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WHO: Sam Anders and Lee Adama
WHERE: Lee's quarters
WHEN: Today
WHAT: Lee breaks his shower and calls the repair service. He doesn't get the repairman he was looking for.
WARNINGS: None

[ It's such a stupid job. Just because he's a Cylon doesn't mean that he knows how to fix every machine that breaks down. He doesn't. He isn't a repairman. He was a scientist first. A musician. A pyramid star. A Viper pilot. He has no idea how to do starship maintenance. He barely knows how to do Viper maintenance.

But the powers that be on this ship had given him a job and when the call comes to go perform it, he doesn't really have any choice. He could refuse, sure, but there's a small possibility that he'll know what to do and he figures that he might as well try to be helpful. At least he'll meet another one of his fellow travelers. After the Galactica, he thinks it'll be nice to talk to someone who doesn't look at him with wary distrust or fear.

Sam reaches his destination before too much time has passed and, after a doubtful glance at his toolbox—some of which he doesn't even know how to use—he knocks on the door. Then he plasters on a friendly smile and waits. ]

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[ Logically, Lee knows it's a compliment. Logically. But, there's a part of him that wants to be confrontational, just because it's always been so easy with Sam. Humans are strong. Stronger than the Cylons likely planned for. But, ultimately, Lee knows this isn't a fight that's necessary. ( Not that most of theirs have been... ) That's not to say he doesn't bristle a little at the comment, because he does. Prickling up just like a cat. His jaw works for a moment, but, in the end he says nothing. He tries to give a smile back, but he's just paying lip-service. ]

Ah—yeah. Yeah, sure.

[ Not like he can really rush him or anything. If he can't fix it, he can't fix it. It's not a big deal. There's another shower to use. Lee leans against the desk, positioning himself to watching Sam if he feels like it. He doesn't. Lee's gaze is trained on the floor and he casts about for something to say. Anything to help this from lapsing into awkward silence.

But what is there to say? Does he ask what Sam remembers? Should he ask about Earth before everything literally blew up? Does he ask if he thinks they did the right thing? Lee has no idea how to be all that personable with someone like Sam. Even if they reached some sort of understanding once... Is it possible to do it again? He exhales a breath. ]

Kara's gone.

[ Wow. So, that wasn't what he meant to say and even he seems startled by it. But, now that it's out there, they might as well get the hard topic over with first. ]

[ Setting to work, Sam wraps the end of the arm of the faucet with the film, creating a seal that he hopes will both hold the head in place and keep the water inside. He thinks he'll ask around after he gets back to the office and send someone better versed in this kind of repair in to deal with it. For now, at least, he's moderately confident this will hold.

So far so good, even if things are awkward and tense. At least, it is until Lee makes his announcement.

Ah, yes. The one topic he'd wanted to avoid. Though perhaps it's better that they address it now and not allow lingering resentments to fester even more than they already have. Turning away from the shower, Sam looks into the adjoining room from the bathroom.

Kara is, and possibly always will be, a complicated subject. But with the return of his memories and a complete understanding of who and what he is, Sam has clarity and perspective he had not had on the Galactica. He recognizes now what he had always known and chose to ignore: Kara did not love him. She cared for him in her way, he's certain, but she didn't feel the love and passion one ought to have felt for one's spouse. That gift she gave to Lee and more the fool he for ever believing that she might feel the same for him.

Why she married him, he'll never truly know. He suspects Lee understands that better than he can. What he does know is what it feels like to be loved. Thousands of years ago, before the destruction of Earth, he'd had that once. And maybe all it had ever been with Kara was the futile pursuit of a forgotten memory.

He looks at Lee for a moment, studying him, weighing his words, before he finally says softly, sincerely; ]

I'm sorry for your loss.

[ Because it's a loss he thinks Lee feels more keenly than he does. For all that he'd loved Kara, Lee had loved her far longer. And better. Probably deeper as well. After only a slight hesitation, he adds; ]

And I'm sorry for... [ Floundering with a succinct way to sum up all the bad blood between them, Sam makes a vague sideways gesture with his hand. ] Well, everything.

[ Because if they had been in competition, it's clear to Sam that he lost. He can admit it and move on. That seems the healthiest option. ]

I should've handled it better. I didn't. I was jealous and angry and I blamed you. But it wasn't your fault. I realize that now.

[ Well, that's kind of where Sam would be wrong. Because, see, he never really understood anything Kara did. At one time he thought he might have. But, then he realized that she was just always going to be something unable to be understood. She was a bit like smoke. Difficult to catch, but clung to you as a constant reminder of both good and bad choices. Kara had always been a wild card. Lee never really knew what to do with her. At one time—several times—he'd loved her. Even now he does, but it's different than what he felt before. After what had happened to Dualla it was a difficult thing to try and reopen his heart. Even now he shoulders the guilt and wishes he'd done things differently. He can't blame Kara for getting swept up into her orbit, he can only take the blame unto himself.

