I Shall Believe

by Chione

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. BSG is someone else's property, and I'm just borrowing them.

Authoress' Note: I realize this story has been done lots of times before. Baby!fic is all over the BSG fandom, but I'm hoping mine is just a little different. Anyway, that's what I like to read, so it's what I felt like writing. Please let me know what you think.

Picks up mid-flight in Maelstrom. Kara never spotted the bogey, and thus never exploded.

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The moment her helmet was off, she was sliding down the ladder and hurling the contents of her stomach on the floor of the hanger deck. Hushed whispers from the deck crew did nothing to deter her from hacking her stomach up through her throat. Acid burned a track up from her belly accompanied by a flavor that could only be described as foul, and she swore to herself for the third time that she was never eating algae--processed or otherwise--again.

Finally, stomach muscles fluttering and mouth raw, she rested back on her heels and hoped the bout was over.

The nausea had kicked in about halfway through CAP, but she wasn't about to tell Lee. He was worried enough about her state of mind; Lee finding out her body wasn't up to snuff didn't sit well with her. He should've just labeled her nuts and grounded her. It would've made this whole thing a lot easier. Instead he asked her to trust in him, if not herself, and gave her that damned pitying look. His eyes told her all she needed to know. How could she have fallen so far? He wondered. How could the mighty Starbuck burn out? Fall apart? Lose it?

She wanted to know the same frakking thing.

"Captain?" Tyrol's voice piped up from over her shoulder, quiet and unobtrusive.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she twisted her head the side, looking away from the mess she'd made on the deck. "Yeah, Chief?"

"You okay?" She didn't need to see his expression to know he didn't want to ask. Seemed no one wanted to deal with her these days. Not that she blamed them. She didn't really want to deal with herself either.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She pressed her feet to the floor and rose, turning around with a grin slapped on her lips. "I'm fine."

"Right." Tyrol nodded and clapped his hands together, motioning to Jammer. "Grab a bucket and get this cleaned up! Back to work, people!"

Apparently a crowd had gathered while she'd been puking, and she waved to them as they dispersed. Exactly what she needed, more people gossiping about her. Not only is Starbuck losing her mind, she's losing her nerve too.

She saw Lee standing by her viper, arms crossed over his chest and brows drawn down in concern. If he didn't stop looking at her like she'd fall apart at any moment, she'd hit him.

Except she didn't have the energy to spare.

So she brushed past him. Scooping up her clipboard and a pen for the post-flight, she fixed her eyes on the paper and ignored the slight shadow stretching across her arm as Lee stepped up beside her. Maybe he'd get the hint, although given his track record with her, she doubted it.

"Kara." His voice was enough to make her lose her train of thought. That pissed her off, but she refused to raise her head.

"Kinda busy, Lee."

He put his hand on her elbow and held it tight. His eyes were narrowed on her face, waiting for her to turn to him. Sometimes she wondered if he was really a cylon. How else could his eyes pin her in place like that, bore holes in her til she cracked?

It was with a huge swallow that she met his eyes. "I don't really want to talk about it."

He took the clipboard from her hands without losing her gaze. "Look, Kara. If you're tired, shaken up, tell me. I'll take you off rotation for a few days, let you get things together. It happens to us all," he said, taking extra care to emphasize the last sentence. "Even the best. But we need you as close to your best as we can get. We need every pilot we've got."

She closed her eyes. "Even the screw-ups?"

His lips pressed together, but he didn't respond. When she opened her eyes again, he was still staring at her.

"Kara, what happened?" He continued with a tight smile, "Things went well out there."

Squashing the urge to yell at him, to shout the truth to the entire ship, she shook her head. "You're right, things did go well. I'm a bit sick of this whole life, to be honest, but who isn't? I didn't throw up because of that. I haven't been feeling well this week. It's no big deal."

"Then get some rest." Grinning, he reached over and ran a hand through her sweat-soaked hair. "You look like shit. I'll take care of the post flight."

She wasn't about to argue. Raising her hands in mock surrender, she smiled at him warily. "Yes, sir."

As he started backing away, he tilted his head and touched two fingers to his forehead, giving her a salute and a cocky grin. "Good flying with you, Captain."

She managed a white-lipped smile and a small nod, pushing back the tears. She'd be sick on the floor again if she didn't get out of there now.

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"So how long have you known, Captain?" Doc Cottle's voice was far from amused.

"About three weeks."

He took a deep breath around the cigarette in his mouth. "I should report you."

She leveled her glare at him, a challenge in the quirk of her lips. "Should or will?"

"Should," he answered, shifting his attention down the the papers in his hands. "You're blood pressure's good, and everything is as healthy as can be expected. If you rest and take care of yourself, you'll be inflicting us with one of your offspring in six months."

