New Mexico / June, 1958 / 07:22

[bingobangobongo]

When Calavicci awoke, it was early. Too early to mention. Morning loomed as a concept -- darkness lingering in the pre-dawn hours. The horizon was just taking on some color, showing the contrast between the earth and the sky.

The drinking the evening before, coupled with the ridiculously long day they had shared sent Thrace to bed early. Albert had followed rather quickly, draped just as unceremoniously on his matching, opposing twin bed. The bed and breakfast had turned out to be a fine idea; a quiet and discreet get-away that appeared to be empty aside from the two of them.

Wiping away the sleep from his eyes, the young Lieutenant took a glance at his newly-found companion and was surprised to see she was already awake. He could tell she knew he was up -- her posture changed and her back straightened. Al squinted at her. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

He nodded and dropped back onto the bed, inexpertly tugging the bed quilt over himself. Covered from shoulder-to-knee, Calavicci tried to think about how nice it would be to catch a few more hours of sleep, but he was deterred from his goal by a niggling feeling. He listened to Kara's breathing, much shorter and hardly even compared to her sleeping state. It left him uneasy -- enough so that he didn't think he could cater to sleep.

"...borrow your car?" Barely there, her voice lost much of its inflection and strength.

Al sat up and found she'd turned even farther away. Her hair obscured her eyes, expression, everything the minimal light in the room would have allowed him to see. He was no fool, though: Being the type to appreciate women also afforded him insight into their mannerisms, and he could tell that something was definitely wrong. He nodded, even if Starbuck couldn't see it. "Yeah, I'll get the keys." While he had no clue where she was going, the way she said it told him he'd been right: something was amiss.

The keys were where he'd left them, half hanging from an empty beer bottle by the opener. Palming the keys, he fretted over the idea that he might never seen his beloved Lisa, the shiny red Corvette, ever again. He doubted Thrace would intend to steal it, just worried she might borrow it for a lot longer than he would have liked. "Sure I can't talk you into breakfast?" It was a puerile question in lieu of the mystery he'd already unraveled, but he thought it might help to break the tension.

When the Captain didn't answer, Calavicci frowned deeply. She had her hand outstretched for the keys, but she just didn't seem interested or able to respond. He took several tentative steps towards her and asked again, "Are you--"

"Fine," she snapped through her teeth and jabbed her palm-up hand at him in solicitation of the keys.

Al avoided her arm, small movements bringing him around her bed. Almost immediately, he could see the problem. Her knee, already aggravated from her crash landing, had swollen noticeably overnight. So much so that he could tell even with her flight suit covering it. Probably agitated from the minor amount of walking they had been forced to do while being held captive. He sympathized, familiar enough with trying to escape when there was no clear exit.

"Here." The offer of the keys didn't come without some hesitation. "But before you go--"

Thrace shook her head. "Don't." Her tone was low, almost dangerous.

But Bingo was not one to be put-off so easily. He cleared his throat and sat down uninvited next to her. "Now hold on, hear me out, all right? I think if you're going to take my car, you'd at least better let me have my say." Immediately, he could tell Kara was uncomfortable with the idea, but she remained sitting, her free hand pressed into her thigh, just above the knee.

Al cleared his throat, but it didn't help him to sound any more awake. "I know you're probably going to just... just go, but I'd like you to consider letting me help. I'm no doctor, but I can help." He'd dealt with his share of injuries and knew the principles of first aid well enough to feel confident in what he was offering. "Peeling off into the desert as fast the those wheels will take you is only going to distract you for a so long." He was pretty certain that had been her intention, and when she turned her determined face to look at him, he worried he might have been exactly right. She looked like she was in a considerable amount of pain and he hated to see it, but he wouldn't press.

For too long, they shared the quiet and the dark. The young Lieutenant could feel that she was shaking. The pressure she was putting on her upper thigh looked to be all she could do against the aching, swollen knee aside from grinding her teeth. "I would like to help," he finally revealed, hoping to take some of the stress or the decision off of her shoulders. "I promise I won't enjoy it too much."

Starbuck laughed, but it was more than that. Gasp, groan, hiss? All of it came out, pushed to the surface by his ridiculous comment. She only looked over for a second, but it was as clear an answer as Kara could give at the moment.

