Ray (rayruz) wrote in tulipfic,

ASBO Caprica (1/3)

Title: ASBO Caprica (1/3)
Fandom: BSG
Rating: PG-13 for language and sexuality
Characters: Lee Adama, Kara Thrace, Karl Agathon, Sharon Valerii, Kat, Laura Roslin, Zak Adama
Summary: AU- Teenage Lee Adama is serving out a community service sentence with several other youth offenders, when a bizarre ice and electric storm ravages Caprica City. The morning after, Lee and the others start to notice strange things keep on happening. 
Length: ~4000 words
A/N: Written for callmeonetrack  who just had a birthday! *throws confetti* she prompted me with Kara and Lee as superheroes which promptly became entirely ripped from the premise of the show "Misfits." You don't need to know a damn thing about Misfits to read this fic though! Though if you know Misfits at all, you will see the end coming a mile away. Beta'd by the awesome leiascully

There were a few things that Lee Adama was certain of in life.
  1. Democracy, while a noble idea, was a flawed system.
  2. Those who profited from the system were not going to attempt to change it.
  3. Orange was not his color.
And yet, there he was, dressed like a giant traffic cone in front of the Caprica City Community Center.

“This is it,” the probation worker, Ms. Roslin, said, walking up and down the line of the ragged squad of youth offenders, “the chance to do something positive. Give something back. You can help people. Make a difference in people’s lives. That’s what community service is all about.”

Lee dug his hands into his pockets and clenched his fists where no one could see them. Glancing down the line, it seemed that none of the others were taking this little pep talk too well. To his right, a tall young woman stood with her hip cocked, toying with her long black hair, which was pulled back into a ponytail. On her other side was a shorter young woman with tan skin and a frizzy mop of hair, her arms folded across her chest. Beside her, a blonde girl rolled her eyes, hands planted firmly on her hips. The last of the group was a tall, muscular guy who looked like he played pyramid and had trouble fitting through small doorways.

Ms. Roslin adjusted her glasses. “There are some people out there who think you are scum. This is your chance to prove them wrong.”

“What if they’re right?” the blonde girl said. All attention turned directly to her, which seemed to be exactly what she wanted. A smirk curved her lips as she planted a firm hand on the shorter girl’s shoulder. “No offense.” She shrugged. “I’m thinking that maybe some people are just born frakked in the head.”

“You looking to get your face beat in?” the shorter girl snapped.

Unfazed, the blonde girl pulled a smug face. “See what I mean?”

Fixing her with a hard stare, the probation worker continued with her inspirational speech. “It doesn’t matter what you’ve done in the past, there is still time to—”

A cell phone ring-tone cut him off. The black-haired girl fished her cell out of her pocket and flipped it open without a moment’s hesitation. “Hey. Yeah, no. No, I’m at my community service. It’s boring as frak.”

“Put that away,” the worker snapped.

“Sorry, thought you were done,” she said, making no move to put the phone away.

Gods! Would you get the frak away from me?!” Frizzy Hair was fuming.

“What? I’m just standing here.”

“She keeps looking at me!” Frizzy hissed to the probation worker, as though looking revealed a much more malicious intent.

“Oh, so looking is a crime now? Why don’t you do something about it?”

“How about I rip your eyes out?”

The blonde shot back some remark, but before Lee could really tell what was going on, the probation worker was prying the two of them apart. This was going to be a very long community service sentence.


Storm clouds were rolling in as the morning wore on. After she’d dealt with the fight, the probation worker presented Lee and the others each with a can of paint and a paintbrush and set them out to retouch the benches near the Riverwalk. It was oddly soothing, certainly mindless work, and Lee took some small comfort in the fact that the others seemed to be leaving him alone.

Or so he thought.

“What about you, weirdo?”

The blonde with the attitude, Kara Thrace, he’d learned her name was, was pointing at him with a still-dry paintbrush. Lee arched an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes in response. “What are you in for? Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but you look like a panty-sniffer. Maybe they caught you peeking in the girl’s locker room, hmm?”

In one quick motion, she pulled down the zipper on her jumpsuit and leaned forward. “Looking for something like this?” Lee’s brain, unfortunately, was about one step behind her and he stared openly at her cleavage for about two second before he whipped his head away. “Do you mind? I’m trying to get this done.”

Kara scoffed and pulled the zip back up on her uniform. “Guess not. Maybe you’re gay.”

Lee rubbed his thumb against his temple, where he could feel the very beginnings of a headache. “Why don’t you enlighten us, Thrace; what are you in for?”

