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molly

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By all accounts, Lee has no cause for complaint. Even rough days in Darrow, ones where he's spent an entire afternoon trying to get a handle on a specific bit of court case precedence that's been eluding him for weeks, are better than his worst days on Galactica. He's not fighting for his life here, running and watching his back at every turn. He can makes mistakes in Darrow and not worry about some metal motherfrakker— as Starbuck so eloquently put it once— blowing him away.

In a lot of ways, Darrow is what he'd spent so long fighting for.

In a lot of other ways, it's the worst parts of what they'd hoped to leave behind.

By the time Lee reaches High Gate Terrance, he's frakking exhausted. Not in his bones, like after a dogfight, but mentally. He doesn't think he can even look at another book tonight without losing his mind. Reaching into his pocket for the key to the front door of the building, Lee yawns, even though he knows he's not going to be able to fall asleep once he gets inside for hours yet.

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Molly slides her hand into his hair, and gods, it's been so long since somebody did that that Lee almost can't think straight. He doesn't think to set his glass down, instead holding it uselessly in his hand as he leans into the kiss. He doesn't think that Molly brought him up here just for this— they've gone out for drinks near City Hall before— but ending up here is something he can't find much fault with, in the moment, as much as he's trying not to wonder what might come of it.

He manages to push that thought out of his head for a long moment, long enough to get the feel of her, to brush her hair back gently as he kisses her, one hand on her face, before he pulls away just far enough to talk.

"Molly, what are we doing?" Lee asks, touching his forehead to hers, and maybe he's about to frak this up by overthinking, maybe he should just let this go and let this carry them wherever it goes, but he needs to know.

That he draws back is probably a good thing, Molly tells herself. One of them was going to have to, sooner or later, and she thinks it's better that it's him, and better that it's now, before they wind up getting ahead of themselves, mostly because his question is a good one. She's been wondering the same thing herself. It's been fucking ages since she did even this much; she can't remember who last touched her like that. With her heart pounding in her chest, its rhythm too quick, the chance to at least catch her breath ought to do her some good.

She smiles, though, close against his mouth, as easy as ever. "I'm pretty sure they call it kissing," she says, and leans in to do so again, brief this time, for good measure.

It's entirely a front. The truth of the matter is, all teasing aside, she has no fucking idea what they're doing, and she doesn't want him to know how terrified that leaves her. Not of Lee, or what they might do, but that she might not be able to. Just the fact that, whatever it is they're doing, he doesn't seem to object to it, is a relief, and it shouldn't have to be. Once, there was nothing she was so confident in as her own sexuality. She didn't have to wonder if guys would want her, she could tell when they did, and God knows she could deliver well. Now, even if she did get that far, she doesn't know that the last would be true, and that's a pretty goddamn big if considering how it went the last time. Maybe the logical thing to do would be to just tell him that she doesn't know if she can sleep with him, as much as she might like to, but that's too difficult in its own right. Better to hide behind a coy smile, to act like there's nothing wrong, and deal with everything else only when she has to.

"I think I figured that part out, thanks, " he laughs, quiet, but he doesn't make a move to put any distance between them. It's a smart-ass remark that's as endearing as it is frustrating, because it doesn't actually answer Lee's question. Though, the truth of the matter is, he's suddenly feeling like an idiot for asking at all. Molly doesn't seem too concerned with the meaning behind all this, and maybe he should just let whatever this is take them wherever it does.

"I mean I don't know where you're wanting this to go."

Gods, one of these days he's going to learn to just keep his mouth shut.

It would be irritating, Molly thinks, if it didn't mean so fucking much. Not many guys she's been with have stopped to wonder that, which she's fine with, because she's never needed them to. Now, as much as she wishes it didn't have to be the case, the fact that he hasn't just taken her kissing him like this as an invitation to keep going is something she appreciates more than she knows she'd ever be able to say, her expression softening just slightly for it, more genuine than a moment before. It's just that she doesn't know how to respond, having this put back on her despite her attempt to deflect. There's no way she could tell him that she'd like to sleep with him but she probably can't because she's too fucked up for that. She doesn't want to seem disinterested, though, either. For her, this is uncharted territory, and while she doesn't regret impulsively kissing him, she never wanted to have to figure this out.