///

Preparations rarely went so smoothly. Calavicci took the steps in stride and precisely planned his shopping trip through the more intimate rooms of the bed and breakfast. He begged some Bufferin (a poor choice for this application, but better than nothing) from a locked downstairs bathroom, borrowed a tea towel full of ice, and outright stole a bottle of liquor from the cabinet, two glasses from the minibar, and a pair of shears from a kitchen drawer. It left him far too thrilled for his own good.

Hurriedly, he closed the door, noting the Captain had moved. She was pacing. Al deposited his provisions and fixed her with a look, dark gaze traveling up, lingering on the knee in question. Their eyes met and Kara lifted her chin. Needing no translation, the Lieutenant held off on any thoughts of lecturing.

"I've brought some things that should help." It wasn't so much a reminder of his intent as it was a reassurance that at least some relief was at hand. He took to emptying his pockets, dropping the bottle of Bufferin onto the bed.

Kara held her position. She didn't really like the idea, but she required Calavicci's help. She could have taken the car while he'd been gone but he was right: Even if she could drive, the throbbing pain in her knee was one hell of a distraction when she was at rest. She didn't quite know how to respond. "Uh, thanks."

Bingo busied himself with prep work, silent and dutiful in his task. His mind was wandering. He heard her shuffling behind him and it struck chord. That was a certain amount of stubborn bullheadedness there, wasn't there? He recognized that in the Captain as he sometimes did in himself. It would solve itself soon enough, he imagined. For as much resting as she had done, the pain appeared to have deepened. Rest would be a necessity.

His first step was simple. He lit a cigarette and immediately passed it off to Thrace. She took it, hit it, kept it and watched him. Calavicci then plucked up the bottle (it was whiskey) and poured two hearty double shots, each in a borrowed glass. He offered one and she accepted it with her other hand, leaving her without those extra balance points.

"It's a good pain reliever," Al explained.

Starbuck, hands shaking, dropped back the alcohol without a pause. She ran her arm across her chops and finally she sat. "You in pain?" Since he was drinking, she thought she'd ask.

"I'm here, aren't I?" He shook his head, an unfortunately short row of laughter escaping him. "It's a shame to have to drink alone."

Thrace nodded and watched him drink it down slower and smoother. And then he collected her glass and coupled it with the other.

Next was the Bufferin. He gave her two, but he didn't have any water. No matter, she took them dry, swallowing and succeeding to get them down unaided. Kara didn't know if it was the alcohol or his approach, but she noticed some relief. Only now remembering the cigarette, she ashed it in her free hand and took another hit. It seemed absurd to act so normally.

"You're going to have to let me get a look at that knee." Al's voice, low and gritty, was not commanding at all. It was curiosity, in part, but he also felt she would assess the damage done much differently than he might. If the roles had been reversed, the Lieutenant would have been professing his ability to run a marathon and dreaming of crutches in between his words.

Kara had been expecting it. "Yeah, fine." She hadn't looked in a while, anyway. Bingo held up the scissors, but she shook her head and passed off the almost dead cigarette before maneuvering herself halfway out of the flight suit. If it was all she had left of her old life, she wanted to preserve it.

Al tried hard not to look too intently. Under most circumstances he would was stared rather unabashedly, but he knew there was a time and place for such things and this was not it.

His first glimpse of the damage was a redness at her thigh where she had been pressing for who knows how long. It wasn't anything serious. Below that, the damage was more extensive. Her knee was angry and bruised but mostly just swollen. He could tell there had been troubles there before but he didn't need to tell her that. "It's pretty bad," he told her in the most sober of manners.

She didn't respond but she knew he was right. It would have been nice to have good, old, familiar Doc Cottle there but that was far too much to ask.

When he went to retrieve the tea towel and ice, Calavicci came back to find that Thrace had relaxed back a little more. The Bufferin was probably working some of it's magic and the ice would help even more. As carefully and gently as he could, he pressed the makeshift coldpack against her knee and winced in empathy when she did.

It was strange for him to be so close to a woman without being in a more intimate position. His fingertips touched her leg in one place or another while he held the pack; Al could tell just how rough his hands were in comparison. On another occasion, he certainly would have taken the time to show his appreciate for the female form but he, for once, couldn't put his mind of the sexual nature that could be gleaned from such proximity. Factually, he couldn't even relax until he felt that extra tension, caused by his application of ice, leave her.

