Work In Progress
by Sangga

Kara and Lee have too much time on their hands.

No, that's not it.

Kara is blonde and athletic. Lee is a Captain.

That's not it either.

- Should we give her a hand?

- No, let her go. She can figure it out.

- She's struggling. I dunno...

- Well, it's not brain surgery, is it?

 

Kara and Lee.

Kara and Lee.

Kara and Lee.

 

Kara and Lee are in officer's quarters, at a point in time when it is -- surprisingly, quite against all probability -- unoccupied by anyone else on Galactica.

- Yeah, right. That totally happens.

- Shut up, it's progress.

 

So there they are, anyway, and just for a change they aren't joking around or trading insults. And when Lee sits on the bench next to her to unclip his boots, Kara doesn't move away out of habit. And when he reaches over to put a finger on her dogtags, she looks at him. And then -.

 

- Geez. Touching my dogtags -- how romantic.

- It's a prelude. Gods, you're so negative.

- And you're so frakking repressed. Touching my dogtags? -- how about my boots --

- She already mentioned boots --

- ...or my gloves, or my towel?

- Your dogtags are near your neck, it's an intimate --

- Oh for frak's sake. Why don't you just touch my hand or something?

- Do you wanna write this?

- Well, yeah. I mean, is this even going anywhere?

- I'm gonna strangle you with those dogtags in a minute -- that'll be going somewhere...

- Why don't you just...I dunno, grab me or something? At least things would move faster --

- Not every story is about sex, you know.

- Why? Doesn't she want anyone to read it?

 

Anyway, Kara looks at Lee's eyes, and then he leans closer, and then --

- Bored already.

- Oh, for the love of the gods --

 

and then the guy in the long black coat leaning in the hatchway says:

"So you two gonna snog or wot?"

 

That's Spike.

 

"So you two gonna snog or wot?"

Truly ratty black polish on the thumbnail as he flicks his cigarette, and they both have their weapons drawn before the ash hits the floor.

The guy examines his crap manicure studiously.

"Cos if you are gonna snog," he continues, "then I was thinking maybe you could, y'know, move it along a bit."

Lee is both on high alert and really pissed off, Kara notes, because his voice is very quiet.

"And why is that?"

The newcomer grins.

"Well, haven't got all night, have we, eh? So you're not gonna kiss her then?"

He leers at Kara appreciatively. She's not so cold-blooded that she avoids the little shiver at the sight of those canines, all gnawing promise.

"I could kiss her, if you like."

Lee's aim is put off by the sound of another voice, the blur of another body. The girl rounds into the room and steps over the hatchway like it's some kind of spectacular annoyance. She swats the black-coated guy on the arm.

"Actually, Spike, you really couldn't."

Kara stiffens. And her first thought is that with two blondes in such a confined space, things could get a little...stuffy.

 

- See, I told you. Progress.

- Okay, okay -- so we're not totally without hope then. But you're, uh, forgetting...

- Oh, yeah. Sorry -- hi, how's it going?

- Evenin'.

- Hi there.

- So...well, are we going to wait for the formalities, or just --

- Gods no, that could take another three scenes. Excuse us -- hi, Kara Thrace, rebellious space pilot, it's a pleasure.

- Charmed, I'm sure. William the Bloody, Spike to m'friends, and this is --

- (Spike, I can introduce myself) -- sorry, Buffy Summers, Chosen One, nice to meet you. And you are...

- Oh. Um, Lee Adama, Kara's captain. Guess I should say 'welcome aboard'.

- Except don't, because you already get more than your fair share of bad dialogue...

- Heh, she's a kidder -- (Kara, do you mind?)

- Oh please. So, this a short term gig for you guys?

- Yeah, I guess. Can't see how she could write me and my trusty vamp sidekick here into --

- Slayer!

- What? For cryin' out loud, Spike, it's sci-fi.

- We generally prefer the term SF.

- Huh? Oh, right - uh, Lee, is it?

- Actually, it's Captain Adama.

- (Frak me)...actually it's Lee, just ignore him. And I wouldn't be laying any bets on how long you'll be sticking around. With this one it's anybody's guess.

- Seriously? I wouldn't'a thought we'd get, like, a permanent berth or anything. I mean, how long d'you think we'd be able to wander round on a spaceship --

- Battlestar

- Battlestar

- Right, battlestar, whatever -- how long d'you think we'd be able to traipse over your battlestar without wearing the plot thin?

- You'd be surprised. The last one? She tooled that outta oranges and tampon-trading, and it went on forever.

- God, just what I need -- another epic. Spike, did you hear that, might have to gear up for the long haul... Spike?

- ...

- Spike. Oh for crap's sake, stop sulking.

- (Sidekick...)

- Come again?

- Sidekick my bum, Slayer -- and it's your line.

 

"Sorry, don't mind Spike, he's, like, terminally impolite."

Lee's concentration is split between wishing he'd taken the shot before the girl arrived, and trying to interpret what she's saying exactly. Right now, she's scanning the room, and squinting at the tableau.

"You can put your guns down, by the way."