He looks pained for several passing moments; hiding his emotions was never a thing Lee was any good at and it still holds true. His heart thumps heavily and he swallows several times around a sudden lump forming in his throat. Though he doesn't mean to, when he opens his mouth he laughs. But, the sound is mirthless and mostly air. An action to break the tension building inside of himself. ]

Pathetic, right? [ Lee's voice is a little thick, a little rapsy. He shakes his head slightly and still can't really look at Sam yet. Not yet. ] I was jealous and angry, too. [ And not even just with Sam. But with his brother and... everyone else she seemed to turn to instead of him. ] And frakked so much up along the way.

[ He sniffs then exhales a long breath through his mouth, wets his lips and tries to say something. He flounders, quiets, then tries again. This time, eventually, he does look at Sam. ]

I'm sorry. [ It's not what he meant to say this time, either. What he meant to say was to tell Sam he didn't need to offer any kind of apology. Lee was the one who frakked up. Not Sam. He can't accept that apology. But, subconsciously—apparently—he realizes this is something they just have to do to move on from this. ] I shouldn't have— [ ...done a lot of things he did; he scrubs a hand over his face; ] Well, I just shouldn't have.

[ He doesn't hate Sam because of all the stuff with Kara. He hates Sam because he's a toaster 8V ( jk ) ]

[ It's a difficult conversation to have and no matter when they tried to have it, it would still be hard to get through. Sam thinks it's good that they're doing it now instead of waiting. Waiting would probably only have caused resentment to grow and get worse. This way, he hopes—optimistically, foolishly—that they can get through it and put it behind them. Because what's on the other side of it has got to be better than what's on this one.

He looks at him, but it's the kind of focus that's soft and hazy. He's watching and paying attention, listening to what Lee's saying and what he's trying to say, but he isn't scrutinizing or judging him. The time for that has passed. ]

Apology accepted. [ He says it quietly, not so immediately that it sounds like he's being disingenuous and not so forcefully that it sounds like he's lying. He isn't doing either of those things. ] I mean that. What happened to me, it—Well, it put things in perspective.

[ Sam doesn't say he'd like them to be friends. Maybe some day they will be, but he can't force it. They need time to process everything that's happened, both to the fleet and to them personally. Once they have, who's to say what path they'll find themselves on? Sam's certainly been surprised before. Maybe he will be again. ]

And I've put this shower head back on as well as I can. But I'll send a real plumber out to have a look at it, all right? I used to have a busted old thing in my apartment on Caprica that I fixed a few times, but I wouldn't say I'd good at things like this.

[ Maybe some day they will be. If they'd met under normal circumstances, Lee believes they would've been. But when ill feelings are there from the start, it's sort of hard to figure out a way to get beyond those and figure out the right way to proceed. He's trying not to keep old grudges. Even if it is hard. But, his life has been starting to change. Whether it's for the better or worse, Lee has no frakking clue.

Maybe he's supposed to learn something here from all of this.

Of course, he doesn't know what that is so he can't really say one way or the other. Much like he doesn't know if he's supposed to keep on this track or just let the derailment about the shower happen. Might as well just let it go. What more is there to say? ( Besides the things they've both buried deep and won't show themselves until alcohol or anger pries them loose. ) So, Lee just breathes and rubs a hand over his face. ]

Yeah, sure. [ Lee makes an aborted sort of gesture. ] It's probably fine. If not there's a head down the hall. [ He offers a small lopsided grin. ] Nicer than the racks on Galactica, huh.

[ Despite everything, or maybe because of everything, Sam laughs. It comes out as a snort that rolls into a breathless kind of laugh. It's true. The facilities here are better than what they had on Galactica. Everything's better. The lighting. The width and height of the hallways. The atrium. The food. The exercise areas. The size of the ship.

Although, considering how old the battlestar was, it's not really that surprising. ]

Yeah. [ He nods, still smiling a little. ] It sure is. It's a shame the old ship wasn't more like this one, for how long everyone was cooped up on it.

[ Packing up his stuff, Sam leaves the bathroom and starts toward the door. He can't stay and chat like they're friends, but he doesn't just want to leave without... He's not sure. Making a gesture, maybe. Trying to bridge the distance between them, for familiarity's sake if nothing else. So he stops mid-way there and looks at Lee. ]

Listen, if you ever—I mean, it's nice. Seeing a familiar face. You ever want to, I don't know, talk or anything, let me know.

[ There's probably always going to be a nostalgic pang in his gut whenever he thinks about Galactica. So much happened with that ship. And now he'll never see it again. He remembers vividly when he'd wanted to never see the Bucket again. And now he's looking back on it fondly through the lens of a man who's lost everything familiar. Lee knows the universe stretches on almost infinitely. Space is so damn vast. But, in that, it's familiar.

He looks in Sam's direction but not fully at him. There's a distant, glazed look to his expression while the thoughts swirl in his head. Sam, too, is familiar.

So, maybe being here isn't the worst thing that could happen to him.

He's lost within his own thoughts that he nearly misses the offer Sam makes. It filters through his own internal angsting on the topic of his life and he looks at Sam only slightly startled. ]

Oh, um. [ Intelligence runs deep. He gives himself a mental shake and nods. ] Yeah. It is nice, yeah. [ Because it is. He's not just paying lip-service there. ] Same to you. [ He lifts a hand in a slightly dorky send-off. ] I'll see you around, Sam.

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