instructor of the immobile arts (ingridmatthews) wrote in gaeta_dee,
instructor of the immobile arts

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FIC: Labor of Love - (Gaeta/Dee post-last ep)

I'm dying to write more G/D fic, this is what my writer's block has allowed me so far.

Title: Labor of Love
Pairing: Gaeta/Dee (of course!)
Spoilers: Takes place after the last episode.
Rating: PG-13, mild sexual situations

They still work in the CIC together, Dee at the main and him back at the console if only because he no longer had any choice but to sit while on duty. There's the weight of a ruined world sitting on Dee's shoulders and Felix can see the memory of a blackened Earth haunting her eyes. Their ironic doom had been laid out before her, its memory dragging her down and he can't help but follow, if only to hold her up as best he can.

He tries to comfort, silently, through touches and looks. She's often on the verge of tears so he's worried she might shatter if he says the words. Not surprisingly she finds ways to be at his side more often than not, most people think it's for his sake and lets it pass.

He alone knows the real reasons why.

There's love between them now, tinged with that strange intensity of two soldiers making a final stand. A friendship caught fire, leaving them twined together in the relatively private, floor-level bunk the Admiral assigned Felix as a 'reward' for not forcing his hand into punishing the Cylon that maimed him.

It had been smart not to care. They're all going to die anyway, sooner rather than later. At least he'll do it in relative comfort with the woman he loves by his side. There's been murmuring about a suicide pill being offered around, about mothers trying to jump out the airlock with their children but Felix thinks it's mostly bullshit, maybe spread around by Baltar to get more adherents.

That would be something he'd do.

Felix has no plans to kill himself. As awful as things are, he's happier than he's been in years. It's a perfect universe he rests in with Dee sleeping against his shoulder, her long body warm along his uninjured side. This journey has been nothing but a series of losses; of innocence, of faith - her heart, his leg. He sometimes thinks that by lying there and pretending theres no world outside of their shared rack he's somehow saving them from worse things. From more loss.

This might not be insanity. It could be pure truth.

It's only her touch - a caress to his cheek, a kiss to his shoulder - that allows him to live with that.

It's heaven when Dee wakes up. There's always a generous kiss, sour with sleep and wonderfully aggressive. It doesn't matter they don't know each other all that well. Between her failed marriage and his years of unwanted chastity they have a lot to learn and he plans on being the finest student possible. It's easy to press kisses from her long neck right down to the warm rise of her breasts. Her stomach quivers as he pulls her atop him and she takes her time, smiling as she fraks him and it's better than any sanctuary, real or imagined.

Reveille sounds. Neither one of them bothers to stir. It's not the same Galactica it once was, discipline is more a force of habit now than a requirement of service. Felix especially can show up to the CIC when he feels like it. It's not as though Helo will reprimand him; his guilt would probably kill him first.

Dee shifts a little against Felix's shoulder. "Maybe I should check in?"

"If you want to," Felix replies, lazily playing with the scarves Dee has decorated the rack with, draping them over the drab regulation curtains. They are colorful and soft and he likes them a lot. Makes retreating in there just that much more a pleasure. "I'll go with you if you like."

She props herself on one elbow. She looks tired. "You should rest. I'll put Hoshi on." A sudden thought crosses her mind, making her frown. "You don't think the Cavils will find their way here, do you?"

"Of course they will," he replies dully. And they'll have a good laugh too he thinks but doesn't dare say it aloud. Dee still has a shred of hope resting inside her heart, he'd cut off his other leg before allowing that to be destroyed. "But not for a while," he adds. "Maybe years. I wouldn't worry about it."

Dee sighs as she sits up and starts to pull her hair back into a ponytail. It's not as smooth as it used to be, stray hairs fall over her temples in straggling curls. She no longer bothers to fix them. "Call me if you're coming down," she says, pulling the curtain open and climbing out, careful of Felix's stump. It takes less than a minute to pull on her uniform. "Do you have enough water?"

He nods and shakes his pill bottle at her. "Water" is their code for painkillers. It wouldn't be wise to advertise that he has a good supply of narcotics on hand. There are too many desperate people around. Desperate for relief - desperate for death.

She bends down to kiss him. "See you later."

Her cheek is soft beneath his fingertips. "Later."

She drifts away, down the hall and Felix watches until she is out of sight. Closing the curtains, he shuts his eyes but doesn't sleep. Around him there's dull stirring, the occasional sharp mumbling of nightmares, the noises and smells of sex. There's no longer any laughter, nor any excited murmurs of hopeful news ... nothing like that. Just the day in and day out sounds of living, a collective tired breathing, survival as an afterthought.

And yet, for him, life is worth living. More than it has been in a long time. The enchantment won't last, death is knocking at their door but the days that remain?

Will be a labor of love.



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