She leaned her head back against the pillow and admired the ceiling of sickbay. A familiar sight. Maybe that's why she'd been putting this off for so long--that or denial. Ignore it long enough and it'll go away. Apparently, though, pregnancy didn't work like that. It tended to just get worse over time.

And she was getting fat.

Not being one for the traditional feminine paranoia about her looks, the surge of---shame? regret? that arose when her pants wouldn't come up past her thighs shocked her. Of all the things to be worried about. It was a constant reminder that her pregnancy wouldn't go away; this thing was going to be with her for the rest of her life.

She was going to have a baby, and after that, a child, and then a teenager, and then a whole other adult person that she made and was responsible for.

"Yeah." She tried to swallow with a dry mouth. "Just doing my part to repopulate."

"Spare me." Cottle pulled the cigarette from his mouth and blew smoke out into the room as he spoke, "I'm sending the report directly to the Admiral. You're grounded until further notice. You'll be able to pull light maintenance shifts and CIC if you want, but no more flying until well after the birth. Keep your exercise up, but don't overdo it and don't get yourself into any physical fights. Make sure you rest when you feel tired, and eat when you're hungry. The nausea should pass in a few weeks."

Nodding, she rested her arms across her stomach. Still didn't feel real.

"Are you going to tell me who the lucky father is or continue ignoring it?" he finally asked.

She shrugged. "Logic would tell you my husband's the father."

"You're not logical. And you and I both know it can't be Anders'."

Pursing her lips, she dragged her eyes from the ceiling and swung her legs off the side of the bed. "It doesn't matter, Doc."

He shoved open the curtain, muttering "The hell it doesn't. I guess we'll see when the thing comes out."

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"She's what?"

"Pregnant. A full three months. I've already put her on reserved duty."

Bill Adama sighed, running a hand down his face. "All right. Thank you."

Hanging the phone back on the wall, he sat himself down in his desk chair and dropped his head into his hands. Kara pregnant. He'd never thought--well, she wasn't the first pilot to find herself in such a situation, and he knew she wouldn't be the last. The human race needed babies, after all, and that's what happened when people grew up and married. But somehow, he'd never imaged Kara being a mother.

She was a pilot--a viper jock. A survivor. Shit happened to Kara and she got over it. But motherhood? That wasn't something a person just gets over, even Kara. For all he knew she was a woman--he'd seen a softer side, back before the worlds ended and the two had grown close as father and daughter--and she'd once been engaged to his son, Kara Thrace had never been mother material in his mind. He always figured his grandchildren would come from Lee.

"Bill? Is everything all right?" Laura asked, poking her head around the corner to where he was sitting.

He jerked his head up and scooted the chair back to stand. "Yeah. Everything's fine." Closing a file on his desk, he averted his eyes and kept talking. "That was Cottle on the phone. Apparently one of my pilots is pregnant."

A smile blossomed across her face. "That's wonderful news. We need babies, even if it takes a pilot out of the air for a few months--"

"It's Kara."

The president was silent for a moment, though her smile remained. "Captain Thrace? That's--unexpected. But she's been married for some time now, it's only natural she'd be ready to have a child."

He shook his head. "I don't think this was planned."

"These things can be happy accidents."

Looking up at her over the rim of his glasses, he nodded slowly. "Yes." He walked around his desk, putting an arm around her waist and leading her back the way she came. "We should get back to dinner. I'm sure Lee and Dee are wondering where we are."

They rounded the corner to where the small dining table was set up. Lee and his wife sat side-by-side on the opposite end from where Bill and Laura took their seats.

Lee quirked an eyebrow at his father. "Problem?"

They four had been dining when the phone call pulled Bill away, and when he didn't immediately return, the president had been sent to fetch him (and to make sure there wasn't catastrophic news to be had, as happened from time to time in their lives).

"Nothing serious," he replied, settling himself in his seat and reaching for the bottle of the Chief's brew in the middle of the table. Refilling his glass, he took a long drink before glancing over at his son. "I heard you flew CAP with Starbuck today. How did it go?"

Lee shrugged, doing his best to ignore the look his wife was giving him out of the corner of his eye. "Fine. She seemed kind of reluctant to fly at first, but once we were out there, she was fine." He poked at his dinner with the fork. "She threw up afterwards, which is unusual for Starbuck, but not anything to worry about. Pilots do it all the time after a tense flight."

Laura tilted her head toward Bill, thoughts carefully guarded in her eyes.

"She's been grounded until further notice." Bill said, drudging up the words from deep in his belly. They sounded rough, and scraped against his throat.

"Grounded?" Lee set down his fork. "Cottle left that choice up to me."

