell asleep after you passed out again. You know the rest."

"Yeah, I guess I do..." Starbuck shrugged, looked away, then snuck a sideways glance at Apollo. "I woke up on the ground, with the sun in my eyes and the most godawful reek in my nose, and you beside me moaning like a lost soul."

"Very poetic, Bucko." Apollo grimaced. "Yeah- well, see how you feel if you think you're holding my dead body, all covered in blood."

Starbuck reached out a hesitant hand. "Apollo..."

"Yeah?" He tried to blink away the tears which had sprung to his eyes at the memory of the dream, then decided he didn't give a damn anymore and scrubbed his hand across his eyes.

Starbuck caught at his arm. Apollo looked up at him, there in the early morning light- muddy and disheveled, but alive, and looking at him with an earnest, pleading expression. Apollo shifted on the ground until he was more comfortable and waited.

"I know I-" Starbuck stopped, swallowed. Apollo raised a questioning eyebrow. "Look, I know you- care about me, feel things for me, and-"

He broke off and shifted awkwardly. His hand fell away from Apollo's arm and he looked down. "Did I tell you I had plans with Cassie last night?"

Apollo blinked at the sudden shift in subject. "Yes, why?" He was pleased that his voice remained steady. He felt anything but steady inside, after the dream and then having Starbuck bring up something they'd tacitly agreed not to mention.

"I was going to break up with her."

"Oh." There wasn't much he could say to that.

"And I was going to..." Starbuck swallowed, looked back at Apollo with an open, vulnerable look in his eyes. "I was going to see if maybe you still cared about me that way."

Apollo's eyebrows flew up nearly to his hairline. "You think that kind of thing could ever go away?"

"I was hoping- I mean, I know I never handled it well, but-" Starbuck broke off, flustered. "Damn. I'm still not handling this well, am I? At least I can blame it on this incredibly awful headache. I think there's a Cylon in my head, dancing on top of whatever's left of my brain."

Apollo smiled. "You mean, you have a brain left in there for the Cylon to dance on?"

"Cute, Pol- very funny. But really, what I was trying to say and doing such a bad job of, is that there's only been one person on my mind lately, and it isn't Cassie. All I can think about, all I can dream about- it's all you, Apollo, and it's driving me fracking nuts."

"Well." Apollo sat back, leaning on one hand for support. "Now that's an interesting development. I'm not sure how to handle this, Bucko."

The uncertain look was back in Starbuck's eyes. "Why? What's wrong? Don't you... don't you care anymore?"

Apollo laughed. "Of course I care, you idiot- but I care too much. How am I supposed to deal with the possibility that you'll freak out and run on me?"

Starbuck tilted his head to the side, then winced. He rubbed his head, eyes closed, before responding. "Look- if it's any help, I've been thinking about this for a long time now. I've been trying to figure out what I want, and every time, the answer comes out to be you. I think about spending my life with Cassie, and I get a panic attack that makes me want to run fast and far. I think about spending my life with you, and I get a feeling of comfort and security." Starbuck sighed. "Look- I'm making a fool out of myself. Maybe I'd better just shut up and leave it alone. I'll be your best friend forever... why not, I expected you to ignore love in favor of friendship. Serves me right."

He turned away, scooting on the ground until he faced into the sunrise, away from Apollo, who just sat there in stunned disbelief.

All those yahrens, he'd wanted to hear Starbuck say something like this, all those yahrens of smothered longing and nearly dead hope. And now, Starbuck had said what he'd longed to hear all those yahrens, had admitted to feeling a love for Apollo that went beyond mere friendship, so what did he do? He sat there, like a bump on a log. Like Starbuck's offer of love meant nothing to him. An inane whisper ran through his head- be careful what you ask for, you just might get it... Well, he finally had what he'd wanted, and it was terrifying. Exhilirating, but terrifying.

"Starbuck." His voice was nothing but a pathetic croak. He swallowed and tried again. "Starbuck. If you've finally decided that you love me, then what the hell are you doing over there?"

Starbuck stiffened, then turned slowly, a question in his eyes. Apollo smiled, a hesitant, yet eager little smile. "Um... waiting for you to decide if you want this beat-up old colonial warrior?"

Apollo's smile grew. "What's to decide? Of course I want you. Always have, haven't I? And you're not old."

"Feel like I am," Starbuck grunted. He maneuvered himself carefully back to Apollo's side. "Feel like hell, in fact."

