Word Count: 1,877
Date: 2004
Series: One
Rating: M
Category: Relationships
Pairing/Focus: William, Laura
Warnings:
Summary: Sometimes the ties that bind are the noose with which we hang
ourselves.
Spoilers/Disclaimers: “Bastille Day.” This is for Dee, who’s shared (and survived) many a long, drawn out
chat/rant. It’s not exactly as I’d intended, but I had to go where the
muses demanded.
Roslin rolled her eyes for perhaps the hundredth time since her meeting with Adama began. She was tired, he was tired, and she still didn’t understand why he insisted on this meeting, they would never see eye to eye on the matter of turning over one of their few remaining and very precious nuclear weapons to a wingnut like Baltar.
Adama was passionately devoted to his own side, deeming it necessary for the good of the fleet to know if there were Cylons in their midst, ultimately herding them to the final annihilation of mankind. He did agree with her that Baltar was a strange ranger, but he was the smartest human being left and it was in their interests to bow to his authority.
“Oh that’s perfect, Commander. The man is slipping further into madness with each passing day! He talks out loud, whether to himself or someone only he can see, no one knows for sure. He completely lost his religion when the Olympic Carrier caught up with us and Dr. Amorak requested to meet with me. He was crazed! And now you want to give him a nuclear weapon?”
“We haven’t seen a Cylon vessel for weeks. There is no indication that they know where we are!”
“They’re certainly not going to announce their presence, are they! They will stay out of our tracking range and stalk us wherever we go! We need that weapon to defend our people!”
“And if Baltar’s right? What good are we doing by not giving ourselves every opportunity to try and find out what they’re up to?”
“Who cares what they’re up to! We have to hide from them, we have to find a new planet to call home.”
“You think I don’t already know this? Do you think I don’t agonize over this every day? We’re running out of water, we’re running out of food, we have no idea what the enemy is truly after or if they’re hiding amongst us! If you have any bright ideas, I suggest you start talking!”
“Well I don’t, Commander! I don’t know what we should do or where we should go! I’m just a schoolteacher, remember?” she shouted angrily, standing toe to toe with him.
They stared angrily at each other, neither willing to back down. It was then that Adama realized that he and Roslin really weren’t all that different they just took a different route to get to the same goal. It was then he knew that he loved her and that was why she got under his skin.
He kissed her with a gentleness she didn’t realize he possessed, and she found herself responding. It was nice to feel wanted again; it had been so long. She ignored her rational brain, a voice shrilly advising just how bad an idea this was, one she would surely regret in the morning.
She didn’t care; she needed to feel his lips brushing against hers, his arms holding her tightly against him, a feeling of wholeness that had been missing for so long. For a moment, she could pretend that her feelings for Adama were returned and pray that it would get her through the rest of her days, numbered though they were.
Adama knew they were making a mistake, a potentially explosive error in judgment, but he was no longer able to deny the powerful pull he felt toward her. He told himself that once they succumbed to the temptation, the allure would be gone and they could move forward, working together more smoothly. He knew this was a lie, but it was all the justification he needed to proceed with this seduction.
He smiled when he felt her tugging on the jacket of his dress uniform, attempting to remove it. Never breaking their kiss, he helped her remove the offending garment and he sighed when he felt her soft hands on his flesh. He led her slowly to the couch and sat, pulling her astride him. Abstractly, he was surprised by how light she was; she appeared more solid.
“Just answer me one question,” she requested, breathless, tilting her head back as his lips found the hollow of her throat.
“I’ll try.”
“If we do this, will you still respect me in the morning?”
Adama paused, stunned that she was making jokes at a time like this. He lifted his head and their eyes locked, each finally seeing the depth of emotion the other carried, unconsciously forming another treaty of sorts. Slowly, his lips curled into a smile, which she returned.
“Of course I will. I just hope your mom and dad don’t come home and catch us,” he teased, helping her remove her clothing.
* * *
Hours later, freed from the cloudy desires of their bodies, the reality of what they had done set it. There was no going back, they had crossed a line and learned too much about each other. There were no accusations, there was no blame-placing, they simply disentangled their bodies, though reluctantly, and Laura dressed quickly, leaving Adama’s quarters.
They never discussed what had happened between them; if it wasn’t talked about, it didn’t really exist. But when they fought now, the words wounded more deeply, each now aware of the chinks in armor, knowing where to land the blow that could ultimately destroy the other.
