"The military hates boobs," grumbled Kara in Galactica's locker room as the ship prepared for another slow mission around Caprica. Her fingers handled the black cotton of her sports bra with disdain. Sharon glanced over as Kara continued. "Women have had their roles for decades, you'd think they'd get a clue."

"Underwires are dangerous," Sharon said, slipping her damp hair out of the way as she slid her own bra on.

Kara snorted. "No, what's dangerous is forcing us to crush our boobs flat against our chests for hours on end. Notice that the pants don't have that problem? Nice and roomy down there."

Sharon glanced down a hers.

"No, our example is supposed to be the Amazons." Kara stretched the bra up and over her head and humphed. "Fat chance. I like these."

"Yeah, they are nice," Sharon said, looking at hers in the mirror. "But I don't mind waiting till after work to give them the special treatment."

Kara paused and looked down at her cleavage. "A point, there."

"And don't let Karl catch you talking about boobs," Sharon added as her tanks went on.

Kara snickered. "You know I know Karl from way back, right? But yeah, he takes boobs too seriously."

"Maybe with Admiral Cain's promotion, the military will clue up." Sharon left the locker with that comment.

"Don't care who or how," Kara muttered with a sigh. She retucked her bra before putting on her tanks. Damn, a little comfort wasn't too much to ask for.