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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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"And it'd be nice to know that if the money we all get dries up, there's going to be something to replace it," Lee says, and he takes a drink from his own glass again. As far as he's heard, the monthly stipend isn't part of any government program. It's just as unreliable as most everything else in Darrow, it seems. Who the hell knows if it'll stop? Lee relies on that money, and maybe he's not as bad off as others might be, but people who are counting on it deserve some kind of guarantee that it's not going to go away without warning.

"I guess that's all kind of a part of what I'm hoping to eventually convince people of," he goes on to tell her, "We need some kind of representation. Maybe we're a small group, but we're significant enough to matter."

Lee's studying law right now, but more and more, it's become a means to an end. He needs to know how this place functions before he can suggest ways to take it apart and put it back together again. Maybe a lot of Darrow's problems are apparent to someone without a comprehensive knowledge of the law, but that doesn't mean that anyone's going to be partial to an outsider who doesn't know anything. Hopefully, he can change that, eventually.

"Damn right we are," Molly agrees, and then she does smile, just a little. He's right, of course, but it's more than that, too. It's the fact that it at least sounds like he actually means to do something about it. Too many people, no matter what world they're in, don't. They'll sit back and talk about what should be changed, what should be fixed, and they won't even try to do anything about it themselves. She's just one person, and even she'll admit to having gotten comfortable enough in her job here that she has, at times, lost sight of their needing something bigger, but with enough support rallied, they might at least get listened to. Something might happen. "Well, you know, if I can do anything to help, I've got some friends in high places, as it were. And I don't need convincing."

It's a big goal, but God knows she's never shied away from those. Being here is all the more reason for her not to. What time she has, she wants to make the most of it, and that means, too, making her life here as good as it can be, not standing for being a second-rate citizen in a city she never chose to make her home in the first place. It can be easy to feel like nothing will ever really change in a place like this, but just this conversation leaves her feeling optimistic, almost downright fucking inspired, which she thinks would seem stupid if it weren't clear how much he means everything he says. Instead, it's just kind of refreshing.

Abruptly, her smile widens a little around the edge of her glass, staying in place when she lowers it again. "Still feel like you're going to fall asleep on my couch?" she asks. "Or is talking politics not enough to keep you awake?"

"You should bring it up," he says, "If only to find out how an idea like that would go over."

Lee knows that someone needs to do something, but that doesn't mean he thinks it should be him. There's probably someone a lot more qualified for it, but the current government needs to make way for it first. He's not sure if someone should start putting out feelers for someone to be at the head of something like before or after the idea's been brought up to city hall, though.

He takes another drink and answers Molly with a smile. "I think I'm good, thanks," Lee replies, though there was never really any danger of that in the first place.

"I will," Molly says, a quiet promise. She might not be the person to present some kind of outright proposal, but she can definitely ask around, see how that sort of thing might go over, maybe even start to sway people who wouldn't have thought about it or haven't cared enough over to the idea. If they're going to do this — and when she started thinking of it as them, she doesn't know, but she thinks it's clear enough that she'd want to be a part of whatever he can get together — then they're probably going to need support from people who are from Darrow, too, and she might be able to accomplish something on that front. It has helped, being among them, knowing that she's trusted, accepted by them. She may as well put that to even better use. "I'll talk to a few people, see what they say, or if they have any ideas on what might be the best way to proceed."

It's funny, really. She didn't bring him here to talk about any of this, wasn't anticipating this turn of conversation, but she still feels oddly hopeful now. This, for her, has always been about working towards something more, about trying to accomplish something good. If she can have anything to do with bringing about some kind of change here, then she'll really have made the most of her time here, made it mean something. With this impossible second chance, or whatever the fuck number she's up to now, that's as much as she can hope for.

"And good," she says, sipping her own drink in turn. She's not really looking forward to having to get up to refill them, something she probably should have taken into consideration before, but at least that isn't a concern yet, just like his falling asleep isn't, either. "Otherwise I might have had to resort to some other tactics."

It's not until now that Lee has thought about it as something that he could be active about right away. He's an outsider without as much knowledge and insight into local laws as he should have. But having someone already involved in Darrow's government with a vested interest in the matter will definitely help.

It reminds him of the Fleet and the Quorum. Before the attack on the Colonies, they'd have a stable interplanetary government, and while the basis of that served them well, everything had to change, at least a little. Darrow's no different. A lot of them are people who were taken away from their homes, who never asked to be in Darrow in the first place.

He nods when Molly agrees to put feelers out, looking down at his glass for a moment as he swirls the liquor inside.

"Other tactics?" he asks, "Like what?"

Obvious as the response might have been, it's not really a statement that Molly had thought much about before she said it, something meant only to be a joke, playing off his assertion before that she sounded ominous. When she first opens her mouth to speak, she intends for it to be with something else of that sort, some silly quip, since clearly it's not an actual concern at all, and if it were, she probably wouldn't actually try to keep him here. She pauses, though, before she does, and it's enough to take her thoughts elsewhere, his words from moments before still echoing in her head, the whole conversation, brief as it may have been, leaving her feeling distinctly alive.

