On the Late Watch
By Angel



"Come on, Boomer "

"No." Boomer continued polishing his gear and cleaning his laser.

"You didn't even hear what I was about to say." Starbuck sounded almost hurt.

"If you need money, I'm broke. If you want to play pyramid, I'm still broke unless you want to play
for mushies. If it's a girl "

"Aha, but what if it's two girls? Two lovely shuttle pilots who needed a date and I promised them
I'd find a couple of handsome warriors for them."

Boomer sighed. "And you're just one warrior and we can't disappoint our pilots...Starbuck! How
many times have you done this in the past yahren?"

"Too many if you've caught on," Starbuck mumbled before turning his most winning smile on his
friend. "Please, Boomer?"

Always a sucker for the big blue daggit-eyes Starbuck excelled at, Boomer sighed. "I didn't have
any plans. Where are we taking them?"

"Don't you even want to know who it is?" Starbuck grinned as they stepped into the elevator.

Leave it to Starbuck, Boomer thought, to get the best table in the nicest corner of the restaurant. He
ordered ambrosa and waited for the girls. Starbuck settled in and lit a fumarillo. The girls were late.

Three bottles of ambrosa and two fumarillos later, the girls were very late and Boomer had gotten to
laughing over something Jolly had said on their last patrol, and couldn't stop long enough to explain to
Starbuck what it was.

Boomer shook his head, trying to make the room stand still. Starbuck didn't light a third or order a
fourth bottle. He rose unsteadily and helped Boomer to his feet.

"Looks like we got stood up, Boom-Boom."

"Looks like." Boomer leaned on his friend and tried to navigate the stairs. They made it in one piece and
found their way back down the corridors of the Galactica to the closest quarters, which were Apollo's.
They couldn't make it as far as the pilots' barracks. Boomer dropped to the couch, lying down with his
feet still on the floor, looking about to pass out.

"Come on buddy, let's get you comfortable." Starbuck, little steadier than his companion, started helping
Boomer out of his flight jacket. He fumbled with the fasteners on Boomer's boots and Boomer sat up
then leaned down to help him.

"You know what ambrosa does to me, Starbuck," he slurred just before he planted a kiss on his friend.

"Oh yeah, no tolerance." Starbuck grinned when Boomer let him up. "Oops."

"Frak the boots." Boomer hauled Starbuck up by his jacket and kissed him again until Starbuck
was moaning under his mouth. The sound of metallic joints pulled them both from the kiss.

"Muffit," Starbuck whispered. "Go away. Go back to Boxey." The mechanical daggit cocked its head
and creaked off. Starbuck looked back at Boomer. Nothing like getting caught to make the adrenaline
sober a pilot up. "Where were we?"

"You were kissing me senseless," Boomer said At least, he tried to say it but it came out mush.
So he kissed Starbuck again.

"Not here, Boomer." Starbuck gave lie to his own words by stripping out of his own jacket and
boots. Boomer fumbled with his uniform fasteners. "Not on Apollo's couch," he reiterated before
he kissed Boomer again.

Boomer rolled off the couch. "On th'floor." He pulled Starbuck on top of him and ran his hands
over his back, working them under the uniform.

Starbuck, still half drunk himself, lay there atop him, feeling the hardness that matched his own
through the uniform trousers. "Boomer, pal, we're gonna be in big trouble if the captain catches us."
He pressed close and rubbed against Boomer.

"Don' care." Boomer was thrusting up against him. "Want you."

"No. We are not doing this." Starbuck rolled off him. He bundled his jacket into a pillow and turned
his back to Boomer. The other pilot took this as an invitation and curled around him, draping one
arm over his waist.

From the shadows of his own doorway, Apollo rolled his eyes and went back to bed.

The next morning, Boomer woke to the Hangover That Ate Virgon. He stirred Starbuck and they
snuck out of Apollo's quarters and back to the barracks. Boomer made it all the way there before
needing the head.

They slipped back into their bunks and pretended to be asleep until the wake-up call sounded. Then
 they showered, dressed and pretended nothing had happened while they reported for duty.

Apollo looked smug as he stood behind the desk in the duty room. "New rosters are posted.
Pursuant to orders from the Bridge, we're rotating wingmen for the next few sectons. Greenbean and
Sheba, you've got patrol." He read down the list of other assignments. "Starbuck, Jolly, Bree and Boomer
 have general quarters policing and maintenance."

Starbuck didn't quite groan at being grounded for the duration. Boomer managed not to cradle his exploding
head and was relieved not to be braving the forces of a launch-tube.

Apollo smiled a little. "Once the patrols have launched, we'll be working on the launch-tubes and then doing
steam purges." He glared at Starbuck. "No falling asleep on duty, Lieutenant."

"No sir, Captain sir."

"Dismissed." As the pilots filed out, he caught Starbuck and Boomer before they made their escape. "And if I
ever find out you've been abusing the passcode to my quarters again, it's going to be a lot worse than launch-tube
cleaning. Do I make myself clear?"

Boomer and Starbuck nodded. Boomer looked about to say something, but held his tongue.

"And just so you remember, the Bridge can see what you're up to in the launch tubes. I trust that both of you
have sobered up enough not to be making out in them?"

Starbuck, remembering what it felt like to be caught in a steam purge, nodded. Boomer just added a soft "Yes,
Captain."

"Dismissed."

As they left, Apollo shuffled the papers on his desk, only to slot the data-tape from Muffit and watch them on his
couch again, this time on slow motion replay.