Kara placed a hand next to his on the tea towel, taking charge of her own care now that he had provided some relief. Their hands didn't touch, but the contrast was enough to gain both their attentions. Al, olive and tanned, stood out against the tea towel and made Kara's pale hand look somehow smaller.

Calavicci felt like it was a quiet moment of understanding. They weren't all that different -- similar in principals and thrills, ambitions and expectations. When he finally removed his hand, he saw the look of appreciation in Starbuck's tight smile. But really, he didn't think it was anything she wouldn't have done for him.

Comments

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Kara was grateful for the relative comfort of the ice on her knee - the swelling already seemed to be lessening, and she was sure that once she could get a hot shower, the steam would do the rest of the work. It wasn't a permanent solution, she knew, but the temporary respite from the pain, coupled with her marathon of sleep left her nearly giddy.

"I don't rate breakfast, Lieutenant?" she asked, tipping a half-grin at him. Pointedly, she reached around him and plucked the bottle of liquor from the bedside table. She worked the lid free one-handed and took a long pull. Wiping her lips, she replaced the bottle, and got to her feet. The knee took her weight, but she didn't want to push it, so she approached the en suite slowly, leaning heavily on the wall as she went.

"I'm going to shower. Don't drink that all without me, all right?" Her smile was a bit more tense that time around, but it was sincere. Pulling the door closed behind her, she gratefully climbed out of her clothes and stepped into the shower.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

He figured he'd have to be pretty hard-up to finish the bottle before she returned, but he obliged with the comment with an unseen nod anyway. He stood and called through the door, "I'll probably run downstairs and see if I can scare up some clothes and a little food. Don't have too much fun without me." Calavicci wasn't too keen on leaving her on her own, but he definitely needed to get out of uniform if they were going to keep moving together.

The air still held a bit of a chill when he found the outside world. Like nearly every other day, the sky was big and blue and clear of clouds. It would be a good traveling day -- good enough to get Thrace to somewhere more civilized where her knee could be properly cared for.

It wasn't far to the car, but Bingo took the long way around. Parked off the street, the cherry Corvette stood out enough that he felt the whole of the town's eyes on him as he opened the trunk. His rucksack was a start, so he threw it over his shoulder and headed in the direction of the bed and breakfast.

It was about seven-thirty, so he worried breakfast might have already passed. Thankfully, there would be somewhere in town that served food when they finally took their leave.

Back in the room, Bingo listened to make sure the Captain was still conscious, then began removing some clothes from his bag. For himself: A white undershirt and button-down, and a pair of gray slacks. He left the remainder for her to scavenge as he sought over an ironing board and iron. Wouldn't do him to go out with wrinkles, would it?

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Kara wasn't half so concerned with wrinkles as her compatriot, and she selected a rumpled button down from the offerings. Pants were more difficult, and her lack of clean underpinnings further complicated things, but she made due with a pair of pajama bottoms tied tightly and a thin tank.

She washed her clothes as best as she could in the bath tub, and by the time Calavicci returned, they were hanging up to dry and she was nursing another glass of the smooth brown liquor. It probably wasn't completely sensible to drink on her empty stomach, but it sure quelled the itch Kara felt to pace and aggravate her injured knee.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Like a routine performed a thousand times, Al tended to cleaning himself up and changing while Kara waited. He certainly had an expression of amusement at her attire, but couldn't deny a certain sensuality in seeing a woman traipsing around in his clothing. Not that he felt he could go as far as to say as much to her (yet,) but he was thinking it pretty seriously as he assessed her.

"Think we might have missed breakfast," he informed her, eyes wandering where they shouldn't. "We could stop somewhere unless you're not feeling up to it." At this point, he would probably eat a horse given the opportunity, but he deferred judgment to her since she was the one on the lamb.

He reclined halfway on the bad, taking the last cigarette and placing it between his lips. "I'd make you somethin' if I had the supplies," he revealed in his most charming manner, keeping the smoke unlit in hopes of preserving it a bit longer.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

She waved him off, pouring two... make that three fingers of liquor into the other tumbler. Sliding it a little closer to Calavicci, Kara gave him a sidelong smile.

"We can stop somewhere." It couldn't hurt, not much anyway, and Kara probably needed a lesson in local culture if she were to detach herself from the unlucky lieutenant's hip any time soon and fend for herself.