Once, this whole approach might have been calculated, the sort of thing that she'd have deliberately set up. Now, when she acts, it's on a whim, before she can think through it enough to talk herself out of it. She would blame the fact that they've been drinking, but she hasn't even finished her first glass, and even if that were enough to really go to her head, it wouldn't have hit her that hard so quickly. It's all her, then, her gaze dropping briefly to his mouth, expression a little more serious when she glances up again, though she doesn't stop long enough to take note of any nervousness, or the way her heart is racing.

"Like this," she says, the words coming far more easily than she'd have expected them to, and leans over to press her lips to his.

He feels like a frakking idiot that he doesn't see the answer to his question coming a mile away. But he didn't come to Molly's with any expectations whatsoever. As far as Lee was concerned, she'd asked him over as a friend, as someone with a shared interest who'd be good for conversation. They've known each other for a while now, but it's only been in recent months that Molly has been more than just a passing acquaintance.

Lee's beginning to think that there were signals that he missed. It wouldn't be the first time it'd happened.

She presses her lips to his, and he leans into the kiss without thinking, lifting his free hand up to touch her face. They've both been drinking, but Lee is a long, long way from intoxicated, and he suspects that Molly is too. He's not entirely sure what that means, then, when it comes to this, though, or what Molly's motivation might be beyond that of curiosity.

Or maybe Lee would be better off not frakking this up by over thinking.

It's only when he leans into the kiss and she realizes what a fucking relief that is that what she's just done really catches up to her. She'd taken a pretty big gamble, just kissing him like that, and if she'd taken herself by surprise, Molly can only imagine that the same must be true for him. Maybe if she had led up to this on purpose, it would feel like more of a sure thing, but she didn't invite him up here for anything like this. She never did a lot of thinking about it at all, though she thinks now that maybe she should have, or at least been a little more aware of where this could go. None of this has been a priority for her for a long time, though. If anything, she's shied away from it — not entirely, but substantially, compared to the way things were for her before last summer. She might have flirted a little with Lee, but she hadn't meant much by it, or at least hadn't thought she did. Now, with as much sense as it seems to make, she's not so sure.

There are still any number of questions filling her head, but as she's done in the past, Molly sets that aside for now. She can worry about what this means later. For the moment, it occurs to her that, with Lee kissing her, she feels better than she has in a long fucking time. What they talked about just before this doesn't hurt on that front, either, when she's still exhilarated from the prospect of their actually being able to get something done. But even that isn't much on her mind now, and while it might have had something to do with her impulsively kissing him, it's not the only reason, not why she continues doing so.

Careful not to spill her drink, she shifts closer, leaning into his touch, her free hand curling in the front of his shirt. If it turns out she did make a bad call and has fucked all of this up — and she really, really hopes she hasn't — then she at least intends to enjoy this while it lasts.

There's a certain amount of recklessness that comes from alcohol, be it ambrosia or scotch or any other kind of booze Lee has had in his life. Usually that's what's found Lee in these kinds of situations in the past: kissing someone he hadn't planned to kiss. But they've both only had the one drink, and Lee himself is barely even feeling it.

The taste of alcohol is on her lips, though, and he deepens the kiss, even as he's trying not to think about all the reasons why this is probably a bad frakking idea. His list of acquaintances in Darrow is pretty short, and this has the potential of ending up just as strange as it is between himself and Tommy. Of course, the circumstances are different, but all he can can think of is how they can't string together two frakking words to say to each other these days. After tonight, he's positive that he doesn't want this to end up like that.

Not that he's expecting anything beyond this. He wouldn't be one to object, but he wasn't even expecting this much.

More often than not in her life, Molly hasn't been one to second-guess her decisions, at least when it comes to matters like this. She acts first and thinks later, unless it's something she's been trying to make happen in the first place, consequences be damned; not even getting into some pretty fucking serious trouble could break her of that habit entirely. With as long as it's been since she's so much as kissed anyone, though, and with the reasons why it has been, it's hard not to wonder what the hell's gotten into her, what could have compelled her to lean over and kiss Lee without any kind of prompting.

She'd thought it earlier, though, joking about keeping him from falling asleep on her couch. Not about this, not specifically, but that she feels like herself around him, the girl she was before she wound up half-dead in a hospital room. She just hadn't counted on it extending this far, because she hadn't been considering it as a possibility at all. No matter what questions she might still have, with that being the case, it feels pretty damn good, even if a part of her is aware that she ought to stop, remembering too well what happened the last time she tried to do more than kiss anyone. That Lee is kissing her back does a hell of a lot of good on that front, too.

Blindly, she reaches over to set her drink on the coffee table, her lips parting against his as she draws herself towards him, newly freed hand sliding into his hair. Whatever happens after this, as she's done before, she can worry about it later, when they get there. This feels too much like getting some of her own back, as it were, for her to want to ruin that now.

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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