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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

Author’s note: This is an AU take on Battlestar Galactica where Dualla is allowed to be angry and at times petty. If that’s not for you or if you’re a fan of Kara and/or Lee, then I advise you to slowly back away from my story.

 

 

The two sweaty boxers locked in a desperate embrace swaying from side to side barely managing to stay upright as the crowd cheered them along.

 

"I'm out of here." Sam murmured in disgust.

Dee gave the man a cursory glance as he left, but morbid fascination rooted her to ringside with the rest of the crowd unable to turn away from the spectacle. Watching Lee and Kara beat the ever-living shit out of each other was truly an enlightening experience. The man she married packed more passion in a single punch thrown at Kara Thrace's face than he did in Dee's bed.

 

Now wasn't that some bullshit? Gods, where was her spine? What happened to the nervy young woman who told her father back on Sagittaron, in no uncertain terms, she was joining the colonial military with or without his blessing?

 

She died when the gods-damned Cylons annihilated the Colonies.

 

In the ring, the pair broke apart each surveying the other with caution. Kara's jab and right cross failed to connect but Lee's punch knocked the blonde to the mat. She got back on her feet quickly and landed a blow to Lee's stomach. She moved to press the advantage but Lee encircled her arms with his own pulling her close once more. They began whispering to one another; their aching desperation apparent for the all the worlds to see. Dee certainly saw enough. Taking a cue from Sam the young woman walked out.

 

The lieutenant didn't know if her husband was frakking Kara, but it really didn't matter at this point. Dee was tired of pretending the rumors didn't hurt, sick of the pitying looks, and through with supporting Lee through his nineteen and counting emotional and ethical crises. ‘Til death do us part' was a joke and Lee's vows were the biggest laugh of all. Dee was just a placeholder; a distraction to busy himself with until Kara dropped Sam. No amount of patience and love would be enough for a man who believed he walked away from the finish line with the consolation prize. The naïve girl who wedded Leland Adama with stars in her eyes did not understand that at the time, but she did now. Anastasia Dualla called it a lesson learned.

**

 

"Frak," Dee swore. Consternation and disbelief twisted her lovely visage as she glared down at her bare flat belly. "Frakity frak frak frak."

 

She looked to Doc Cottle who watched her intently.

 

"Are you sure?"

 

The doctor, cantankerous as ever, took a slow drag off his cigarette and exhaled.

"What do you think?"

 

"Frak."

 

**

 

The trek back to Dee's bunk was a surreal experience where she calmly nodded and smiled and interacted with others as if life hadn't just kicked her in the back of the head. As if she hadn't learned she was pregnant two and a half months after serving Lee with divorce papers. As if she hadn't been in the process of healing her wounds and moving on.

 

This wasn't fair. Dee was a good person. She tried her best to do what was right and to treat others like she wanted to be treated. So why did it feel like the gods were punishing her when certain people—Starbuck—treated others like shit under her heel and committed adultery like there was no tomorrow? Why did Kara Thrace get to walk around consequence-free while a cluster of cells lodged in Dee's uterus weighed her down like a ball and chain?

 

Frak!

 

An abortion was out of the question. The Quorum's passage of the Preservation of Human Life Act (POHLA) put an end to that with its ham-fisted attempt to boost humanity's fertility rates. It didn't end the practice of course just pushed it underground. Back alley abortions, though dangerous, were still available for the right price, but Dee knew better than to try. As the former Mrs. Lee Adama, Dee was a very public figure. No abortionist in his or her right mind would risk the certain wrath that would come from aborting Commander Bill Adama's grandchild.

 

As things stood POHLA was a noose steadily tightening around her neck from the moment she strode into Cottle's sickbay complaining of a stomach virus. The doctor had a mandate to disregard doctor/patient confidentiality in certain circumstances. Pregnancy qualified as one of those cases.  Where the averaged colonial was reviewed and monitored by the medical council per procedure Dee knew her report would get fast-tracked to the President who would then inform her good friend,  Commander Bill Adama, of the wonderful news. Barring a state of emergency, Dee bet she had twenty-four hours at most before Lee found out.

 

 The big question, of course, was how Lee would take it. Would he storm up to her full of righteous indignation about finding out from third parties or would he avoid her and wallow in pity over this latest setback in his hopes of wooing Starbuck away from her husband. With Lee, one was just as likely as the other.

 

Dee wasn't there for either option. She was tired of the whole rigmarole and refused to passively linger while Lee made decisions affecting her life. No more waiting. No more sidelines. This was her body and Lee was just going to have to deal.

 

With a resolute little nod, Dee put one foot in front of the other until she completed that shaky walk back to her living quarters. She heaved a sigh of relief thankful for the small mercy of having her bunkmates on duty so she could dive under the bed covers, curled into a ball, and weep her bitter tears in peace.  A baby was supposed to make things better not leave her cornered and trapped. This was not how she envisioned life after "I do."

 

 












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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.