She leaned closer and plucked the cigarette from between her lips, took a quick drag, then offered it back. "Where to from here? Not that I'm complaining, but I don't think I should linger too long around here."

Her initial instinct was to return to her Viper and begin to nurse her bird back to life, but a smaller voice nagged at her brain and made her reconsider. She needed to get out of sight for a bit, do some research, and plan her escape. And she planned on doing so alone - she'd hobbled along far enough with the young pilot's aid.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

The way she was moving around, Bingo was going to be hard-pressed to want to leave. If nothing else, he recognized his spirit in her and that alone was enough to make him feel alive and interested. He took a long, thoughtful drag and held both the smoke and the booze leisurely as he relaxed on the bed. "Well, Captain, I think our next move should be civilization. Las Cruces is probably too close, and as much as I enjoy touring you around the deserts of the southwest, I think I could use a change of scenery. Not sure how far you're lookin' to go, but I've got some connections in Alamogordo and a few more in Albuquerque." Loose connections, but better than nothing.

When he offered the cigarette back, he turned his attention to the drink. It took three tips, but he finished it right quick and set it aside with the intention that enough was enough (especially if he was going to be driving in the daylight.) "Unless you're thinking lingerin' might reveal the real excitement hidden in this little dust bowl." If they kept drinking, he thought it would definitely be possible.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Excitement? Kara laughed and accepted the cigarette, keeping it between her lips and reclined into the pillows. Addressing herself to the ceiling, she replied, "Whichever one's farther away." The larger the distance she put between herself and the Air Force base, the better.

She took another drag and passed the cigarette back. Having had plenty of time to think while she tossed and turned in the wee hours, she'd considered what she could tell the lieutenant to earn the trust he seemed place in her.

"I know what I have tell you isn't going to make much sense to you, because honestly it doesn't make sense to me either." She shrugged needlessly and glanced at him sidelong. "But I'm not from around here, really not around here, and I dunno if I can get home or not." She paused and sat up on her elbow, taking a sip from the tumbler, draining it.

With a small sigh, she went on. "So if you just get me a little farther from here, you can continue on your way and forget you met me, okay? 'Cause I'm not your problem." And she hoped she sounded more sure of herself than she felt. Kara Thrace prided herself on her ability to thrive in any environment, but she was the ultimate stranger in a strange land at the moment, and panic was beginning to blur the edges.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

It looked like they were going to Albuquerque. But not yet. Kara's revelations piqued Bingo's interest in such a manner that he lifted from his lazy position and turned to side on the side of the bed. "Ah, Kara..." He hoped he'd earned that much. "I don't know why you would believe for a moment that I could walk away from this, because we've caused some trouble. Together. Whether we part ways or not, someone's going to come and askin' me questions. They've got your plane and my information. It's only a matter of time." He certainly wasn't speaking his mind because he wanted to scare her, but the thought he was even beginning to unsettle him. He was going to his cool, though.

"'Course, that doesn't mean we're sunk. I think I can find you some help with that knee and even if we can't get your plane back, I'm sure there's someone who can fly you back home. I know a whole buncha guys from back in the Academy days -- someone'll owe me a favor." But, of course, Al just wasn't quite getting the big picture -- the universally epic nature of her words.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

"No one from my home'll be asking you any questions," she reassured him, a bit of steel inserted into her voice to keep it even. Her gaze strayed to the window. "And I'm father than a plane-ride home."

She looked away from the bright blue sky and eyed the bottle perched on the nightstand, but only for a moment. She couldn't keep at it no matter how much it eased her aching knee and the pain in her breast - at least until she was somewhere where she felt safer.

She swung her legs off the bed and put her bare feet on the floor. Stripping a pillowcase from one pillow at the head of the bed, she used it to collect her meager belongings (along with anything she might later find useful, like the tiny bottle of shampoo and a pen and pad of paper). Once she was through, she turned to him at last.

"It's nice of you to offer, but the less you have to do with me, the better." It was certainly true that she tended to be a bad luck charm, but she didn't exactly want to go into why; she hoped he'd just leave it at that, but she doubted he would.

Clinton, OK / June, 1958 / 23:15

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Clinton, OK / June, 1958 / 23:15

The motorcycle had been a good choice. Despite their earlier line of thinking, Bingo suggested Texas was a better choice for dinner, and since they'd just eaten, Thrace seemed game. Their stop-off in Amarillo, Texas was brief. Still, steak was on the menu, and when all was finished, Calavicci thought that Thrace looked like she hadn't had a good, cooked meal in a long, long time.