"Not anymore. She's pregnant." He took another sip of his drink before setting the glass down and meeting his son's eyes.

Lee's mouth dropped open, his jaw working to speak but no sound forming. The clang of Dee's fork hitting her plate startled him out of it, and he coughed a little, clearing his throat. Finally, he spoke, "Pregnant?"

"Yeah. Explains the throwing up, doesn't it?" Bill asked. "Never thought I'd see the day Starbuck had a child."

The encroaching silence was deafening.

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Kara threw her dirty socks in her pile of laundry and flopped back on her bunk. Hot Dog was snoring up above her and somewhere in the room, someone was smoking. She could smell it, and if they didn't put it out soon, she'd find them and throw up in their lap. People thought she was a bitch before pregnancy hormones got involved; they were in for a rude awakening. Children were not in her life plans, but if she was going to suffer through this, everyone around her would too. Misery loves company and all that.

Abortion had crossed her mind when she first suspected, despite it being illegal. There were ways. But life was something special, especially out here in the middle of space, on the run. With what was left of humanity clinging together for some kind of existence. The Gods had enough to punish her for--she didn't need more on her conscience. So a whining, pissing brat seemed to be in her future.

Kara Thrace would never make a suitable mother, and she certainly didn't want to try. But she wasn't just Kara Thrace. She was Starbuck and she could do anything. She never backed down from a challenge and wasn't about to start.

It took her a moment to realize she was well on her way to sleep. Fog had descended over her mind and senses. Her legs were still dangling over the edge of the bunk, and if she fell asleep like this, she wouldn't be walking for a day or two. Somehow, lost in her thoughts, she'd managed to close her eyes and drift away.

Long day. It seemed like weeks ago when she'd given the Admiral the Aurora statue, instead of mere hours. Not only had she seen a bloody child sitting in her viper, she'd flown with Lee for the first time in months (before New Caprica, maybe--she couldn't remember, and that told her it was long enough). They'd had an actual conversation.

Wherein he revealed how happy he was in his marriage. Exactly what she didn't need.

"I'm happy for you. Really. But I thought you shoud know--I'm pregnant with your kid."

Yeah. That conversation would go well. She really had a talent for frakking things up.

Everyone's got a skill.

Pulling her legs up on to the bed, she rolled over and tucked her knees up to her chest, facing the wall. Lee probably wouldn't believe her anyway. She'd never told him Sam was sterile. A year on an irradiated planet will do that to you.

Closing her eyes, she pushed any and all thoughts of men and their idiocies aside. She needed sleep.

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Dee waited until they were back in their quarters and the hatch was closed to speak. She took off the jacket of her dress blues and hung it up in the closet, keeping her back to her husband. "How could you do this, Lee?"

He tossed his jacket on the back of a chair. "Do what?"

"I'm not stupid." Jerking things around in her locker, she tilted her head down. "It's only been a month since you supposedly stopped frakking her. You know as well as I do that kid could be yours. And I don't know how you could be so stupid as to get Starbuck pregnant."

"Dee--" He reached a hand to rest it on her shoulder.

"Don't tell me it's not yours!" She turned and slapped away his hand. "Because you don't know, do you? You're not sure. It could be. And then where will we be? You promised me you were through with her."

Cupping her face in his hands, he waited until he held her gaze before speaking. "I made a mistake, Dee, I admit that. And yes, it is possible that I--" He paused and blinked harshly a a few times. "It is possible. But I don't think it's mine. She'd be more than a few weeks pregnant."

"We don't know how long she's been pregnant."

"Then we'll just have to wait and see. But I told you I was done with her, and I meant it. You're good for me; Kara isn't. I know that." He brushed a kiss against her forehead. "I married you."

Blinking teary green eyes up at him, she bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah."

She stepped around him and started getting ready for bed while he stood in place, running a hand through his already mused hair.

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She awoke to the sound of hushed voices just beyond the curtain of her bunk. As consciousness slowly returned, the mumbles and soft ups and downs of deep voices became more coherent.

"She's been asleep since 2100." She knew that voice--Hot Dog.

It was only a short outlet of breath, but she knew immediately who was about to speak. There was only one man who could sigh quite like that.

"Let her sleep. I've already taken her off the flight schedule." Lee.

"Sir. Is it true she's pregnant?"

"You'll have to ask her that."

There was a strangled laugh from Hot Dog. "No thanks, sir. I'll just wait and see if she gets big or not. Dead giveaway."

In her mind's eye, Lee was shaking his head. "Get out of here, Costanza. I've got to talk to Starbuck when she wakes up and we both know she's not a morning person."

Hot Dog was asking if she was pregnant? Digging her teeth into her lip, she clenched her eyes shut. Doc Cottle must've already told the Admiral and word had gotten around, even if only in rumor form. She'd known it wouldn't be long before everyone knew, but less than a day?

