genre: fun stuff. kara/helo
rated:slightly naughty, for drinking and insinuations of sex
with thanks to claira.
a thing to note: kara and helo were fuckbuddies. NO, REALLY.
Two days shore leave, and Starbuck's not wasting a second. First bar she's in throws her out after two shots and a short encounter with a guy who can't understand 'no,' but does understand a fist to the face by the 'pretty lady' he wanted to leave with. Second bar has stupid lighting and free girly drinks with umbrellas. Third bar she finds some familiar faces, and settles in for the long haul.
Flatop gets up to sing, and it's about then that Starbuck thinks they're probably completely wasted. As Flatop heads back to the table, he causes some guy to spill his drink. The guy takes a swing at Flatop, and Starbuck takes the opportunity to leap over the table and take a swing back. Helo's busy picking up a girl at the bar, but she loses interest when he mentions that he flies raptors.
He joins them in the fight, and they get thrown out. They don't mention that they're military.
"That sucks," says Flatop, and she thinks he's a credit to his squadron for not slurring his words. She tells him so.
"Are you saying that I'm drunk?" he asks.
"I think she might be." Helo grins.
"Aw, frak you, man. You're just narked because you're going home with pilots instead of some chick."
Starbuck laughs. "You know he thinks you're hot. He'd rather go home with you."
Flatop gives her the finger, and swerves away. "I'm gonna find another bar, guys. You coming?"
"Nah, I'm good," Starbuck says. She nods to Helo. "You?"
Helo shakes his head, and Flatop keeps walking away. "Someone needs to protect your virtue."
She laughs again, and slings her arm around his shoulders.
"Helo," she says, taking a drink from the bottle in her other hand, "you are a great man. That girl, she didn't know what she was doing, turning down a pilot."
"You're a frakking pilot, Starbuck," Helo says.
"Yeah, and it proves that I have excellent taste. I'd do a raptor pilot," she says, and laughs.
"Raptors aren't good enough for city girls," Helo sneers.
"Hey!" Starbuck hits him with her bottle. "I think raptors are great." Helo looks at her. "If a little cumbersome," she continues with a grin. Helo confiscates her bottle and drinks from it.
"You're just jealous, stuck in those tiny cockpits," he says with a grin around the bottle, and Kara laughs.
"And you're just jealous that you don't have such a tight fit," she says, slipping her arm from about his shoulders to around his neck and squeezing. He drops the bottle and wrestles with her, but she twists at the last moment and puts a foot behind his knee. He ends up on his stomach on the ground, her arm still around his neck. She squeezes again, gently. "Give," she breathes into his ear.
"Give," he whispers back, and she lets him get to his feet.
He keeps grinning, and she follows him back to his hotel room.
It's not the first time.
He's last out of quarters and he's not late for the morning briefing but he's probably going to miss breakfast.
"Helo!" calls a voice from behind him, and he turns to see Ripper. He flips off a salute, and Ripper nods. "At ease, Lieutenant," he says, "I've brought you a gift." He gestures to the girl beside him. "This is Lieutenant Valerii. She's your new pilot."
"And I'm nobody's gift," she says, smiling. Helo grins.
"That's good to hear." He puts out his hand. "Karl." She puts her hand in his; shakes and squeezes.
He likes her smile, and doesn't let go.
"Morning briefing, let's go," says Ripper, breaking the silence with a clap of his hands as he heads down the corridor.
"At ease, pilots," he barks loudly into the room as he ducks through the hatch. Everyone laughs. Morning ritual, and they're still seated. "This is Lieutenant Sharon Valerii. She's our newest raptor pilot. I know you'll all show her how we work here on the Galactica. Boomer, take a seat, and let's get the morning started."
Helo slips in beside Starbuck as Ripper turns his back and walks up to the podium. She nudges him. "Hungover?" she asks, and doesn't bother to keep the amusement out of her voice.
"Shut up," he says, and focusses on the briefing. He looks over at Sharon, and she smiles at him. He smiles back.
Dismissed, Starbuck and Helo stand to leave with the other pilots. As they make their way to the door Sharon joins them, and Starbuck says, "Groupie already?"
"She's with me," he says.
There's just four of them left by the time Flatop finds Boomer. He makes to whisper into her ear, and she glares at him. She doesn't want that frakker anywhere near her - she's worried he'll bite.
"Chief Tyrol was looking for you," he says, and raises an eyebrow in suspicion. Boomer shakes her head.
"He should know by now that I'm not interested," she says. Flatop shrugs. He doesn't care. There's a silence broken by a whistle.
"Sharon's got herself a fan." Helo smiles around his lolly pop.
Starbuck starts. "I guess that means your raptor will always be ready to go, huh, Boomer?"
"She's gonna get a smooth ride."
Gaeta laughs. "Pilots, it's been grand, but time to go." Starbuck reaches out and pats him on the arm.
"Thanks for your money, Lieutenant," she says, and he nods at her. He doesn't want to lose anymore. Flatop follows Gaeta out of the room, and Starbuck raises her eyebrows. "So, do we think they're doing it?" she asks as she throws money into the pot. "See and raise twenty. I'm having a good night tonight."
"You are such a worry," Boomer says. She's tired.
"I'll see you and raise you."
"You'll raise?" Starbuck's tone is disbelief. "You've got nothing left, and I've seen your locker. There's nothing in that. That must be one fine hand you have there, Helo."
"What are you raising?" Boomer interrupts.
Helo pauses. "A frak," he says. He tilts his head.
And just like that, Boomer knows.
He's not kidding.
Boomer throws her cards down. "I'm out," she says, and stands to leave.
"Raise you thirty," Starbuck says, as she waves goodbye to Boomer. She doesn't take her eyes off of Helo.
Boomer steps out of the hatch, the game behind her. She hears Helo say, "You think thirty cubits matches a frak?"
Starbuck leans across the table and smiles at Helo. "You know it does," she says, and wiggles her tongue at him. Helo laughs.
Boomer knows, and Starbuck's going to win.
She always does.
Boomer closes the hatch.