Determined and sitting on a full stomach, Al pushed them on with the journey. The long days of summer stretched on, affording them light nearly through the end of the leg. Oklahoma, flat and vast, stretched into the darkness ahead forever and ever. They shared the road with few other vehicles, and Al often broke the speed limit by more than a dozen miles per hour.

Rolling into the outskirts of Clinton, Oklahoma, the pair of pilots were just in time for the night life. Unfortunately, there was no nightlife to be had in Clinton, Oklahoma. Especially on a Wednesday night.

Calavicci parked the bike in front of a quiet bar and waited for Thrace to make her way off the back. He imagined her leg was probably pretty stiff, so he'd offer her the time she needed. "I'm going to ask someone inside about a place to bunk for the night. You want anything?"

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Kara was already working knots out of her hair, and she shook her head no. She took in the sights as she waited - or really, she took in the lack of sights. It was bleak and dark for miles, but the skies above were glittering with stars.

She walked to the edge of the short lot and stretched her leg. From the low throb of music coming from the bar, she presumed this was the only game in town if someone wanted a drink. No matter - she wouldn't need it to sleep tonight; after all day spent clinging to the bike as they flew down the highway, she was exhausted. Still, she wouldn't turn down a drink should the lieutenant offer.

He rejoined her a few minutes later, a cloud of smoke and noise erupting from the doorway behind him. Kara lit a cigarette of her own, shaking out the match and taking a drag. "All set, Mr. Fox?" she asked, struggling to see his features in the dark.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

"Ehh..." That probably didn't sounds good. Reaching up to scratch at his head, Bingo found himself suddenly more interested in the stars than answering her question. He knew he could only stall for so long, though. "They said they weren't sure there are any rooms left. Don't know what could be going on in a place like this, but it's going to be 'bout too late for anything if we try for Oklahoma City." Which didn't leave them a lot of options.

Bingo solicited the pack of cigarettes and lit one, tossing the bar match to burn out in the dirt of the parking lot. After a drag, he spoke up again. "Fellow inside said there's a campground here. Couple miles north. We could rough if we don't find anything in town. Or," he added, enticingly, "we could dig up some chow, scare up some drinks and just call it a settled. I'm not real picky," he admitted, though he probably left off "in this case."

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Travel through the desert was one thing, but camping? Even if they found a stand of trees, Kara doubted the frosty night air would do well on her knee. If she couldn't hold the bike with her legs, they were SOL. So that left door number two.

"Let's go inside," she said, nodding toward the bar. "The night's still young." And it wasn't, not really, and if they were going to travel all day tomorrow, she presumed they'd have to sleep at some point (though Kara could remember quite a few times she'd reported after an entire night spent out).

Either way, dinner and drinks sounded better than a fire and the ground, so she led the way. Inside, the joint was fairly jumping in a tame, local bar sort of way. The bar was populated with grizzly old ranchers and farmers, but there were a few younger people gathered round the jukebox and pool table. Neither Kara nor Calavicci earned more than a passing glance, so she assumed nightly drop-ins by travelers was the norm. Great - hopefully no one in Clinton would remember them if they laid low.

Tables were slim pickings and the three booths were occupied, but Kara found them a recently vacated spot far from the door and close to the bar. Best seat in the house, as far as Kara knew.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Following her lead, Calavicci silently ordered two on the way past and took a seat across from Kara. The smoke from his cigarette mingled with the rest of the bar smoke, nearly all the patrons adding in one way or another. "Don't know what they've got for food here," he admitted, and boy was he starving. "Could use something like a hotdog." Any which way it's served!

He clasped his hands together and leaned his elbows onto the table, looking across at his companion. The beers arrived and the tender went away. "So, anyway, I was thinking we wouldn't have to even get that early of a start tomorrow if you're feeling like you can make the ride without stopping to much. I don't have to check in until Friday morning, so I've got some wiggle room." At least he was trying to be mindful of her plans.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

She agreed silently with him about being hungry, but for the moment, the frosty beer was doing more work than even the steak had done in Texas. She sighed in relief and lit one more cigarette, promising herself it'd be her last for the hour.

