Sagittarius Is Bleeding: Battlestar Galactica 3 by David Peter

Author:David, Peter [David, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2010-03-31T16:00:00+00:00

Anastasia Dualla had no idea what to make of Billy Keikeya.

It wasn’t the first time she’d felt befuddled by her on-again/off-again relationship with the presidential aide. There was no doubt that they were friends. She enjoyed spending time with him. They’d even had some serious make-out sessions. But she wasn’t entirely certain where the relationship was going, or even if it was going anywhere at all.

So she had invited Billy over to share a nice homemade dinner, which was an impressive achievement considering that she couldn’t cook worth a damn. That little fact had never bothered her before. She had jokingly stated on more than one occasion that she’d joined up with the military specifically so that she never had to worry about making meals for herself ever again. She would just eat her meals in whatever mess hall was on hand and that would be that.

But this night she was getting together with Billy, and she wanted it to be special. The problem was that she had no cooking facilities in her quarters. So she’d gone to the mess hall and convinced the cooks there to let her try her hand at preparing a nice dinner that she could then take out and back to her quarters. There, she told herself, she would be able to boast to Billy that she had made it with her own two hands.

Unfortunately, her cooking acumen did not magically improve as she endeavored to prepare a couple of nice steaks for the two of them. Instead she had come damned close to burning both pieces of meat and only some timely intervention by the chefs on hand had averted disaster. They managed to salvage her efforts and even provide a nice presentation of the meal, which Dualla proudly brought back to her quarters and endeavored to keep warm as Billy ran late.

And later.

And later.

Finally, a good hour and a quarter after Billy was supposed to have arrived, there was a knock at Dualla’s door. The food might no longer have been warm, but Dualla was certainly seething. “Come in,” she said with a tone that indicated all hope should be abandoned by those who entered.

Billy hesitated a moment and considered running in the other direction, because Dualla’s voice made it clear that he was in as much trouble as he already suspected he was. But, deciding to be a man about it, he sucked it up and entered with a smile plastered on his face. He proudly held up an honest-to-gods small plant, with beautiful blue cup-shaped flowers blossoming at the top. He said, “Sorry I’m late. Things got a little . . . crazy . . .”

“For this late,” Dualla said icily, “I’d expect you to be sporting at least three visible wounds.” In spite of herself, she focused on the bouquet he was extending toward her. “You hang up my beautiful dinner which, by the way, I worked my ass off to prepare for you, and you think you can bribe

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