She shrugged, tossing her paintbrush into the air. “I got arrested for eating bar peanuts.” Kara caught the brush and tossed it again. Lee studied the expression on her face—not a trace of a smirk, no hint of sarcasm in her voice. Lords, she was beyond insane.

A crack of thunder rolled overhead. Lee looked up to see dark clouds forming at a pace he was pretty sure was meteorologically impossible. “What the hell is going on with the weather?” Lee looked up to see Frizzy Hair - Kat - picking bits of paint out of her hair as she stared up at the sky.

“Hey, can’t paint benches in the rain.” Sharon, the girl with the cell phone, said and smiled. “Let’s go back to the community center.”

Karl Agathon, who turned out to have never played a sport in his life, shook his head. “Then we just have to come back tomorrow and do it all over again.”

“Bullshit,” Kara hissed. She tossed the paintbrush into the air and kicked it into the reflecting pool.

“Care to tell me what that paintbrush ever did to you, Ms. Thrace?” Lee looked up to see the probation worker, Ms. Roslin, walking towards him with a thoroughly disappointed look on her face. “You all have been out here for half an hour. Painting benches. Does anyone care to explain to me how you’ve managed to mess that up, because quite frankly, I’m at a loss for words.”

Another crack of thunder pierced the sky, this time followed by a deafening crash and a car alarm. Lee looked over to see a nearby vehicle all but flattened by a large chunk of ice. Mr. Adama glanced from his car, back to the group, to his car, and back once again.

Kara threw her arms up into the air. “Wasn’t me.”

“What the frak was—” Sharon never got to finish her question. Another large chunk of ice fell from the sky into the reflecting pool. A decent sized wave splashed up, soaking Kat’s sneaker and half of her pants leg. A third fell onto one of the park benches, which cracked and splintered straight down the middle.

Lee looked up into the dark clouds swirling ominously overhead. Lightning crackled across the sky, which was looking more like 11:30 at night than just before noon.

“Everyone back to the community center,” Ms. Roslin barked. Lee didn’t need to be told twice. He had dropped his paintbrush and was already running.

All around them, ice fell from the sky in large chunks. Bolts of lightning struck the ground too close for comfort. Another roll of thunder and the sky seemed to open up, rain pouring down in a steady stream that soaked the grass beneath his feet, making it hard to keep his footing. The storm was unlike anything Lee had ever seen in his life.

Lee was so fixated on running forward that he hardly paid any attention to what was going on around him or, for that matter, above. Lee felt something grab him suddenly about his waist and send him toppling to the ground. He rolled and landed on his back with a heavy weight on top of him.

It took him a moment to realize that the weight on top of him just happened to be Kara Thrace, and about ten seconds longer than that to realize there was a large chunk of ice where he had been standing fifteen seconds ago. Gods. He could have been killed, crushed without even noticing, but instead…

“Thank me later,” Kara said, shooting to her feet and pulling him up after her. He reminded himself to think about it later; right now, he needed to run for his life, which she had just saved. He kept focused on Kara and followed her lead up the front steps to the community center where the others were crowded.

“Come on! Hurry up!” Kat hissed as Ms. Roslin shoved keys into the lock.

“Yelling at me isn’t going to make this happen any faster,” Ms. Roslin replied, tripping over her words as she fought with the lock.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t fast enough. The last thing Lee remembered was a crack of thunder and a bright light before everything went dark.


Morning hit Lee in the face like a bright, orange jumpsuit. No. Wait. He was actually being hit in the face with a jumpsuit.

“Rise and shine, juvenile delinquent!” Zak’s voice grated on Lee’s ears before he could even open his eyes. He could just imagine the smug grin plastered over his younger brother’s face. “Come on. Up and at ‘em! Not even getting caught in a deadly storm gets you out of doing time, bro!”

“You’re loving this way too much,” Lee grumbled as he sat up.

“Me? Nah. Just trying to help.” Zak grinned.

Lee snatched the jumpsuit from Zak’s hand and tossed it in the direction of his backpack. “Oh who am I kidding? This is great! Mom hasn’t said a thing about my straight-D grades all week. You’re actually in trouble. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day.”

“Out,” Lee said, kicking back his covers.

“Sure, sure,” Zak said. He held his hands up in mock defense. “I’m going to go get breakfast together for my favorite convict.”


Zak scampered out the door, humming a dirge as he went. Lee let out a deep sigh as he hauled himself to his feet. He made his bed, dressed, and brushed his teeth almost on autopilot. He shoved the orange jumpsuit to the bottom of his backpack and hauled it over his shoulder before finally making his way down the stairs.