"That's fine," she said. Anything bearing her further from the crash site was probably in her best interest, no matter how long it took. During the long ride, she'd mourned her dead bird silently, but she knew she couldn't go back for it. The best she could do was reconstruct the means to return to Galactica on her own (which would be one hell of a feat without coordinates anyway).

She leaned closer, grateful to stretch her back and her legs beneath her. With a lit cigarette and a drink, her fingers itched for cards to shuffle, and she glanced around for a game. Nothing was stirring (and even if something was, she wouldn't know the rules), but it didn't mean she couldn't find one later (and hopefully be able to glean the run of the game quickly).

Looking back to Calavicci, she quirked an eyebrow. "Let's talk about the space program - kind of a big deal, isn't it?" She hoped it was, but Kara had a feeling luck was on her side in this matter - nothing thus far had given her cause to think Earth traveled between worlds, at least not by rote. Anything rising on that horizon was bound to be pretty elite - and elite meant security clearance to Kara.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Taking his lead from her, he sipped at the cool beer, washing down miles and miles of dirt and dust. He could have used a shower, but since one wasn't available, he tolerated himself. For now.

When he lowered his beer, there was a coy smile behind it. "A bit of a big deal, sure." He thought she was leading him to boast but didn't call her on it. "I mean, it's not something that everyone can do. The waiting list's a bit ridiculous, but I'm coming in with some pretty decent rec's, so I'm hopeful, y'know?" And if ever there were a time a person could accuse Al Calavicci of having stars in his eyes, this was it. The prospect of being one of so few to travel out in space was just the type of thing Bingo wanted to add to his military record. Aside from that, chicks really dig astronauts.

"I figure it'll be five to seven years with all of the training. Navy's footing the bill -- joint service and all -- so I get to do double-duty whenever the higher-ups see fit." He seemed up to the challenge, face lit with the prospects of being the best of the best.

And now that he'd given freely, he leaned himself forward, mirroring her position. "Not that I should be telling you any of this, Kara," he mused. But hadn't they been through a lot together, already? And it wasn't as if a civilian wouldn't get the same information when applying to the same position. How could it be sharing secrets when the knowledge was openly available?

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Kara tossed back a wry grin. "Who'm I going to tell?" She lifted her eyebrows and took a long drag of cigarette, leaning back in her chair. "And anyway, how do you know I'm not part of your training?"

It sounded absurd, but Kara had heard from a few Marines that some of the Special Forces had been through training exercises that included such odd guerrilla tactics as testing while the Marines weren't even expecting it. It was for only the very elite groups, something that Kara had never aspired to, but the notion had stuck with her.

Not that she expected Calavicci to buy it, not when she was smirking at him, clearly making a joke. And anyway, the lieutenant was brighter than he looked.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

They managed to wait almost two hours before making a stop. Most of the ride had been spent seated in a comfortable silence. For once, Bingo didn't mind being out of the driver's seat; Kara had proven herself quite capable. Had it been many other women, he wouldn't have ever given up the keys.

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma became their lunch destination, since breakfast was long past. Everything went smoothly, allowing the two unassuming pilots-in-civvies to slip in and out of town without incident.

It was right around dinnertime when Calavicci began to realize that no matter how hard they pushed, the time allotted for the remainder of their trip was running short. Two days worth of twelve-plus hours of driving was doable, but not nearly as easily on a motorcycle. They made better time, but found themselves stopping more often to stretch their legs and get rid of some of the kinks in their bodies.

By the time they rolled into Memphis, Tennessee, it was well into the dinner hour. Bingo signaled their stop -- a small general store, alight in pinks and reds thanks to a rather bright neon sign out front. If anything, Al loved Memphis for it's color. "That's some good ridin' today, Starbuck, but if I don't find myself a shower, a change of clothes, and some proper rest soon, we're going to be in for one miserable ride tomorrow." He could only just imagine the angry muscles of tomorrow compounding on the angry muscles still remaining from today and the days before. He reached back, grasping the back of his neck and squeezing the muscles as he daydreamed over the idea of a cute little masseuse with a tight little tush taking care of him. "You on board with that?" He asked it as if it didn't matter, because it didn't. As far as she'd said, she had no solid plans. The only one the stop was going to fuck over was him. He'd just have to call in, let 'em know he'd be late, and then hope for the best.

