Title: Gossip
Chapter: Cottle
Characters/Pairings: Cottle, Kara; Kara/Lee
Spoilers/Warning: R
Summary: "Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead." Benjamin Franklin – Secrets spread quickly around Galactica… Here's how.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Author's Note: Edited and updated 1-10-2011.

Cottle looked up at his patient, down at the paper in his hands, and back at the patient. He bit his lip, waggled his head a bit, and decided that this little gem was enough to keep the gossip hounds aboard Galactica satisfied for weeks.

"So what is it Doc?" Kara asked, swinging her legs back and forth impatiently as she sat on the exam table. "I'm not dying, am I?"

"No, definitely not dying," Cottle told her.

"Some kind of virus?" Kara cocked her head, curious. "Flu? Maybe a parasite?"

Cottle couldn't stop the smirk even if he wanted to. "You could say that."

Kara stopped swinging her legs and eyed him suspiciously. "Are you sure I'm not dying?"

"I am."

"Then what the frak is it?" Kara demanded, her hands flying wildly around her head. "I mean, the food on here isn't great but it sure as hell isn't making me throw up every morning. I feel like I'm back in flight school getting smashed every night."

"Well you should definitely keep away from all forms of alcohol," Cottle said. He added thoughtfully, "And no caffeine either."

Kara's jaw dropped. "Then how in Hades am I supposed to fly at 0500?"

"Oh, you won't have to worry about that either," Cottle said matter-of-factly and pulled a cigarette out of the front pocket of his lab coat. He stuck it between his teeth but didn't light it. "Now get out of here. I need a smoke and I can't do that around you anymore."

"Why not?"

"Thrace, are you really that dense?" Cottle shook his head.

Kara narrowed her eyes.

"Look at this." Cottle handed her the piece of paper he'd been looking at earlier. "Get it now?"

"Yeah, so?" Kara looked up at him expectantly. "It says I'm positive. Now if you'll just tell me what I'm positive with, I'll be on my merry little-"

"You're pregnant."

"-way. Really Doc, do you have to always beat around the..." Kara stopped, confused. "What'd you just say?"

"I said that we'll be hearing the pitter-patter of Starbuck spawn in a few short months," Cottle told her, his unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. "You're having a kid."

Cottle somehow managed to catch Kara just before she hit the floor.

"And no falling," he yelped as he strained to pull her into a standing position. "You could damage something." He heard something pop and moaned, "Like my back."

A few short minutes later Kara was pacing in front of the table where Doc Cottle was laying, whimpering. She froze for a second, opened her mouth to ask a question, realized she was still speechless, and then resumed her pacing. This happened five different times before she finally asked, "How?"

"Oh come on Thrace," Cottle said, rolling his eyes. "Do I really need to tell you about the birds and the bees? When a man and a woman fall in love or, most likely in your case, have had too much to drink, they get naked and-"

"I know how," Kara snapped. "I mean... How? I've been injected. I'm protected."

"Were protected," Cottle corrected. "You missed your last appointment."

Kara opened her mouth to protest before realizing that he was right. Reluctantly, she said, "I was busy."

Cottle snorted. "Yes, we've established that."

"So what am I supposed to do now?" Kara asked, sitting down on the table next to Cottle. "If I can't fly, drink or smoke then I might as well be dead."

Cottle thought about this for a moment before saying cheerfully, "There's always gambling."