Zak was still humming darkly as he spread butter and jelly onto a piece of toast. He dropped it onto a plate and pushed it towards Lee. “Eat up. You need fuel for painting over graffiti and picking up garbage.”

Lee studied the plate. “This does not constitute a healthy breakfast.”

“It’s better than you’d get in jail,” Zak reminded him in a sing-song tone.

Lee shook his head and picked the toast off the plate. He finished it in three bites, eager to just get on with his day. The clock glared 8:55, and Lee nearly choked on the bread. “Frak! Zak, why didn’t you wake me up sooner?”

He didn’t even wait for a response. Lee sprinted out of the kitchen and down the front corridor, desperate to make it on time. The runner in the hallway, however, seemed to have other ideas. Lee’s sneaker caught on a wrinkle in the rug and he could feel his balance going before he started to fall.

Lee’s hands shot out in front of him, bracing for impact against the door but he never made contact. The next thing Lee knew, he was sprawled on the front porch, facedown on the welcome mat. He sat up, brushing himself off. His palms were scraped up, bleeding a little, but he was no worse for wear. He figured must have hit the door so hard it flew open, letting him spill out onto the porch. It made perfect sense, aside from the fact that the front door opened into the house. Looking back, Lee saw that the door was still closed and solid behind him.

His brain went blank as he searched for some kind of logical answer as to what had just happened, but there didn’t seem to be one. Lee just tried to shake the thought out of his head and continue on with his day.


Lee wasn’t really sure why he was surprised that he was the first one to arrive at the community center. The others in his group didn’t exactly seem like the most punctual of reprobates. The center itself was all but deserted at the early hour, so Lee jumped a good ten feet when he heard a voice call out to him and echo off the walls.

“Weird kid! How did I know you were going to be the first one here?”

He spun to see Kara staring down at him from the balcony on the second floor, leaning on the railing, a sarcastic smile on her face.

“What? Got nothing better to do than serve your community?” she said, voice dripping with condescension. “Bet you lay in bed at night jacking off to the idea.”

“I have a name, you know,” he called up to her, but the protest was met by nothing other than obscene moaning noises. Lords, she was the kind of person who actually belonged here, he thought, or someplace worse. He turned and shook his head as he headed for the locker room.

“By the way,” he shouted over his shoulder, “I wasn’t the first one here. You are.”

Silence fell as he left the foyer. A grin crept onto his face as he pushed open the locker room door.


In his life, Lee had heard more war stories than he could bear. On the rare occasions that he did see his father, that seemed to be all he wanted to talk about. So, listening to war stories wasn’t exactly the way Lee wanted to spend his afternoon, but this was community service. So, Lee plastered an understanding look on his face and nodded along as the vet from the Cylon War went on and on about life in the engine room of a Battlestar. Eventually, the man fell asleep mid-sentence, with a small thread of drool hanging from his lip. Lee smiled sadly, thankful that Grandpa Joe had never ended up in a home like this one.

Lee cast a look around the recreation room of the senior center. He was eternally grateful that Ms. Roslin had declared it a no-jumpsuit day before dropping them off here in the morning. Off in one corner of the room, an old music player was spilling out oldies and a line of older men and women were practically lined up to dance with Kat, who seemed to be at least amused by the situation. Karl and Sharon were sitting at a table with an older couple. Lee couldn’t hear the conversation but judging by the blushes and nervous looks and vigorous headshaking, the elderly folks were doing that ‘you-two-would-make-an-adorable-couple’ thing that they did every so often.

And then there was Kara. Sitting on a couch. Playing Canceron Checkers with herself. Scowling off anyone who dared to approach her.

“You know,” Lee said, as he approached. “Problem with playing against yourself… no matter who wins, you’re still gonna lose.”

Kara cocked an eyebrow at him. “Thank you, oh wise one. Next time, I don’t want your opinion.” She picked up a blue marble and skipped it over several places in a totally illegal move.

“You can’t do that.”

“I just did.”

“Are you afraid one of the old folks is going to beat you?”

“As if.”

“You should be a little nicer to them. One day, that’s going to be you.”

Kara scoffed. “Yeah. Right.”

Lee didn’t push the conversation any further. He could see the war vet starting to wake up, and quickly took back his old seat. The man continued with his engine room story as though nothing had even happened.


Lee found himself loitering in the locker room longer than usual. At the end of the day, he was supposed to check in with Ms. Roslin. When he’d gone to drop by her office, she’d gruffly shooed him out and walked out of the building, muttering angrily. He was taken back by her response, to say the least, but hung around in the locker room, at least for a little while.