Life on a battlestar.

She took a deep breath, rolling onto her back. Lee was waiting to talk to her, which meant he knew. He'd asked Hot Dog to leave, cleared the rest of the bunkroom if the lack of noise was any indication, and was sitting just on the other side of her curtain, arms crossed, boring holes in the fabric until she woke up and faced him.

Yeah. It was gonna get messy.

Maybe he was here to chew her out, CAG to lead pilot, for getting herself grounded. She doubted it.

If she took her time getting up, he'd sit there the whole time--the stubborn ass--stewing all the while and working himself up. A bitchy Lee was not something she wanted to deal with presently, but it was inevitable and she'd never been one to run from confrontation.

She ran from the fluffy stuff, like love and affection. Fights she could handle any day.

Before dread could stay her hand, she reached out and flung open her curtain, meeting the fierce blue eyes on the other side.

"Hi Lee."

"Kara." He looked exactly as she'd imagined, leaning against the table in the middle of the bunkroom with his arms crossed and jaw locked.

"How long have you known?" he asked without inflection.

"A month." She'd only known for a day, since Doc Cottle confirmed it with a blood test. But she'd strongly suspected for a month (longer than the three weeks she'd told the doc) and she and Lee both knew which answer Lee was looking for. "Give or take."

"A month," he repeated. The skin around his mouth was taut. "Were you going to just keep flying?"

"No. I went to Cottle willingly so he could confirm it and assign me to reserve duty."

"What are you planning to do?"

She swung her legs up and over the side of the bunk so she faced him upright, hands bracing her. "I'm not planning on doing anything. These things apparently progress pretty well on their own. I get to just lay back and wait for six months before I can pop the kid out."

He blinked several times. "Six months."

"Yeah."

She barely finished the word before he cut in--"Is it mine?"

That was the question they'd been dancing around. The white elephant in the room, and he'd demanded an explanation for it.

She was Starbuck; she lied a lot. She could bluff her way out of a Cylon basestar crawling with inquiring skinjobs, and she knew it. But lying to Lee about this--that would cross a line she didn't want anywhere near.

His stare was penetrating, but all she could focus on were the blue of his eyes, the shape of his jaw and smooth, high cheek bones. Even familiar and comforting after all this time, they made her stomach churn in a way that pregnancy did not. She wanted this child to look like him.

Sliding her hands over the gentle swelling of her abdomen, she glanced down, away from his gaze, and answered, "It's mine."

"That isn't what I asked."

Of course it wasn't. But he should've known better than to ask. He didn't want the truth--that was clear when he chose his wife over her. She's put herself on the line for the first time in her life, offering to divorce Sam for him if he'd still leave Dee. The answer was no. Because he didn't trust her, didn't want to deal with her shit, and couldn't bear to leave his sweet and adoring wife. She couldn't honestly blame him. But none of that changed if her child was his. She wasn't about to ruin his marriage when things were "the best they've ever been." The statement may have flogged her heart every time she thought about it, but he was happy.

She'd ruined enough. It was getting old.

And she was tired. Allowing herself to fall back against the mattress, she turned her head to put her face in the pillow. She was tired all the time now, and being knocked up wasn't the cause. Exhaustion was her constant state of existence. What did normal feel like? What did rested feel like? They were dreams of a long-lost world.

Special destinies, children, frakking toasters and their prophecies, the Eye of Jupiter. The end of the world. Shooting her best friend. Sleeping with one man and marrying another. Could her life be anymore frakked up?

"Kara." His voice told her he wasn't going to let her get away with avoiding him. He really had some of the worst timing in the world.

"What, Lee? What do you want me to say? Why does it even matter?"

"It matters!"

She jerked to her feet, narrowly avoiding the top bunk with her head. "Fine. Yes, you contributed approximately half of the DNA for this thing. And yes, I'm sure. Sam can't have kids; in case you didn't realize, he spent more than a year immersed in nuclear radiation."

His sharp intake of breath made her pause, but only momentarily. She pressed on in a quieter voice. "So are you happy now? I gave you the answer you asked for. Did it change anything? Did it make us any less married to other people? It means nothing, Lee! It can't!"

She'd run out of breath by the time she finished, and her chest heaved, though she didn't think she'd done anything to be winded. He hadn't moved from his spot, hadn't shifted his gaze, and every moment he was silent broke her heart. Why had he come? What had he been trying to accomplish, if anything? She couldn't stop herself from asking.

"I had to know," he said. Without looking back at her, he spun on his heel and walked out, leaving the hatch open so she would watch him moving down the corridor. She'd expected nothing more.

It hurt to be right.

It's good to be wrong.