Apollo groaned and rested his head against his desk for a moment. There was a decision to be made, and time was running out. Already the chrono crept inevitably towards the night hours, when action must be taken, one way or the other.

With vast reluctance, he raised his head and pulled the note out of his pocket. It was written on a scrap of paper which was already wrinkled and worn from much handling.

You and I share a common goal, it read. We should meet. Storage room 153 Alpha, midnight of the new moon.

Dramatic, enigmatic, disturbing... it had all the earmarks of one of the bad old IFB late-night broadcasts. Apollo felt an unpleasant twisting in his gut, certain he knew who it was from- the mysterious leader of the Cylon Death Cult. But what was it all about?

The door to his office opened, and Apollo jumped guiltily. He stuffed the scrap of paper back into his pocket and faced the intruder.

"Starbuck! What brings you here?"

"Looking for you, actually- what's got you hidden away here when there's real food and good booze available?" Starbuck grinned, but his gaze was sharp and suspicious. Apollo swore to himself. Starbuck would not like what he was hiding, not one bit.

"Nothing- nothing. I was catching up on a bit more paperwork, that's all. Wish the computers were more reliable."

"I hear that. So are you coming?"

"I suppose." Apollo rose, straightening the papers on his desk. Starbuck was still watching him like a hawk, obviously aware that there was more going on than met the eye. They made their way to the mess hall together, where people were caught up in the holiday atmosphere brought on by opening the great kitchens. Funny how bad ration packs tasted to people who had become accustomed to having the full bounty of a planet available.

Apollo pulled off a masterful performance, which finally allayed Starbuck's suspicions and allowed him to return to his own quarters in time to prepare for the proposed meeting. He wasn't too sure when he'd decided to go, but he was ready to discover who wanted to meet with him in the depths of his own sanctuary.

He slipped into a clean uniform, grateful for the military habit of stocking spares at any base. He slid his blaster into its leg sheath, then concealed a smaller, but no less deadly, stinger in an arm sheath. Something told him whoever it was would insist on seeing him disarmed before consenting to speak.

The corridors were deserted. Apollo worked his way to the upper levels, where the designated storage room awaited. He slipped in to the room just as his chrono clicked over to midnight.

"Hello?" he called softly. He heard a faint rustling.

"Major Apollo." A familiar voice spoke from the darkness, soft velvet over steel.

"Zymand." He chuckled softly. "Why am I not surprised to find you here? If anyone could find a way to survive, and then profit from, the Second Destruction, it would be you."

"Perhaps there is hope for you yet, Apollo." Zymand laughed lightly, mockingly. "I'd anticipated your shock at my survival- was quite looking forward to it, in fact. But you seem to have done well for yourself, also... leader to this motley band of survivors, who look to you as some kind of god. Or perhaps an ancient hero, come again to save them..."

"Enough of that, Zymand. Why are you here?"

"Why, to speak with you, of course." A ripple of amusement slid through that velvet voice. "Why else would I risk entering your very stronghold?"

"Come now, Zy- surely you have not stooped so low as to mock me? You once told me I was not even worth the effort of noticing, that I was beneath your contempt." Apollo was surprised to feel an echo of old pain at the memory.

"Ah, my dear Apollo- you never forget anything, do you? Then perhaps you will remember where your son is."

"My son is dead." Apollo was able to say it without choking up, now. He'd had a long time to get used to the idea, and plenty of distractions.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. Who's to say he isn't one of my beloved followers?"

Apollo laughed, a short, harsh bark. "You will never get me to believe that. I know where Troy was and what he was doing when the Cylons attacked. In fact, he was probably one of the first to go. Now what do you really want from me?"

A low chuckle met this sally. "I am proud of you, Apollo- before, you would have been at my throat, demanding to know what I'd done with your boy. As it happens, I need your help- I'd hoped to use knowledge of Troy's whereabouts as a bargaining tool, but you have apparently learned to think with something other than your... emotions." A suggestive pause, then the rustle of cloth as Zymand moved closer. "My followers are ready to make a break from me and join your camp. I simply cannot have this."

"Excuse me?" Apollo was confused. "You came to me for help, so you can hold your pathetic little Cylon Death Cult together? And this after you've stolen my supplies and killed some of my scouts."

"You have it right." Another chuckle. "I expect you to react in typical Apollo fashion and take them in, of course."

"And this will help you how...?"

"As soon as they see what pathetic weaklings your crowd is, they will realize that all must die."