"Poor baby..." Apollo looked at him for a long moment, drinking in the sight of the beloved features. He raised a hand to trace the lines of Starbuck's face, fearing that this was a dream too, that he would wake up for real and find Starbuck still unconscious on the ground beside him. Or worse yet, that Starbuck really was dead, and this was only a wishful fantasy of what might have been... "So tell me, you going to regret this little confession of yours when we get back home?"

Starbuck leaned into the gentle pressure of his fingers. "Maybe. But not likely, not if things go as well as I think they will."

Apollo's fingers traced down the side of Starbuck's face, curved around the back of his neck. He didn't miss the small sound of pleasure Starbuck made. He leaned closer, eyes half closed. Then he threw the last of his caution and misgivings to the winds and kissed the other man.

It wasn't much, as far as kisses went- gentle and undemanding, not the earth-shattering passion he'd always imagined. But it was a promise of more to come, a soft brush of lips against lips, and it was real. Not a dream, not his imagination, but real- it was really Starbuck there, in his arms, who was now pressing closer and kissing him hungrily, as though his life depended on it- fire of lust burning insistently in him, almost painful joy unfolding at the touch of those lips, the first taste of that tongue, the answering passion in the man he'd dreamed about for so many yahrens.

Apollo pulled back with an effort. "Starbuck- this isn't the place, or the time-"

"Why not?" Starbuck's breath came in ragged gasps, and his eyes glittered feverishly bright.

"Well, for one thing, this place stinks," Apollo replied, with a wrinkle of his nose. "But seriously, you're hurt. We need to get back to the Galactica, and we need to get cleaned up."

"Damn, Pol," Starbuck sighed, then leaned against him. "I've wanted to do that for a long time. I finally get my hands on you, and can't do anything- you're right, I still feel like hell. Any hint of how long it will be before someone comes looking for us?"

Apollo checked his chrono. "Actually, they should be looking now. In fact, I'm surprised they haven't come for us already."

"That's fine by me, though." Starbuck twined his fingers through Apollo's. "I kind of like the thought of being here alone with you for a while."

"Me too. In fact, I really like the thought of being alone with you, especially since you're still alive."


The rescue party found them just like that, a few centares later. Side by side, leaned up against the large rock, holding hands... and both sound asleep.

The fuss of the team's arrival roused them both, and they were herded back to the Galactica, where both were sent to the Life Center. Apollo went along with what he was told to do, feeling rather dazed and not entirely certain he hadn't dreamed the events on the planet. He was pronounced fit for duty after a quick examination, and was dismissed to make his report. This task he accomplished at high speed, then escaped to his quarters, where he spent nearly a centare in the turbowash, scrubbing the reek of the primordial planet from his hide. Once he felt somewhat more presentable, he emerged from the wash and located a clean uniform and some food. Only then did he allow himself to check on the status of Lieutenant Starbuck.

He wasn't in the Life Center, which was a good sign. Apollo made his way slowly to the barracks, afraid of what he would find. He was certain that now, back amid familiar surroundings and normality, Starbuck would act as though nothing had ever happened on the surface of that planet. By the time Apollo reached the barracks, he'd worked himself into such a state of nervous tension that at first he didn't comprehend the significance of Starbuck's empty bed. Then it sunk in, and he stood there, blinking stupidly. Starbuck wasn't there. He wasn't in the Life Center, and he wasn't in his bed, where he undoubtedly belonged. So where in hells was he?

"Yo, battlestar to Apollo- anyone in there?"

Boomer's voice shook him out of his daze.

"What's up, Boomer?" He continued to stare at Starbuck's empty bed.

"Oh, nothing- I was just trying to get your attention for the last few centons. Starbuck left a message for you."

Apollo turned towards Boomer so quickly that he nearly lost his balance. "Well? Spit it out, man- what is it?"

"He said he had some business to take care of, then he would drop by your quarters. Something up? You sure are acting weird."

But Boomer found he was talking to an empty room, because Apollo was already on his way to his quarters as fast as he could go without actually running.

Starbuck was there. He'd had the lock code for the door for a very long time, so Apollo wasn't surprised to find him inside. What was surprising was that Starbuck was in the turbowash. Apparently, he hadn't wanted to use the communal one in the barracks- not that Apollo could blame him for that, as it was much nicer to have a private wash.

So Apollo settled down in his favorite chair to wait. Starbuck seemed to be taking an inordinately long time in there. Apollo turned on the vid and started flipping through channels. As usual, there was nothing good on. When would IFB ever produce some kind of quality programming? Probably never... Apollo put down the remote and tried to find some interest in the historical program, but at this point, he really didn't care about the struggles of the early colonists.

