"Happy New Yahren!"

The cry from dozens of throats heralded yet another new arrival. Starbuck didn't even bother to look, because he knew it wasn't Apollo.

"Hey hey, Bucko! Happy New Yahren!" Boomer clapped him on the shoulder from behind, and Starbuck turned to greet him, drink in hand.

"Same to you, Boomer. Where've you been?"

"I got a little, shall we say, delayed," Boomer said, with a smug grin.

"Oho, and would this delay have anything to do with that cute little civilian lady you've been chasing around lately?" Starbuck grinned.

"Could be, could very well be." Boomer hooked his thumbs behind his belt, looking very pleased with himself. "And what about you? Where's Cassie?"

Starbuck winced. "Haven't you heard? She wants nothing to do with me anymore."

"Oh? And when'd this happen?"

"A secton or two ago. No big deal, really." Starbuck brushed off his friend's concern with his typical devil-may-care attitude.

"Anything you say, Bucko." Boomer favored him with a dubious look, then snagged a glass off a passing tray. "And Apollo? Where's he at?"

"Away." Starbuck knocked off the rest of his ambrosa at a single gulp and set the empty glass on a nearby table. "He said he wasn't feeling very sociable, didn't want to go to a party with a bunch of drunken louts."

"That sounds like Apollo, all right," Boomer chuckled. "So why don't you go bring the party to him? Get a little ambrosa, grab a snack tray... it's not often we get a chance to celebrate around here."

"Maybe later, Boom-boom. I don't think—"

"But I do," Boomer interrupted him. "You really ought to go and at least visit him, wherever he's hidden himself. You know how he tends to brood on New Yahren's. And believe me, I don't want to deal with his temper tomorrow when he's feeling sorry for himself." Boomer looked around, found an unopened bottle of ambrosa where it awaited opening at yahren's turning. "Here, take this, and that tray over there—anything but mushies, that'd only remind him of Boxey. Go on, now."

Still protesting, Starbuck allowed himself to be loaded up with ambrosa and snacks and shoved out of the Officer's Club. Part of him really wanted to go to Apollo, but part of him thought this was a very bad idea.

But he did it anyway. He tried to work out a way to carry the tray full of fingerfoods more easily, but couldn't figure anything better than leaving them as they were. The little sandwiches would only disintegrate if he tried to put them in a sack or anything, and the crackers would fare no better. He'd just have to leave things as they were and hope Apollo was in his quarters, rather than in the celestial dome.

Luck was with him there. When he pushed the door signal, he was rewarded by a muffled curse. A moment later, the door slid open to reveal a startled looking Apollo.

"Starbuck! What are you doing here?"

Starbuck didn't wait to be invited, just brushed past Apollo and sat the tray on the nearest flat surface, which happened to be an end table. "Boomer seemed to think you needed a party. Since you wouldn't come to it, he insisted I take it to you."

"But I didn't want—" Apollo started, only to be interrupted by Starbuck.

"Cut the felger, Apollo. I know what you didn't want. Now are you going to come enjoy this little feast or are you going to stand there and argue?" Starbuck picked a tidbit off the tray and settled in a chair.

Apollo blinked. "Well. When you put it that way..." He closed and locked the door. "But no more interruptions. I'll put up with it from you, but not from anyone else."

"As usual," Starbuck grinned. "Why is that, anyway?"

"Because you always could get away with anything." Apollo found two glasses and made his way to the couch. He picked up the bottle of ambrosa.

"Hey!" Starbuck protested. "That's for yahren's turning!"

"Hey yourself. You wanted to bring this party to me, so you can just live with it if I want to party my own way." He cracked the seal and poured, offering a glass to Starbuck.

"Well, when you put it that way," Starbuck accepted the glass, smiling at the annoyed look on Apollo's face. "An eminently sensible idea, my Captain."

"Why do you insist on annoying me?" Apollo complained in a comfortable tone.

"Because someone's got to keep you human. You can't be the inscrutable, infallible Captain, not while you've got me being a thorn in your side."

"Huh." Apollo sipped at his ambrosa. "Inscrutable and infallible, my foot. You're just trying to boost my ego."

"As if it needs it." Starbuck looked at him for a moment, considering. "On second thought... you do look like you need some ego-stroking. You're looking rather down again. Come on, Apollo, don't play games with me. Tell me what's wrong, why you didn't want to come to the party."

"Like you don't already know that. It's New Yahren's Eve, for Sagan's sake. Even you can remember what that means."

"You can't mourn forever," Starbuck said quietly. Three yahrens ago, on New Yahren's Eve, a freak accident had destroyed Sheba, Boxey, and Apollo's hopes for a normal family life when the shuttle they were on collided with a stray meteorite. If it hadn't happened to penetrate the shielding just right, nothing would have happened, but it had, and the shuttle had exploded.

"So you said earlier." Apollo made a sour face. "Maybe I want to mourn forever, ever consider that?"

"Of course I did. You love to be miserable, even more than you love to make everyone else miserable."