"Honestly, I hadn't really thought past the kissing part yet," she says, the words not quite as true as her phrasing would suggest. It's impossible not to think about where this could go. A year and some months ago, she wouldn't have even had to answer, would just have made her intentions clear otherwise. Instead, she can't even bring herself to ask if it's alright if they leave it at that, what would seem too close to what she doesn't want to say. Still, she stays close, not yet pulling back. Whether or not she can go any further, she is enjoying kissing him.

At her answer, Lee definitely wishes he'd just kept his mouth shut. Molly's just as unconcerned about it as he thought she was, and just because they're sitting in her apartment kissing is no reason to read anything more into it. It can be just this, and as rare as that's been for Lee for a long time, there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

"Sorry," Lee says, and he doesn't pull away either, shutting his eyes and shaking his head at what a frakking idiot he is, "I wasn't trying to say... I wasn't trying to assume anything." It's difficult not to at least think about, though, with Molly close like this and with Lee just a bit warm from drink.

"No, I — I know," Molly assures him quickly, teeth pressing to her lower lip, the hand that's been in his hair moving to his jaw. "Don't worry, I wouldn't have thought you were." She can't imagine that he'd have stopped to ask where she wanted this to go if he were just assuming anything, though her heart stutters a little in her chest at the thought that, if he's felt like he had to clarify that, then he probably is thinking about where else this could be going.

For a moment, she's not sure if she's relieved by that or angry about it — not at him, but at herself, for the fact that she can't just pull herself into his lap and take this further, that it has to be a concern at all. Hell, his not trying to push her, not making assumptions, just makes her wish all the more that she could do more than kiss him. Instead, she holds off on doing even that again. The smart thing to do would be to pull away and try to get it the fuck together, but it feels too good just to be close to him. "You don't need to be sorry."

It's not like he's the one who left her irrevocably fucked up, or like it has anything to do with him that she can't get past this. That's on her, and on someone who's long since dead.

"I think... I might have ruined the moment, though," Lee says, with a quiet and nervous laugh, and while he's glad that she's not annoyed that he stopped things for what turned out to be a stupid question, he's annoyed at himself for feeling the need to ask it in the first place. But Molly hasn't made a move to back away from him, her hand still on his jaw, and he covers hers with one of his own.

"But I really hope I haven't."

"You haven't ruined anything," Molly says with a faint smile, almost self-conscious. That much is true. If either of them is responsible for ruining the moment at all, she's sure it's her, when she really fucking wishes her answer to his question could have been a different one. For all that she really doesn't know what it means that he's still here and saying shit like this, if he's done anything, it's put her more at ease. Saying any of that, though, would be veering too close to what she can't bring herself to give voice to. She has something better in mind, her smile widening just a little. "So, I mean, if you're asking if you can kiss me again..."

"Oh, no. Absolutely not. I was going to ask about something else," Lee replies, returning Molly's smile with one of his own, and he doesn't waste any more time before he's covering her mouth with his again, the hand of his that's been resting on hers moving to touch her hair instead.

Despite her reassurances, there'd been a moment where Lee had been convinced that he'd ruined the spontaneity of the moment, so it's a relief that it's so easy to fall into it again. That he gets to kiss her again.

It's not like she doesn't already have a good idea of what he's going to do, between what he'd said before and then his response to her offer. Still, Molly can't help being pleased, and a little relieved, when he does kiss her again, smiling slightly against his mouth as she leans into it. Though it felt good before, it feels better now. The two of them know what they're doing. She doesn't have to worry about not being able to go any further. And while there's a part of her that wishes she could even more now that everything's settled, she at least has the sense to fight off those old instincts and not surge ahead. Better to keep it at this than make things more awkward than she has already by having to backtrack.

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