"I don't think so," Kara says. Her arms isn't tired by a long way, and she's seen Cylons before. Admittedly not like this, but anything's possible.

"Look," the girl elaborates, "I'm sure this is weird and all, but we're really not interested in you, so --"

Spike takes a drag and rolls his eyes.

"Now who's being impolite..."

"Will you please just shut up?" The girl turns and thumps him companionably. "They're freaked out as it is. And way to go with the sneak entry, Captain Peroxide."

"Hey! -- tha's'not my fault! Fred's the one who bollocksed up the whole portal thingie!!"

The girl sighs and presses two fingers to the bridge of her nose before squaring towards Lee.

"God, will you just shoot him now? It'd really save me so much hassle."

Kara and Lee look at each other. Lee makes an effort to lower his eyebrows.

"Why don't you both start by identifying yourselves and we'll take it from there."

"Oh, sorry." Blonde hair is flicked back unceremoniously and a hand extended. "Buffy Summers, nice to meet you. Just, y'know, point us in the direction of the undead and we'll get out of your way."

Spike rolls his eyes again, and snorts smoke out his nose.

 

- Rude much. Whadidya do that for?

- Well you started it.

- Oh, for the love of... All right, all right, fine. I'm sorry I called you a sidekick, okay?

- Hmph.

- Are we even now? C'mon, Spike, don't be such a baby. I was only kidding around.

 

Spike explains, messily.

"...and then we chased him back into our universe, but that just turned into your typical bloody unmitigated disaster, and so when we lost him again we thought it might've been time to pack it in, only then Fred says she can put a portal together, so she did, and here we are, and it looks like this is another cock-up, but such is life, eh?"

There's a long pause. Lee shifts his feet.

"Lieutenant?"

Kara sighs and reaches up her other hand to rub her shoulder.

"Beats the frak outta me. But my arm actually is tired now, so..."

They drop weapons by mutual consent.

Buffy smiles brightly and swings her hips.

"Well, this is great. We're really moving forward. So...who are you guys again?"

 

- Frak, I thought we were gonna be playing stick-em-up forever.

- She really has no idea about procedure, does she? I mean, that was completely wrong. We should have just taken them straight to the brig.

- Oh, Lee...

- What?

- I'm sorry, but arguing with you about onboard regs just makes my brain hurt.

- There's a joke there, but...

- But you're not gonna make it, or I'll smack you one.

- Thrill me. Actually, I was going to say that I'm a gentleman, so...

- This from the man who wanted to strangle me with my dogtags.

- Ahem.

 

Kara frisks them both. Spike grins and lifts his arms in anticipation.

"He's clean." She makes a face. "He's...cold."

"Thanks. I'll take it as a compliment that you noticed."

"Take it however the frak you want." She glances at Lee. "Nothing on him."

Spike waggles his eyebrows.

"Don't need a weapon, see. I'm a weapon in my own right."

He's leering as he says it, but Kara watches his teeth and believes him. She keeps her eyes on Spike, talks to Buffy.

"Is he always this obnoxious?"

"Only when his lips are moving. Spike, you're a weapon of mass distraction," Buffy calls, then turns as Kara starts checking her over. "Here - let me save you the bother."

She pulls out her collection from the pockets of her jacket, and hands it to Kara, who deposits it all on the bench with a look of utter confusion. Lee sees the look.

"What?"

"Well, we got four pointed sticks, a really weird-looking knife, a bottle of... water?"

"Holy water," Buffy supplies helpfully.

"Right. And this is..."

"Lipgloss."

"Really?"

"Cherry-flavoured."

"I always liked that one," Spike muses absently.

"So let me get this straight," Lee says, refocussing. "You guys are hunting down a --" he and Kara share a look, " -- a demon, called --"

"Necros," Buffy and Spike intone in unison.

"Right. And you've come through a --"

"Portal," Buffy supplies.

" -- a portal, but you're not from here, you're from --"

"L.A.," Spike prompts, then shrugs. "Which is probably why we're both so comfortable in the cold vastness of empty space. Familiar territory, eh?"

Trying not to look as flummoxed as her feels, Lee frowns at Kara.

"Well, what do you think?"

Kara tests the point of one of the stakes with her thumb, contemplating whether she could confiscate the lipgloss and say it's regulation procedure, and then she lifts a shoulder.

"I think they don't look like Cylons, but who the frak knows? And I think we should check civilian passenger manifests for a breakout from mental health facilities. That's what I think."

Buffy shifts from one foot to the other.

"Well could you show me the bathroom and then check? I really need to, y'know, go."

Lee looks at Kara.

"Your call. Do Cylons pee?"

"Yes, Lee, Cylons pee."

 

- Toilet humour -- you gotta love it.

- How come Buffy gets to use the bathroom, and I don't even get the chance to change out of my frakking flightsuit? No offence, sorry.

- None taken. Totally appreciating the comfort issues.

- Poor Lee. C'mon baby, suck it up -- you're an Adama, you can take it.

- Kara, I love you, but shut up.

- What's with the Adama schtick?

- Ah, y'know, it's a family deal. Sibling death, boss' son -- the tortured soul thing runs in his genes.