The day Laura collapsed in the midst of one of their legendary battles was the first time Adama truly noticed how frail she had become. He had concentrated a lot of time and energy into learning how to look at her without really seeing her. However this time, something was forcing him look at her, and he watched horror-stricken as her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she sank to the floor, her skin pasty white.
He lifted her into his arms, feeling for himself just how slight she had become versus three months ago. In a moment of clarity, he realized she was wasting away; she was ill and had been for some time. He carried her through the maze-like corridors of the Galactica, practically running, yelling at people to clear the passage.
Roslin awoke in sickbay, feeling as if she’d just come off a three-day drunk. She slowly opened her eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to adjust her vision to the dimness that surrounded her. She could make out a shadow by her bed, the person’s head was resting on the mattress beside her, still grasping her hand.
She focused with some difficulty, recognizing his salt and pepper hair. She closed her eyes for a moment, saying a quick prayer of thanks, gently combing her fingers in his hair. Adama jumps and sits upright, relaxing when he sees her pale blue eyes watching him with amusement. Once again he takes her hand, kissing her palm tenderly.
“You gave me quite a scare,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry, guess I skipped…too many meals lately. I really-”
“You can stop with the lies. The doc told me about the cancer. Why didn’t you say anything? You shouldn’t be running the Colonies in this condition, you’re going to wear yourself out.”
“I’m fine, Commander.”
“No go, Laura. It’s time for the lies to end. All of them.”
“Fine, truth: I’m dying of breast cancer. The only thing I have to keep me going is the civilians. I carry on…because they need me… to look out for them.”
“And who looks out for you?”
“That doesn’t matter now,” she replied weakly.
“It matters to me.”
“Please…let me alone, Billy. I don’t have the…strength to battle you any more.”
“I’m not here for that, Laura. That’s not important anymore…”
Suddenly, the truth dawned on her. She wouldn’t be leaving sickbay again, at least not horizontal. A sob escaped her throat and Adama gently pulled her into his arms, cradling her as tenderly as he had once held his infant sons.
“I’m sorry, you’re…not here for… this,” she wept.
“I’m here because I love you, Laura Roslin. I’m here because I refuse to let you die the way you lived.”
“Thank you,” she whispered tiredly, relaxing back into his arms. He held her and talked to her about everything going on within the fleet. She smiled tearfully at the number of births from the previous day, laughed a bit when he told her about one of Starbucks recent escapades. A sharp pain suddenly seized her and she gasped, pressing a hand to her breast.
“Just breathe, Laur, slow and easy, that’s my girl,” he soothed, caressing her palm with his thumb; once upon a time it had driven her wild, now it was merely soothing to her. When the pain subsided, he kissed her temple and asked if she needed anything.
Chuckling, she replied, “A new body’d be nice. Can you… arrange that?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’ve missed this…you,” she murmured. “I know we…crossed a line-but we… didn’t have to put…so much distance between us…did we?”
“I don’t know anymore,” he confessed helplessly, “I thought so, once, but look what it did. You were alone, you were getting sicker and no one dared point it out. I really screwed the pooch this time.”
“I always…knew your heart, Billy, even when…you couldn’t say the words. Just as you…knew mine.” She was gripped by another pain and one hand held Adama’s for dear life, the other gripping the rail of the hospital bed. “Billy?”
“Yeah, Laur?” he asked tearfully, allowing his tears to fall unchecked. “What is it baby?”
“I love you, Billy. Take care of our…‘children,’ make sure they’re…protected and…”
The monitor flatlined.
“No, Laur, please, not like this! I never got to tell you…” he pleaded, stroking her dark hair, once shiny and vibrant, was now dull and washed out.
After several moments, the door opened and a man wearing a lab coat silently entered. There was no rushing around, everyone in sickbay was aware of Roslin and her condition, she was expected to code any day.
“Commander? I’m so sorry, she was a great lady, a wonderful President,” the doctor replied sadly, shutting off the alarm of the heart monitor. “Would you like a moment alone with her?”
“Please,” Adama whispered.
Once the doctor left and closed the door behind him, Adama allowed himself to surrender to his grief. He hugged Roslin’s lifeless body to him, pleading with the Lords to forgive him for the pain he had caused her, to make him suffer daily for never noticing her decline in health, lest he have to face up to what he had done.
Ten minutes later, he dried his eyes and lay her back on the bed, smoothing her hair, tucking the blankets around her because he knew how easily she took a chill. He kissed her forehead one last time and murmured, “Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer…”
The End