Drunken and giddy, Kara and Lee rambled away from the Groundbreaking. Kara pointed at a clearing, under the moon, called it "a great place for a house." Lee scoffed at the idea of her settling down, asked if really meant to give up flying. But Kara is a fighter. "Flying's gonna suck now anyway. Lots of training, endless CAPs. The war's over." She looked at him meaningfully: "So's all the good stuff." New Caprica meant laying down burdens. Things that were too hard.
Lee finally starts hitting back. There's no referee and there's no bell.
"Gimme a tour of the future life of Kara Anders," he said, and she cocked her head at him, brave under the moon. "I'm not getting married." He got confused and stopped making sense, asking too many questions without enough words. He forgot where his dogtags were. "Then what's the point, Kara? I mean, you love him, right?" She pulled back like she'd been burned; her fingers ached. "Where are we going with this, Lee?" But Lee was thinking of the grander picture, this place for a house under the moon. This dream vacation. "Now that's the question, isn't it? Where are we going? I mean, what if this is it? The rest of your life, Kara. Is this how you want to spend it? Is this who you want to spend it with?"
They're evenly matched, fighting their worst. Anders enters and asks Dualla, with a hand upon her arm, what they're doing. "What's it look like?" she says, rolling her eyes. "Looks like they're trying to kill each other." He's sweet, and naÃ¯ve. "Kill" isn't the word. Dualla just watches, the rest of her life playing out in front of her yet one more time. "That's one perspective."
Kara and Lee kissed, and made love under New Caprica's moon. She laughed quietly in the hush when they were finished. "Well, that makes things more complicated," she said. Another burden. "What are we gonna do?" Lee was feeling expansive and crazed; everything you want in the worst possible way. "What are we gonna do? We accept it. Tomorrow, I tell Dualla, you tell Sam." Just like that? "Just like that." Kara whispered, in the silence: "I don't know." But Lee was in love with love and his own bravery, and wanted to shout it to the skies. Kara laughed at him, because she hadn't ever met this version of Lee before. He was like a little boy. "Yeah, right." He took it as a dare, and against her giggling protests, stood naked under the moon of a fresh new world, without countries or boundaries or enemies, and howled. "My name is Lee Adama, and I love Kara Thrace!" She begged him to stop, calm down, but he reminded her they were on the frontier; he reminded her that this was only fantasy. They were breaking ground. "Well, it's not like anybody'll hear. We're in your cabin in the forest, right?" She smiled at him, at the sudden youth and strength of him. "I love Kara Thrace! And I don't care who fracking knows!" He was everything you could want him to be. In the worst possible way. She called him crazy and told him to get down, but he stood there naked and grinned at her, and promised her he wouldn't stop until she did it too. But she couldn't. You don't say things like that. Not when the Gods seem hellbent on taking everything away. You don't risk that kind of bravery if it really means something. It's better to be alone. "I can't," she said, but he didn't hear her. "Okay, here we go again. Lee Adama," he started to shout, and she finally gave in. She stood up, shivering, naked under a strange moon. "Okay. Ka --" and her breath caught on the enormity of it. She took it as a dare. "Kara Thrace loves Lee Adama!" She squeaked to herself, impressed and afraid and proud of her bravery. To stand naked before the moon and announce it to the world. They kissed. It was everything he wanted.