Word Count: 2,000
Date: 10/29/04
Series: One
Rating: K+
Category: Challenge
Pairing/Focus: Lee, Cally
Warnings:
Summary:
Spoilers/Disclaimers:
She'd been working on this particular Viper for over a week. Part of that was that she was damned picky about how things got done - she got that from her chief - and the rest was that no one seemed to think it was a possibility that this plane would fly again. Cally wasn't considering it an option. It WOULD fly again. She'd see to it, even if it took every damned spare minute she could find between now and the end of the world. This plane had to fly... it just had to.
It wasn't the first time she had worked on this plane. But the first time, it had been a team effort. Socinus and Prosna had done most of the heavy lifting, while she and Campbell had taken care of the fine-tuning. In less time than she would have imagined, they had taken an old Mark II and had turned it from scrap metal into a piece of history. She had never been so proud of anything. Even the chief had been beaming, and it took a lot to get his attention. It wasn't that he was unfair or anything, but he had high expectations. If you met them, then that was fine... you were supposed to. If you didn't, then you were in for it. She had learned quickly that screwing up wasn't an option.
But this time was different. Socinus and she were consistently on opposite schedules, so she was lucky if she even saw him. Both Prosna and Campbell had died in the fire, along with most of the rest of their Deck Gang. So if this plane was going to fly, it was really up to her. And she couldn't do it in place of her job; there were too few of them as it was. Rebuilding this Viper was only possible in her free time.
So she built. Straightening out the metal hadn't been the easiest thing to do. It had taken a hammer, a lot of time, and more patience than she thought she could have. Lining up bolts had been a problem as well, because there was no one to hold while she aligned. As for the lifting, she'd done as little as possible. She borrowed the lift when it wasn't in use, but mostly she just crawled over the plane and dangled here or there to reach what she needed to. It wasn't all that hard once she got used to it.
"It's coming together."
Cally nearly fell at the sound of his voice. She did blush at the compliment, even as she let herself slide to the floor and come to attention before the Captain. "Thank you, Sir."
He shook his head at that. "I'm off duty for the first time in a week," he told her. "Just Lee, please."
She smiled at him; he looked so tired. "Thank you, Lee," she corrected. "I just thought... it might not fly again, but I think we all need to see it whole again." She gave a shrug. "Seeing it like this... it's just not right."
"So you're doing it yourself?" he asked, clearly surprised.
Another shrug; they tended to serve her well. "Mostly. I borrow the lift when I have to, but it's working a piece at a time. That's all it needs, you know. Time. It's all any of us need."
Lee Adama nodded, still looking up at his father's old Viper. Cally had to wonder why he was even interested. When they'd been setting him up to fly it for the ceremony he'd been just this side of belligerant. Now he was almost... interested.
"You do a lot around here, don't you?" he asked softly.
One more shrug. "We all do what we have to. I mean, you're covering pilots, schedules, CIC, and still taking time to check up down here. I guess we all just do until it's done, right?"
"That's pretty much it," he agreed.
Cally couldn't help but smile. "I can remember when we were putting this together the first time," she said. "None of us was quite sure what went where, and Prosna had this diagram spread out. We spent more time reading it than working at first. Pros got so frustrated."
Lee smiled back. "Why isn't he helping you this time?" he asked. "Is he working?"
Cally's smile faded. "He died in the fire," she said simply, and was very proud that it didn't start her bawling again. It probably would have, but some time in the last week she'd completely run out of tears.
"I'm sorry," Lee said gently, and he sounded like he meant it. Cally looked over her shoulder at him from where she had gone back to work on one of the landing struts. "It's hard losing someone you're close to."
She took a deep breath, and tried to remind herself that this was a Captain. He didn't need her problems, and he had enough of his own. He was only being polite. "I think we've all lost someone," she told him.
"I guess we have," Lee said. "Prosna, was he a friend, or..."
She turned to see his cheeks flushing red. "More than a friend," she said. "Less than a brother. Somewhere in between, I guess. It's kinda hard to define."
Lee's smle was genuine this time. "I can relate," he said. He looked up at the plane that was still coming together, and had a long way to go.
Despite the damage inflicted in battle, the tail lettering was still visible, as was the plaque on the side. It had been his father's plane, the Viper Lee had flown for the decommissioning. The last desperate battle had nearly done it in, but Cally wasn't letting it go. It was a symbol for her, and she felt it was her responsibility to make sure she flew again.
