Stream of Consciousness

Part VII

"Three on a run," Racetrack declared, dropping her Triad cards on the table for all to see. She reached to the table's center, dragging the hodge-podge of cubits, jewelry and other small but valuable items toward her. "Nice payday," she commented.

"Frakkit, woman," the pilot beside her growled. Muscles rippled on his tattooed arms as he threw in his cards. "That's the third hand in a row..." He looked from Racetrack to her partner across the table, then back.

"The good doctor is too self-absorbed to throw me the game," Racetrack cut in. Gaius Baltar sat opposite her, and she gave him a conspiratorial smile. "Gods know what it might get him."

Behind Racetrack, Six stood with her back turned to the card game, seeming to be a part of another group. She was dressed as an off-duty pilot, her blonde hair pinned up under a military cap. At Racetrack's comment, she turned around, a mix of jealousy and derision on her face. "Why, Gaius," she said, her voice dripping acid, "I believe she's inviting you to frak her."

"Hmmm? What's that?" Baltar asked, blinking. Racetrack scowled slightly as the doctor seemed to rebuff her. Baltar's focus had been elsewhere, as though he had been listening to someone behind her. Racetrack glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the doctor's attention, but no one was there. His mind back on the conversation, Baltar arched his eyebrows at the tattooed pilot. "What it might get me is a trip to the infirmary," Baltar stated, throwing in his hand.

"I'm a pussy cat, Doc," the pilot quipped, then bared his teeth at Baltar.

The doctor shrank back in his chair a bit, eyes widened in an expression of fear that was at least half real. "Yes, I'm quite certain of that," he said with a trace of sarcasm.

Opposite the tattooed pilot, Lee Adama grinned, his eyes on the cards he had gathered up from the table. As he squared the deck, he glanced at Baltar. "Really, Doctor, he's quite tame," Lee assured him. "Although," Lee continued, "I wouldn't want to be a Cylon and be in the same room with him." The pilot grinned and bared his teeth again, making a show of growling at Baltar and Adama. Racetrack put her drink back down and sputtered a laugh, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

The tattooed pilot leaned back in his chair, rolling his shoulders and twisting his head to ease the tension in his neck. From behind Racetrack, Six glided over to stand behind him, watching Gaius Baltar with amusement. Beside Baltar, Lee Adama's attention was on the deck of cards in his hand as he shuffled them. Six leaned forward, tilting her head to one side as she regarded the muscular pilot, her face just inches from his cheek. "Yes," she purred, "wouldn't that be interesting to see?"

Baltar's eyes widened, certain that the pilot would feel the Cylon's breath on his ear. "Uh," Baltar began, fighting down a sense of panic, "then I suppose it's a good thing you're not a Cylon agent after all?" Baltar turned his attention to Lee Adama as he spoke, though he glanced back once at the tall blonde Cylon.

Racetrack watched Adama for a response, while the tattooed pilot ignored the exchange, waiting on the cards that Lee had begun to deal. Lee cleared his throat, glancing at Baltar and then back to the deck of cards. As he dealt the last one, he faced Baltar again. "I suppose so," Lee said evenly, raising an eyebrow at the Doctor. "And I suppose you want me to thank you for that?"

Six stood upright, crossing her arms as she spoke, "Why Baltar, it seems the Admiral's son is still a bit angry with you."

Baltar made a show of looking at his cards, trying not to look at Adama, fighting an overwhelming urge to launch a retort at Six. Clearly flustered, he swallowed hard and said, "I did save your life."

"Yes you did," Lee replied, his voice tight. He laid his cards face-down on the table, his focus locked on Baltar. "You did save me, but from what, doctor? Why did I need saving?"

Gaius Baltar didn't answer, instead shooting a helpless look at Six. The blonde Cylon had again melted into the anonymous group of pilots beyond the card table. When Lee's voice rose slightly as he posed his angry question she turned back, stepping closer to Adama. She stopped almost beside him, resting a hand on the back of Racetrack's chair.

At the card table, the tattooed pilot pretended to be busy with his cards as he tried to hide a smirk directed at the doctor. Racetrack made no attempt to hide her interest – Lee Adama seldom lost control, but when he did it was usually spectacular. Lee was boresighted on Doctor Baltar; neither Racetrack's interest nor the other pilot's amusement registered with him.

Lee made a fist and struck the table top, causing the few cubits piled up for the next hand's ante to jump. Baltar flinched at the sound. "Why did I need saving?" Lee repeated, adding emphasis to the first word. "Because you tried to kill me, Doctor." Lee's voice was even, his words clipped, and he infused Baltar's title with no small amount of derision. Then his anger seemed to evaporate and he sat back in his chair, a puzzled grin settling over his face. "And I don't even know why," he concluded, shaking his head.

"I wasn't attempting to kill you," Baltar responded, finding enough backbone to face Adama now that he seemed to have calmed down. "I was attempting to clear the Cylon bio-agent from your body - a presence that was seriously impairing your abiltiy to function, and posing a security risk to this ship, I might add." Baltar's resolve faded before his words were finished, and he looked back at his cards, affecting a weak smile that vanished as soon as it appeared.

"Lies, Gaius," Six purred, moving from Racetrack's chair to stand behind Lee Adama. "Although calling it a presence, that was almost truthful." She leaned forward, placing her hands on the back of Lee's chair. He shifted as though he sensed her, but his glance aside was at Racetrack. Baltar drew a nervous breath, certain that Six would brush her chest against Lee's neck or run her fingers idly through his hair. Six smiled at his obvious discomfort.

"A bio-agent?" Lee repeated, sitting forward in his chair. "That's what you expect us to believe, Doctor, that the toasters can blow some magic powder in our faces and turn us all into zombies?" Again Lee spoke Gaius Baltar's title with disdain.

Across the table the tattooed pilot laughed, but a look from Lee cut him off. Lee returned his attention to Baltar, looking expectantly at the doctor.

Baltar raised a finger as though instructing a student, his face turned toward the tatooed pilot though his eyes were on the small pile of cubits in the center of the table. "Actually there is some medical evidence for the existence of zombies..."

"Shut up, Doctor," Lee said with disgust. "Just shut up. In fact, get the frak out. Just shut up and go. I've had enough of you." Lee glanced aside at Racetrack again, noting her expression – a combination of surprise and consternation. Behind him, Six stood upright and crossed her arms.

"Gaius, you're an idiot," Six declared.

"Well, I don't recall asking your opinion," Baltar answered Six, aloud. Lee Adama looked at him as though he'd just been slapped.

"This is the pilots' lounge, and I'm the CAG," he began. "You're not a pilot, frak, you're not even military. Now get out of this compartment before I forcibly remove you."

Baltar grabbed a fourth of the ante and stood up as around him the room grew silent. Everyone present, it seemed, had paused what they were doing to watch the interplay between himself and Captain Adama. Baltar did not leave, though, instead he faced Adama and Six.

Baltar worked his jaw, finally forcing out his words. "I'm quite disappointed," he said, his gaze switching nervously from the still-seated CAG to the Cylon standing behind him. "After all I've done for you..."

Lee Adama pushed himself to his feet, leaving his hands touching the table with fingers splayed, as though to keep himself from further action. Baltar quick-stepped backward, knocking his chair over, then turned and walked briskly toward the compartment's exit. As he reached the hatchway, he turned back. "If it weren't for me, you'd be dead," he asserted again, his tone defensive. Baltar turned away, then stopped again and turned back once more. "And if I hadn't acted at all, you'd still be a Cylon puppet!" With that he left, stepping quickly through the hatchway and disappearing down the corridor. Lee Adama watched as he departed, his expression torn between exasperation and disbelief.