Lee dug a book out of his backpack and sat on a bench, rereading the last chapter as he listened to the din: Karl and Sharon talking, Kat singing along to her music player, the rush of water as Kara showered.

Half an hour after waiting, Lee decided he was just going to go home. He slid his book back into his bag, but just as he was about to go he heard Kat yelling.

“You wanna say that to my face?!”

He turned to see Kat stalking towards Kara, who was still dripping wet and wrapped up in her towel.

“What the frak is your problem?” Kara balked.

“You know, I’m sick and tired of your frakking bullshit. You’re not frakking better than the rest of us.”

“I don’t know what brand of crazy is going on in your head right now but if you—”

Kara never got to finish her threat. Kat’s fist connected solidly with Kara’s face, sending her stumbling back against the lockers and sinking to the floor. Kat was out the door less than a second later. Sharon and Karl exchanged bewildered looks and Sharon raced out the door.

“Son of a bitch!” Kara hissed, stumbling to her feet. “I’m gonna kill that frakking—”

As Kara started for the door, Karl moved to block her. “Shh. Hey. Calm down, beating her face in isn’t going to make yours feel any better.” She tussled with him for a moment, but finally gave up when he pushed her down to sit on the bench.

“Let me take a look,” Lee said, bending down.

Kara brushed him off. “It’s fine. Leave it.” She wasn’t fronting, Lee noticed, she was fine—no redness or bruising or blood. Either Kat had a weak fist, or Kara had seriously overreacted.

“What the hell just happened?” Karl asked. “What did you say to her?”

“I didn’t frakking say anything!” Kara shouted. “She just hauled off and hit me out of the blue. Frakking psychopath. Told you she deserved to be here.”

Lee huffed out a long sigh. Something about this didn’t add up at all.


“ …‘a frakked up stim junkie, who couldn’t get laid by a toaster even if she tried.’”

“Not a chance. I was sitting right there, and I didn’t hear Kara say any of that.”

Sharon kicked a soda can a few feet ahead of them. It landed in a pool of streetlight. “That’s what Kat said. I don’t know. Maybe Kara said it under her breath?”

Lee shrugged. “I don’t know… something still seems wrong. I mean, I know Kara can be… a pain, but…”

“You’re one of those violence doesn’t solve anything types, aren’t you?” Sharon smirked, picking up her pace a bit to reach the soda can.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”

“So what? Are you in for drugs or something?”

Lee shook his head. “No. Violence. Sort of, kind of.”

Sharon kicked the can again and this time Lee noticed something out of sorts. A small red light was blinking near her shoe. Sharon was wearing a tracking anklet. Lee looked up quickly, but not before she had a chance to notice he was staring. “Violence,” she said, shaking out her leg. “I got into one too many fights. I uh… blacked out through most of them, don’t remember a thing. But apparently I’m a ‘threat to society’… so they want to keep an eye on me.”

“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing Lee could think to say.

Sharon shrugged. “Yeah, whatever. That’s what happens when you’re stupid enough to get involved in a gang.” As they approached an intersection, Sharon paused. “Well, I’m going this way. Don’t wanna give the cops anything they can hold over me.”

“Right,” Lee said. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Later,” she called over her shoulder and crossed the street. Definitely towards the bad part of town, Lee thought as he headed home. He pushed his hands deep into his pockets and kept on towards his own house.

The streets in his neighborhood stood quiet and empty as he followed the bends and turns of the sidewalk until he reached his front door. It remained as solid and sturdy as it had this morning. Lee pulled his hand from his jacket and pressed it against the cracking paint. He could touch the door—feel the heavy wood beneath his fingers. Taking a deep breath, Lee curled his hand into a fist and pressed his knuckles against it with a little more force, but the door did not budge beneath his touch.

He pulled his hand back to examine his wrists, still raw and scratched from the pavement. His spill this morning still made absolutely no sense.

Lee shook his head and pushed the door open, locking it behind him. From the other room, he could hear the low hum of the television. He peered into the living room to see his mother asleep on the couch, an empty bottle of wine on the coffee table. Slipping off his sneakers, Lee slipped up the stairs and into his room.

He lay down in his bed and tried to sleep.

--To Be Continued--
Tags: !story: asbo caprica, #bsg: boomer, #bsg: helo, #bsg: kara, #bsg: lee, #bsg: roslin, #bsg: zak, gift fic, length: chapter story, rating: pg-13
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