Already, he was buttoning up the bike. He took the twenty dollar bill he'd stowed the evening before, offering it over to Thrace. "You might as well take this. I know you got nothin', so at least if we get separated, you can call a cab. Just let me know if you need more." He never was the selfish type; he'd give her all the money he had, simply because he rarely had time to spend it, and he was always making more.

He gestured at the hokey little general store, The Memphis Merchant, and told her, "For now, I'm going to get us some smokes and see what else I can find. Maybe they'll be able to point us towards a nice sit-down place, too."

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Kara took the bill and stashed it in her pocket with a murmured thanks. She'd been quietly keeping track of the notes he used - the numbers were simple enough to grasp, but the cost of things was either ridiculously low in this place or the money was worth an awful lot. Either way, she'd never even seen him use a note marked 'twenty,' she assumed it was worth a lot. She doubted she'd ever be able to repay him - frak, she didn't even know if she'd see him again after tomorrow - but she intended to do her best to do so.

When he disappeared into the general store, she naturally couldn't help wandering just a bit. Two doors down, there was a shop that seemed to sell nothing by 'space-age' appliances. They sure looked like something out of a pulp novel about the future to Kara, but there sure as hell had nothing to do with space. Beyond that, there was a coin-operated laundry, and just one more down sat a dusty-looking secondhand. Figuring she needed a change of clothes since all she had was on the floor of Al Calavicci's car two thousand miles back, she nipped inside.

Dust swam in the murky light inside the store, and the place reeked of old things usually found in attics or basements. Kara always liked the atmosphere of such places - they reminded her of her dad's junky old loft with its many well-loved pieces of furniture and broken down recording equipment he was always halfway done with repairing. She didn't want Calavicci to think she'd run off on him, though, so she stepped out of her reverie and bypassed the many tables and racks, heading straight back to where the clothing had been hung.

She selected another pair of trousers - twill, she guessed as they felt like her dress uniform - and a cotton blouse that was feminine enough she wouldn't stand out too much. She turned to carry the items to the counter when a swatch of blue caught her eye. A dress was a frivolous waste of the money Calavicci had given her, it really was, and Kara wasn't the dress-wearing type. However, her companion had said 'sit-down' for dinner, hadn't he? She'd already surmised it was out of the ordinary for women to wear pants, and she supposed she'd attract far too many unwelcome stares if she were to wear slacks anywhere that didn't cater to a jukebox-loving crowd. So really, the dress was a completely practical purchase (at least, that's how Kara justified spending a quarter of her cash on a pretty dress that was just a gorgeous shade of blue).

She paid for her purchases and went back onto the street just in time to see the young lieutenant surveying the spot he'd last left her with dismay. "Lose something?" she asked sweetly, joining him.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Bingo smiled at her question. "Guess not." But, of course, he hadn't thought she'd robbed him -- just maybe that she'd slipped away to make it a little easier on both of them. He wouldn't have liked it much, but he wouldn't have blamed her, either. Lots of people liked to solve their problems by just walking away, himself included.

He leaned to try to peek into her bag, but Kara put a hand on his chest and firmly pressed him back into place. Bingo raised an eyebrow and then fished out a cigarette to think over. "Whatcha got there? No, wait, I don't wanna know," he tagged onto the end. "I keep forgetting, the less I know, the better." Which seemed almost like a complete joke at his point. The young lieutenant was beginning to think he knew Kara Thrace better than a lot of his long-time buddies.

Bingo lit and puffed at his cigarette, then turned on his heel and looked around. He couldn't quite wait to take Kara around Memphis, a city he had visited many-a-time. Life there was rich and interesting and no matter what direction she chose, they'd be afforded a great number of options. "Let's find a place to sleep first. I'll follow your lead."

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, 'cause you really agreed with my last selection," Kara laughed, stepping around him, choosing the direction they'd been heading in before they'd parked. She was teasing of course, and she'd be happy to do the honor of picking a place quickly so they could freshen up before dinner. As far as she was concerned, any place that wasn't up a tree had her vote.

There was still a faint glimmer of sunlight competing with the eager stars, and the buildings lining the street were limned in a dark cerulean glow. They'd passed through enough tiny little towns and hamlets that Kara recognized a city when she saw one. It was nothing to compare with home, but at least there were a few more sights to see than a fill station and a bar. No, this place seemed to be teeming with cozy-looking bars, out-of-the-way clubs, and was that... yep, there was even a brothel right there on the main street. It was discreet, but Kara spotted it for what it was straight off, so it wasn't doing that good a job hiding behind the thin veneer of Madame Mathilda's Charm School.