Apollo had enough time to wonder at the emphasis Zymand put on the word die before his arms and legs were immobilized and the familiar pressure of a hypospray was against his neck. He struggled, but it was completely futile. He heard Zymand step closer still in the blackness.

"Ah, my Apollo..." Warm lips found and held his. Apollo froze, caught in an unexpected storm of conflicting emotions. "Always so trusting, so naive..."

Then the plunger of the hypospray was depressed with a hiss and Apollo knew no more.

Blackness. That was all there was to life, nothing but blackness. Open eyes, closed eyes- no difference.

Apollo gave up trying to see and concentrated on other sensations. There were very few. He was lying flat on a hard surface, that much was certain from the ache in his back. He moved expeirimentally. That woke plenty of sensations, none of which were pleasant. The bands of fire around his wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles told him that he was tied, arms flat against his sides. The unpleasant thing in his mouth was surely a gag.

Just great, Zy, he thought, with irrelevant and wayward humor. You pick the strangest times to get kinky...

Then the sound which had roused him from his drugged stupor was repeated.

"Psst... Apollo!" A harsh whisper, in a very familiar voice. "Apollo, wake up!"

"Mmmmph!" He responded urgently to the sound of Starbuck's voice. "Mmmph mmmmmmmm!"

"It's okay, 'Pollo, I'll get you out of this. But I need your help. You listening?"

"Mm-hmmm."

"I'm going to untie you, but leave the ropes on you, okay? When he comes back, I want you to wait for my signal, then get up as quick as you can. There's only one guard on this place. Once the leader and the guard are out of the picture, we're free to go."

Apollo felt Starbuck's hands working at the bindings. He was swift and gentle, but Apollo still flinched and groaned as the tight ropes were loosened. At last Starbuck removed the gag and a blindfold.

Apollo spat fuzz out of his mouth. "A fracking blindfold- no wonder I couldn't see! Thanks, Bucko."

"No problem. Take a good look now, then I'm going to put it back on you."

Apollo did as he was told, scanning the room thoroughly. Small, four wooden walls and a roof, dirt floor, nothing in it but the table he was laying on and an assortment of leather straps hanging on the walls. Apollo blushed a bit at the thought of what use Zy might have for some of those straps. There was a good-sized hole in the wall, under the table. That must have been how Starbuck got in.

"Got it all?" Starbuck was hovering anxiously over him.

"Yes." Apollo smiled. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Frack!" Starbuck fumbled with the blindfold and the gag as they both heard voices outside the door.

Apollo submitted tamely to the gag and blindfold, then lay quietly, waiting for something to happen. How did he get himself into this position, anyways? And Lords... That was Zymand out there! Just what he needed right now, old emotional baggage right when things were looking more promising with Starbuck.

The door opened with a scrape and a creak. Apollo couldn't prevent a twitch.

"Ah, I see you are with us again, dear Apollo." Zymand's voice was filled with satisfaction. Apollo prayed that he wouldn't notice the loosened bonds.

"Mmmph."

"What lovely sounds you make, my dear."

He could hear the smirk in Zymand's voice. Bastard. Just wait, you...

"Now!"

Despite the fact that he was waiting for it, Starbuck's yell still took Apollo by surprise. He threw off the ropes and removed the gag and blindfold again, in time to see Zy go down from a low-energy pulse of Starbuck's weapon. The guard followed, falling to the ground in a heap. Apollo quickly tied both men securely. "You'll probably like that, huh, Zy?" he said, then followed Starbuck as he ducked through the low hole in the wall. Apollo followed him, stumbling as his legs regained circulation.

"Where the hell are we?" He coughed, still trying to clear the fuzz from the gag out of his mouth and trying to cope with the leftover disorientation of the drug.

"Abandoned agri-building, about five miles south of the base." Starbuck halted their progress in front of a door and cracked it open with caution. "This is the only bit which will be tricky- we have to dash across the open field to the canal. There's someone with a laser rifle guarding, but if we time it right, we can run while he's watching the other direction. You up for a run?" Starbuck turned from the crack to search Apollo's face for any sign that he couldn't handle it.

Apollo looked at Starbuck and smiled. "I can do anything, with you here."

The blue eyes lit with a brief smile, then returned to the serious business of getting them out alive. "There he goes... come on!"

Apollo followed Starbuck across the field, both of them running silently. A soft rustle of grass was all that marked their passing. Then Starbuck vanished. Apollo looked down and saw he was on the edge of a dry irrigation canal.

Oh frack the thing's twelve feet deep and cement this is going to HURT...

