Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Word Count: 600
Summary: There's more to marriage than finding the courage to propose - especially when your girlfriend currently lives in a (nicely-furnished) cell.
Notes: Takes place between seasons two and three.
"Good work, Captain."
It had become a daily routine. Helo and Admiral Adama would go over the day's plans in the admiral's quarters; afterwards, Helo knew the old man would visit Sharon, and he made sure to time his own visits appropriately. This time, however, there was a note of hesitation in Helo's voice, and the admiral picked up on it.
"Was there something else?"
Helo took a breath. "I'm thinking about proposing, sir."
Adama's face was impassive, but he glanced away. After a moment, he looked up at Helo again.
"I see," was all he said, and after a beat, Helo left.
He played their brief conversation over in his mind for the rest of the morning. I see. I see, what? I see, good luck? I see, even now the crew is splitting apart? I see, I think you're making a huge mistake?
He had been planning this afternoon's visit with Sharon in his head for weeks. The way she'd rush to embrace him when he entered the room (not cell; it hadn't been that for a long time, really, even if it locked from the outside and had bars lining the glass); the way he'd kiss her, run his hands over her skin, whether he'd get down on his knees or ask her while she was still in his arms. In the end, though, Adama's words still weighed heavy on him, and he could barely stammer his way through their conversation.
"Helo?" Sharon looked up at him with dark eyes, and even in his confusion he couldn't help smiling, because he loved her, would always love her, and he wanted so badly to tell her that, to promise -
"Are you okay?" As lines of concern marked her face, Helo forced himself to smile, to forget his conversation with the admiral, to pretend that this was just another visit.
"I'm fine," he said, keeping his voice light with an effort. "Just a little distracted. I'm sorry."
She smiled, and he leaned forward impulsively to kiss her, taking in the way her eyes remained closed for a second afterwards, her lips still parted slightly, as he pulled away.
"Mmm," she sighed, and opened her eyes. "That's better."
"I love you," Helo told her, and that was as much as he could bring himself to say, for now.
"Admiral." Helo turned with a salute to face the old man, who returned it with ease. After a moment, he started forward, and Helo fell into step beside him.
"Follow me," Adama said, and Helo did so, his brow furrowing slightly as they walked.
He stopped when the admiral did, inside a room, obviously officer's quarters and evidently unused, on the other side of the ship. He looked around, waiting for the old man to speak.
"What do you think?" Adama asked finally.
"About what?" More confusion in his voice.
"About your new quarters." When Helo didn't answer, Adama spoke again. "Are they big enough for two?"
"Sir?" Searching, now, for the meaning behind the old man's words; one was readily apparent, and Helo tried not to jump to it too early.
The admiral seemed to sense his hesitation. "Unless you plan on having your wife stay in the brig."
"No, sir." Helo couldn't quite suppress the smile that played across his lips. He raised his hand to salute sharply, and the old man stepped forward, after a minute, to pat him on the shoulder.
"I imagine you have somewhere to be?" he asked, and Helo didn't bother trying to suppress his smile at all.
"Yes, sir," he said.