lyssie | random BSG fic. Lee/Cally overtures

no title, spoilers for Hand of God. Not quite happy with it, but I have too much to hammer out elsewhere...

Cally is waiting in his rack when he finally returns, flush with victory, sweat and adrenaline. There's a part of her that isn't sure why she's sitting in the CAG's bunk, her knees drawn to her chest, her arms looped around them.

People would talk. Not that people don't always talk, but this is Captain Lee Adama, and he's a sensation.

More people than talked about Lieutenant Valerii and Chief Tyrol, and she thinks that might be sad. That she's following her Chief down the same path of career-destruction. Although having a career in a fleet that's reduced exponentially to near-base components might be an oxymoron.

It takes him more than a minute before he finally notices her. Too busy stripping his flight suit off, probably. "Uh..."

"Captain."

He shifts, looking slightly strained that she's sitting there, obviously expecting something. And he has no idea what.

A humorless smile touches her lips. This would be so much easier if she knew what she wanted from him. If could just be blatant hero worship. He's *Apollo*, she's just a lowly little mechanic. But she thinks it's more than hero worship, because if it were just that, she'd be spreading her legs and begging for him to frak her just so she's got a piece of him inside of her.

So, it could be that she's just glad he's alive. That she wants to thank him for continuing to keep the rest of them alive.

But that could be done in a corridor, or on the hangar deck, and so it doesn't work either.

He's alive, she decides. And maybe it's just that simple. She unwinds from her perch and stands. She's seen him, even if he obviously has no idea what to make of her, and now she's done. And she still has no clue what to say to him.

"Er, Cally?"

Suddenly she knows what she wants.

He's completely surprised and freezes as her hands grab his collar and she stands straighter and kisses him on the mouth. Half a second, and then he's pulling her into him, leaning into the kiss. He tastes like ambrosia and tobacco, fear and exultation.

And maybe it is hero-worship after all, she thinks dazedly. But then she's pulling back, disengaing, and so it can't be.

He hasn't taken everything she has to offer.

And she's not offering it. "I just... I'm glad you're alive. Sir."

He shifts, glances down, then back at her, spearing her with his gaze. "So'm I."

A smile touches her lips, and she bobs. "I'll see you."

"Yeah..."

Cally's nearly to the doorway, when he calls. "Hey, Cally?"

"Sir?"

"I'm glad you're alive, too."

And she takes the slight glow the words give her, and she leaves. Because this isn't about something momentary.

Cally wants to consider her options before the long haul.

-f-