After working a few more minutes, she had essentially forgotten about the man watching her. She figured he knew how much time he had, and it wasn't her place to order a Captain around. But she had work to do, and only about an hour more until she'd have to go lay down and fight the nightmares until it was time for her shift. Another day, like all those before it, forever and ever.
She was all the way up on the fuselage when she heard his voice again. "How old are you?" he asked.
She looked down at him, keeping her balance by sheer instinct. "Nineteen," she told him. "Twenty next month."
"How long have you been aboard?"
"Six months," she answered, giving up on his leaving. She braced her arms against metal to keep her position, and watched him. "Why?"
"I was just wondering," he said almost softly. "Do you know... the commander?"
"Commander Adama?" she asked. At his nod, she gave him a grin. "Yeah, I guess. He's pretty good about getting around the decks. He knows how things work, and he's not above getting dirty part of the time. Pr..." She cleared her throat. "Prosna said that he'd caught him a couple of times in the simulators in the middle of the night; said he was a pilot, and that didn't go away because he got old. I think the same can be said of working the decks. He doesn't have to do it, but if he had to he could, and that's... reassuring."
"Why?" Lee asked.
She thought about that a moment. "Because we know that... he knows. When he assigns a double or denies us leave, he knows what he's doing, and he has a reason. There's nothing arbitrary about what he does. And if you ask him, he'll even tell you why. He doesn't get upset that you asked, but he gives you an answer. I guess it's why he's such a good leader."
Lee nodded, and Cally went back to work for a moment more, wiggling and shifting to reach the bolt she needed, finally using her rubber-soled shoe for leverage. The slick toe didn't catch though, and she found herself sliding towards the ground with nothing to grab. "Frak!"
Just as she thought she should have hit the ground, she felt strong hands at her sides, keeping her upright and lowering her to the ground. She opened one eye, and then the other, to see Lee's concerned expression. "Are you okay?"
She nodded. "Just slipped," she said, embarrassed. "I guess I'm more tired than I thought." she joked.
He seemed to get the joke, because he smiled back. Then he leaned forward, and with his hands still on her hips he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. It reminded her of her dad, or of Prosna when he was being sweet. It wasn't suggestive or anything... just nice.
"I shouldn't have kept you up," he said. "You're supposed to be resting. Tell you what, if you'll head back and get some sleep, I'll finish that bolt. I'm taller than you, and I think I can get it with less trouble."
Still half-stunned, she nodded, and turned to walk to her room. She was almost to the bay door when she turned back to see him fighting with the bolt, keeping it aligned as he maneuvered the next screw into place and tightened it all down.
"Thanks," she called back to him.
He looked up at her and smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. Most of the time, smiles on the Galactica were only half an effort. There as still too much pain, and too much grief. His had actually seemed more genuine than most.
There had been a lot of talk when the Captain had come aboard. He hadn't been very friendly, and the chief hadn't liked him, so rumors had started flying this way and that. But this had been the first time she'd really met him. She'd learned to respect him as the rest of the deck hands had, because his demands were reasonable and he really seemed to care about them, but tonight she'd seen something more. She'd seen him make an effort to come down to their level - to bridge the invisible line between officers and enlisted. She knew that was going to be important in the next few months, with things being so uncertain, but he was really the first person she'd seen who was willing to make that attempt.
And he'd kissed her. It hadn't been a pass - she knew what those felt like - but instead it had been an... acknowlegement. She wondered if maybe he had a little sister, or even a kid of his own. She wouldn't have been surprised. However he'd learned it, he did have the ability to relate to people, a lot like his father did. She thought that he just might be a good CAG after all, and that was important. A fair CAG meant happy pilots, and happy pilots made her job a hell of a lot easier.
Cally ducked into enlisted quarters and found her bunk in the maze of beds. Third row down, second bunk up, on the right. She climbed into the confined space and lay on her back, thinking about the day and what she'd learned about one of the officers. He wasn't all that different from the rest of them, she decided. He'd lost people, had too much to do, and had a hard time giving a real smile. The bottom line, she supposed, was that they were all people, whatever their rank or status. They were all necessary to the fleet's survivial, from her working on the planes to him flying them, to the commander ordering which planes went where. If they were going to make it - find a way to Earth and survive long enough to get there - it would take all of them.
She just hoped that everyone else turned out as nice as the Captain with the blue eyes and gentle kiss.