He jumped, remembering just before he landed to relax. It wasn't as bad as he'd feared, but he still felt the jarring impact through his entire body. Starbuck helped him up and led him down the canal.

"We safe yet?" Apollo halted, listening for any sign of pursuit.

"No, now would you come on?" Starbuck grabbed his arm and pulled him along at a steady jog.

"How far?" Apollo didn't want to admit it, but he wasn't as young as he used to be. This was taking a lot out of him. He could also feel the drug in his system, threatening to pull him back down into oblivion.

"Not long. See? Right there ahead of us."

Apollo had never been happier to see his half-track crawler. He dredged up a final burst of speed and ran to it, climbing in to the familiar vehicle just when his legs said they weren't going to work anymore. He collapsed onto the passenger side of the bench seat with a groan.

Starbuck climbed in to the driver's seat and started the engine. He fired it up, then set it on full throttle autopilot. The sturdy land vehicle shot obediently down the canal, heading towards the setting sun. Then he turned to Apollo.

"What ever posessed you to do a damnfool thing like that?"

"Huh?" Apollo turned to face his rescuer.

"You should have told me about that meeting! If I hadn't found that note, you would have been a goner for sure."

"I- I didn't want to worry you..." Apollo said lamely, taken aback by the fiery outrage in Starbuck's eyes.

"If... you... ever," Starbuck said, spacing his words deliberately for maximum impact, "do that to me again, I'll personally wring your neck!"

Then Starbuck made a lunge across the seat and Apollo found himself swept up in a fierce embrace. He worked his arms around Starbuck and held on just as tightly. I'm so glad he came for me, before Zy... tried anything.

Starbuck pulled away long enough to check the progress of the half track, then kissed Apollo. It was a very serious kiss, and it caught Apollo completely by surprise. But he responded eagerly, clutching the other man to him. Then Starbuck pulled away, uncertainty creeping into his eyes.

He glanced outside again. "Ah, felgercarb," he muttered, and took the crawler off auto. He slowed it and turned it straight up the side of the canal. The engine whined as the tires and tracks pulled the crawler obediently up the steep side. Starbuck aimed it north, towards the mountains which contained their new home.

"Starbuck..." Apollo made an effort to steady his breathing. He noted with much amusement the blush staining the Captain's cheeks. "Thank you for coming after me. I was an idiot."

"Yeah, you were an idiot," Starbuck said lightly. "And you were lucky I found you. Next time, don't be such an ass- I might not be there to pull you out of the fire."

"Like there will be a next time." Apollo shuddered. "I have no desire to ever run into Zymand again."

Starbuck made a choking sound. "Zymand? It was Zymand I fried?"

"Yes. You know of him?"

"Give me some credit here, Pol- I remember the bastard who tried to ruin your career as well as you do."

"Doubtful," Apollo said, in a tone as dry as a desert. Starbuck shot a questioning look at him. "I never told you what was behind all that, did I?"

"No. Why?" The deliberately casual tone suggested Starbuck already suspected the truth.

"He didn't like it when I broke up with him."

"Oh." Starbuck gripped the steering yoke so tightly Apollo was concerned for the sturdy duraplas. "Great. Like I really needed to hear that."

"Sorry, old friend. It was a long time ago, and I didn't want to talk about it."

"And is that why he took you now? To get you back?"

"I honestly don't know. He was saying his followers wanted to come join us, and then they would turn on us- it was pretty confusing. Usually Zy's a lot better organized than he was last night."

"Oh-" Starbuck glanced at him. "I suppose you'd like to know- the Cylon Death Cult consists of six people."

"No..."

"Yes. That was their only base, and I studied the full complement of them for most of the day."

Apollo grinned. "Wonderful! That makes things a whole lot easier."

"It does, doesn't it," Starbuck agreed. The crawler at last reached the modest garage of the public portion of the base. Starbuck parked it and jumped out. Apollo followed slowly.

Starbuck was already at the lift by the time Apollo reached the ground. He turned and watched impatiently as Apollo made his way stiffly to his side.

"You okay?" Concern won out over his irritation about Zymand.

"Never better," Apollo lied through gritted teeth. His muscles had stiffened appalingly during the brief ride.

"Liar." Starbuck thumped him on the shoulder with rough affection and held the lift door open for him. "You're going straight to bed."

"You've got that right." Apollo could feel a headache of monumental proportions creeping up on him. He willingly suffered Starbuck's fussing until he was securely in his own bed... alone.