Starbuck finally emerged from the washroom, clean and wrapped in a fuzzy robe. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." Apollo was nervous as hell, but he still couldn't keep the goofy grin from his face. "What's up?"

"Nothing, yet." Starbuck smiled. "Well- would you look at that! You blush so prettily, Captain."

"Yeah, well, whatever." Apollo tried to will his face to cool off. It didn't work. Starbuck's comment had been so... enticing, so casually erotic, that it made him hot all over. Apparently, his fears were unfounded after all. He rose and went to look at Starbuck critically. "So what did they say? You look much better."

"I'm fine. The doctor said I was just suffering from electrical overload, that I was out for so long becase my body couldn't handle the effects of that storm. I guess I got it worse than you did."

"I guess so." Apollo reached out and took Starbuck's hands, then stood there looking at him awkwardly. "Um... Boomer said you had to take care of some business?"

"Yeah- with Cassie. It's official now. I mean, we never really had anything exclusive going on with each other, but now it's for real- there's nothing."

"For real?" Apollo smiled. "This is all for real?"

Starbuck returned the smile, eyes reflecting quiet joy and anticipation. "Apollo... Yes. This is for real. As long as you want me, then I'm yours."

Starbuck drew Apollo closer, into a tight embrace. Apollo shivered, then pressed his lips to Starbuck's. "Forever?" he whispered, still doubtful.

"Forever," Starbuck replied. Liquid fire trailed along Apollo's veins. He slipped his hands under Starbuck's robe, pulling him close and exploring the beauty of Starbuck's body for the first time. Lips met and parted like silk, sending a wave of unbearable passion through Apollo.

"Are you sure you're okay for this?" he whispered, taking the opportunity to lick and suck an earlobe.

Starbuck moaned. "Apollo... I've been waiting for this for a long time now. Of course I'm okay. A little tired, but something tells me you're not going to mind if I want to drag you off to the bed about now..."

"Mind? Hell no, I don't mind." Apollo followed in a haze of pleasurable anticipation.

They fell together on the bed, kissing passionately. Starbuck's hands tore frantically at Apollo's uniform, trying to reach the flesh beneath. Apollo helped him, scrambling out of his clothing without breaking off the kiss. It was every bit as good as he'd dreamed- better, in fact, because it was real. He quit trying to think, and simply felt- the delicious sensation of Starbuck's tongue licking at his lips, the hands grasping at him with insistent hunger, the heat and hardness of the dick pressed up against his side... It was all real. It was Starbuck, here in his arms, pressing up against him with a need that equalled his own. He nibbled and licked his way down the strong column of Starbuck's neck, slid his tongue along the collarbone. Starbuck moaned.

Apollo was consumed by the need to lick, to taste, to suck... He worked his way to a nipple. Starbuck's gasp and moan of pleasure sent a tingle coursing through him. He transferred his attention to the other nipple, then teased both of them with his fingers while he moved lower with urgent haste. Starbuck moaned and writhed beneath him, hands tangled in his hair.

Apollo paused for a moment to look at Starbuck, this incredible man who had finally given himself to Apollo in love. He was beautiful, every inch of him. Apollo stroked him teasingly, all around his straining cock, but couldn't handle his own teasing. He had to have it now, had to taste it, to feel it in his mouth- he plunged down, and Starbuck let out a sharp gasp when Apollo's mouth enfolded the head.

Apollo nearly came when he felt the hot hard dick in his mouth. It tasted wonderful, and it was hard and thick and... Apollo licked and sucked, while Starbuck moaned beneath him. Then he couldn't handle anymore, or he would lose it- he let Starbuck slide from his mouth and worked his way back up, pressing himself against Starbuck as he did so. When he reached Starbuck's nipples with his tongue, he felt hands grasp his ass, with nails digging in, a sensation that bordered on painful but only served to excite him further. Then his hard dick was straining against Starbuck's, and they were kissing again, kisses interrupted by pants and moans as they strained against each other. Starbuck's hand slipped around to grasp Apollo firmly, and he cried out, a hoarse yell, as he came. He was dimly aware, somewhere through the fiery pinwheels of pleasure consuming him, of Starbuck's spurting orgasm and equally hoarse cry.

They collapsed together, unmoving, sticky, and spent. Apollo slid sideways, so he was no longer on top of Starbuck, and was caught by trembling hands.

"Don't go!"

"Shh, I'm not going anywhere- just thought you might like to breathe." He rested his head on Starbuck's shoulder, totally drained and nearly asleep.

"Oh- that's okay, then."

Starbuck sounded like he was nearly asleep, as well. Apollo gave in to the urge and drifted off, secure and content in Starbuck's arms.

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