"You'd better believe it." Apollo scrunched down further on the couch.

"And you're good at it, too," Starbuck muttered.

"What was that? Didn't quite hear you."

"Nothing."

"So, what the frack were you up to earlier today, anyway? Going on and on like that."

"Nothing." The feeling that this wasn't such a good idea was back again, full force.

"Funny, I almost thought you meant something, with all your talk of moving on and all."

Starbuck snuck a look at Apollo from underneath his eyelashes. His friend wasn't looking at him. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," he said, with the patented Starbuck carelessness.

"And maybe you meant something that scared the piss out of me."

Now Apollo was the one sneaking a look at Starbuck, who pretended not to notice. "What's to be scared of? If I implied anything that bothers you, well, it's hardly the first time you've gotten spooked by something I said." He debated making a run for the door. This was getting too uncomfortable. When in doubt, bail out, he thought, but Apollo's next words halted him before he could even begin to move.

"You know I love you."

Apollo was looking at him now, openly, with that clear steady gaze that was turning Starbuck's insides to jelly.

"And it's a fine way you have of showing it, too," Starbuck said, controlling his voice with iron will. Wouldn't do to let Apollo know how badly that had rattled him.

"What should I do? Marry you? Lords. In case you hadn't noticed, Starbuck, you're a guy."

"No, really?" Starbuck glanced down at himself, patted quickly at his chest. "Is that what the absence of tits means? What's being a guy got to do with anything?"

"Starbuck," Apollo said, in a long-suffering tone, "it just isn't done. You know that."

"Apollo," and Starbuck mimicked his tone again, "you're way out of touch with reality if that's what you think."

"You mean—" Apollo broke off and swallowed hard. A faint flush crept over his cheekbones. "Look, it doesn't matter what you mean. Things are great the way they are now, and that's the way they're going to stay. Now let's just forget either one of us ever said anything, okay?"

"Whatever you say, Apollo," Starbuck said. His eyes glinted and a slow smile spread across his features.

"What is it now? I don't like that look," Apollo said, shifting on the couch. His fingers worried at a loose thread on the arm. "I know that look. It usually means you're about to get me in trouble."

"Trouble?" Starbuck smiled, with an air of injured innocence. "Me? When have I ever gotten you into trouble?"

"We'd be here until next New Yahren's if I tried to count the ways," Apollo grumbled. He watched, wide-eyed, as Starbuck carefully set his nearly-empty glass on the table. "What are you doing?"

"I love the way your voice cracks when you're nervous," Starbuck chuckled, getting up and crossing the few steps separating his chair from the couch. He sat beside Apollo, whose eyes got even wider.

"Starbuck, what are you—"

Starbuck silenced him with a kiss. A long, slow, sensuous kiss, despite Apollo's initial attempt to pull away. "Just isn't done, huh?" he said, somewhat short of breath. He stroked a thumb over Apollo's cheekbone. He could feel the other man trembling, could see the conflict in those wide green eyes, so close to his own.

"Starbuck, what are you doing," Apollo tried to protest, but it lacked conviction. He raised a hand and tried to push Starbuck away, but the touch felt more like a caress.

Starbuck kissed him again. "Just wanted you to know what you're missing out on," he said, when he came up for air. "And now, I think I'll be going. There's a party out there, and people that want my company."

He started to get up, wishing he dared look at Apollo to see his reaction.

"Starbuck..."

He stood and stretched. "Yes, Apollo?"

"Don't..." Apollo stretched out a hand, then snatched it back. "Oh, Lords," he groaned, rubbing his head. "Why do things always have to be so complicated with you around?"

"What's complicated? You love me, I love you. Simple." Starbuck held his breath, waiting for a response.

"It's impossible," Apollo said, barely audinle. "Just not right. Or else..."

"Or else what, Apollo?" Starbuck took a step towards the door, then hesitated. He didn't really want to go.

"Or else it would have been you all along. But it's not right."

"Apollo, look at me." Starbuck turned back, dropped to one knee in front of the couch. He lifted Apollo's chin so the other man had to look at him. "I'm serious herre. It's right. There's nothing wrong with love."

Then Apollo leaned forward just a bit and kissed Starbuck. "You think?"

"No, Apollo, I don't think," Starbuck breathed, sliding one hand into Apollo's long hair. "I know."

They kissed again, this time with less hesitation on Apollo's part.

"So what have I been missing out on?" Apollo asked. A smile lurked around the corners of his mouth, and Starbuck felt a blinding surge of hope. He might win this one yet!

"I can show you," he hinted, sliding his hand down towards Apollo's crotch. Apollo's eyes widened, then he grabbed Starbuck by the shoulders.

"You're sure? That this isn't wrong, I mean?"

"Positive." Starbuck smiled into the intense green eyes locked onto his own. "You up for it?"

There was a long, quiet, uncertain moment, when Starbuck thought for sure he'd lost his chance. But then Apollo smiled, a shy little smile, and replied, "See for yourself."

That was when Starbuck knew that this was going to be the best New Yahren's ever.