She could see now why Calavicci had talked the place up so on the most recent leg of their journey. It was charming in its own way. It'd never rival even the smallest cities On Caprica (or even on Aerilon for that matter), but it felt... homey. Not that Kara was looking to settle down, but still, she had a mind to return someday, didn't she?

Well, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it. For now, she was content to cross the street to a stately-looking B & B. Confident as you like, Kara slid her arm into Calavicci's. "Good enough, sweetie?" she asked, batting her eyelashes innocently. Playing Jo, the little wife, would never come naturally, but at least she could make it fun.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

"If you picked it, I'm sure it's perfect, honey." It felt absurd that he was enjoying himself so much. He had responsibilities and orders and his career, and ever time he made a reckless decision, he put those things in jeopardy. But the Navy could wait. For him, they'd wait, just as long as he could get on the phone and turn on that Calavicci Charm.

Arm-in-arm, the make-believe couple took to the Bed and Breakfast and managed to impress themselves into a room with a decent rate and a decent view.

///

Their ruse had left them silly and excited when they should have been run down from a long and arduous ride. Bingo took to the shower first upon Starbuck's insistence, washing off the dust and the dirt and the grime. It felt nicer than he would have ever imagined.

Kara took her turn almost immediately after, leaving Bingo to get himself ready in the living room. The view -- a bay window overlooking the neon-lit rows of businesses and houses -- held his attention for a while. People were out, many of them dressed for the evening festivities. If there was one thing that made Memphis stand out, it was the fact that there was always something happening. Sure, sometimes you had to know the right place to look, but Albert was seasoned enough that he didn't feel they'd have much of a problem in the excitement department.

For the time being, he changed into the only clean clothing not in need of pressing that he possessed: a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Being a man of occasion, he had options, but he wanted to see what Thrace would be sporting before he decided what to wear himself.

"I hope you're hungry, because I'm starving" he called into the bathroom well after he'd heard her turn off the water.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

She replied in kind, intending to hurry because she was hungry. She stepped into the dress, relieved to find it fit, if it was a bit... clingy. There was nothing to be done for her hair, so she pulled it back and into a ponytail. To her own eyes, she looked like an especially grown up thirteen-year-old with one bruised knee, a scraped elbow, and not a lick of make up, but it was the best she was likely going to do.

At last, Kara returned to the bedroom, head held high as though daring him to tease her. "Are you ready, or do I have to wait on you to preen in front of the mirror again?" Don't think for one moment Kara hadn't noticed how fond of his own reflection Albert Calavicci seemed to be.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Upon sight of her, Calavicci's eyebrows hitched up his forehead, and his jaw quite nearly dropped down to his knees. He was quick to clear his throat and recover, though. "Jesus, Thrace, you gotta warn a guy before putting on a number like that!" Because, really, he was feeling like she didn't have much of a right to blame him now that his eyes were lingering where they shouldn't. Not that she was, but most every woman did, eventually.

Bingo didn't think he had much easily accessible that would look appropriate next to her sweet blue number. Rubbing at his cheek thoughtfully, he considered his uniform (probably still wrinkled and in miserable shape from their first night together) and debated on the likelihood of making it look decent.

With The Great Debate filling his head, Al paced in front of the bed and mourned his options. He had a feeling he was going to have to buy something (even if it was really only for his satisfaction.)

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Oh, no, Kara wasn't waiting any longer for supper - over the past few days, her body had really grown fond of the rich food they'd dined on - after weeks on synthetic food and processed algae, actual meat and real vegetables were as wonderful to her manna.

"Come on," she said, grasping Calavicci by the arm and hauling him out the door. "You said you were hungry, and so am I. Let's just go." He looked fine, after all, and he'd fit in better than she would at any rate. Before he could protest too much, she already had him halfway down the stairs.

Outside, the sky had gone fully dark. Young couples were strolling in one direction, and families toting children and dogs and packages were headed in the other. That made her choice easy and she slipped into foot traffic as though she'd been doing it all her life. "Got a destination all picked out, darling?" she asked, smiling cheekily at him.