- God, please don't mention tortured souls -- I've had enough of them to last a lifetime.

- Or in my case, pet, several lifetimes. Hey, Capt'n -- don't fret, mate, it'll pass.

- You think?

- Sure as God made little apples.

- I thought the Gods made little apples?

- Er, right. So, you and Miss Rebellious Space Pilot here are...

- Love interest? Well, yeah, but...

- ...but nothing's happening yet. I keep telling him that not every story has to be about sex, but --

- Kara!

- So, my bad for prying, but what's the hold up? I mean, doesn't she want anybody to read it?

- That's what I said. Beats me. Guess it's the usual 'course-of-true-love-you-all-have-to-have-a crappy-time-before-you-get-to-make-out' thing. Consider it a work in progress. So, you and Spike...

- Oh yeah, Spike and me, sure. But we think we're over that hump now, heh.

- Yeah, I think she's lost interest. And a good thing too -- not healthy to be so bloody athletic if you're a bicentennarian like meself. You blokes the latest craze then?

- Seems like it. Maybe we'll make some progress if I can ever get out of this flight suit...

- Ah well, good luck to you then. Fag?

- Well, actually, no, I don't think --

- I meant a cigarette.

- (Lee, will you relax?) Really? You mean you've got some?

- Always.

 

By the time she gets back from the bathroom, Spike is sitting on a bottom bunk sharing out his stash of Marlboro Red. Buffy tilts her head and grimaces.

"Kinda early to be corrupting the locals, dontcha think?"

"S'my generous nature. And they haven't seen him, by the way."

"Really? That can't be right. Big guy, kinda hairy, extra arms and horns and stuff, pretty hard to miss..." Her face falls when she sees the looks of blank incomprehension on the locals' faces. "Damnit. Fred swore black and blue that he came through this way..."

She lets herself flop onto a bench seat, appeals with her eyes.

"You don't wanna let me and Spike have a look around anyway? Just a kind of, uh, intergalactic politeness thing?"

Lee raises his eyebrows sympathetically.

"I appreciate the problem, but you want us to walk you guys around the ship, in the middle of shift rotation? We'll pass."

Kara drags long and appreciatively on her cigarette and then exhales her reply.

"But if we see any big hairy demons on board anytime soon, you'll be the first to know." She coughs a little. "Lords, these things are worse than Sagittaran cheroots."

"Thanks," Spike says. He's sniffing the air, a little distracted. "Who sleeps on this bunk?"

Kara eyeballs him briefly.

"Sharon - not that it's any of your business. Why?"

"Oh, no reason." He gives Buffy a little speculative look before shrugging. "So, seems that we're at an impasse, eh? No demon, no Cylons, whatever the frak they are..." He spots Buffy's expression. "Hey -- when in Rome..."

"I don't get the Cylon thing," Buffy admits.

"Forget it, love."

"Excuse me for stating the obvious," Lee says, "but you two have a return ticket out of here, right? Because explaining your existence to my father could be a real headache."

"And your dad is..."

"Fleet Commander. It's complicated."

"Don't get him started," Kara says with a grin. "But he's right. We've got..." She checks her chrono. "...oh, about thirty minutes before things around here get busy."

Spike is bouncing on his bunk.

"Bugger. And here's me, just starting to get comfortable."

"Yeah -- and you're so quick with the lingo, too," Buffy deadpans.

"Slayer, you're a riot."

"God, please let this trip be over soon," Buffy mutters, before turning to Lee. "But to answer your question, we get an automatic retrieval, Necros or no Necros, in fifteen. So no problems there."

"Fifteen minutes..." Lee says, looking over at Kara. "I think fifteen minutes we can handle."

Spike bounces, looks around absently.

"So, anybody got a pack of cards?"

Buffy walks over to the bench, where her weapons stash is still resting. Kara gets up to follow her, and Lee is left with Spike.

"So...you guys hunt down demons for a living."

"Yeah." Spike lies down on the bunk experimentally, decides it's too small, sits up again. "What about you?"

Lee shrugs.

"Fly Vipers. Shoot toasters."

"Yeah." Spike nods sagely. "That's pretty odd."

Kara watches Buffy secret away her stake collection, the ceremonial dagger and the holy water. Buffy looks around in confusion for a second before Kara reluctantly hands over the lipgloss.

"Sorry."

"No problem. Hey, why don't you keep it."

"Thanks." Kara grins broadly, tucks the small tube into the pocket of her BDUs, and blows smoke. "He called you 'Slayer'. Is that like your callsign?"

"Callsign -- not so much," Buffy explains. "More like a calling. Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"That your natural hair colour?"

Kara just smiles. She and Buffy will still be grinning at each other when the portal flashes open in eleven minutes time.

 

- Well, it was nice meeting you all.

- Same.

- So...fifteen mintes. D'you think she's gonna drag it out for another few scenes?

- Doubtful.

- Then maybe we could interest you in...a friendly game of Traid?

The End

- I didn't even get to go vampface.

- Spike, it's The End. See? The End Quit while you're ahead.

 

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