Whenever I Fall At Your Feet
Happy birthday sczep84 !!!!!!!
Here's a little something I wrote for you. You are one of the nicest people here on LJ and I hope you have a lovely day. Hope you like it. Part 2 is almost finished and should be ready for next week. (Don't sigh everyone, it will have 2 or 3 parts at the most.)
A/N: This is an A/U using the idea that was joked about at the Spain Con where Mary said that Bill and Laura had nothing in common and wouldn't have got together in another place or time. It was pointed out by some good fangirls that they had the love of books in common. And Mary said something like 'yeah, I guess, if they met in a library and then went out for a drink' (don't quote me here - I'm paraphrasing). Title comes from the Crowded House song. Special thanks to kastari for the beta to sort out my grammar issues.
Title: Whenever I Fall At Your Feet
Rated: T
Not my characters/not making money
A/U
Laura Roslin hated the way libraries insisted on having shelves that only six foot giants could reach. She kicked off her heels, retrieved a step ladder from the end of the aisle and wheeled it back to the ‘T’ section. Disconcertingly, she still had to strain her body on top of the ladder to touch the book she was looking for. She flipped over the cover and started reading the blurb when she heard a thump behind her.
She swung around to find a man in Colonial uniform lying in a heap on the ground beside her.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” his deep voice seemed to almost vibrate across her body sending an involuntary shiver up her spine. “I think I tripped on these,” he said, pulling a pair of high heels out from under him.
“Oh Gods!” she automatically swore and jumped down to retrieve the offending footwear from him. “Sorry,” she added as she once again donned her shoes.
She bent down and grabbed at his arm to assist him with standing. A faint hint of attraction thrummed through her body as she felt the muscles of his biceps through the thick wool of his tunic.
“Hop outta the way before I hurt you,” he said. Something in his tone made her think he was quite used to giving orders and having people follow them. She felt her hackles rise immediately at his tone. She was only endeavouring to help him, after all.
He stood with a grunt and she was perversely happy to note that he wasn’t much taller than she was. Almost exactly the same height, she felt a little dazed when his eyes, the clearest blue she had ever seen, met hers with a stony glare.
“This is a public library, not your living room where you can leave your belongings lying around,” he practically growled.
“Maybe you need to watch where you’re going,” she snapped, refusing to back down from his typical superior soldier’s attitude.
“Like I was expecting there to be a pair of shoes lying on the floor in the aisle of the library?” he bit back.
“I did apologise,” she concentrated on keeping her tone civil but realised that her voice still held a hint of irritation.
“In the future, you should remember you aren’t the only patron here,” he snapped, striding off before she could add any further retort.
*
Bill Adama walked into the East Caprica Public Library and chuckled to himself at the memory of his last visit to the establishment nearly three weeks earlier.
He had made an idiot of himself. He’d fallen flat on his face in front of a beautiful woman.
He wasn’t usually so clumsy. In direct contrast to his stocky appearance, he was, in fact, quite agile. Years of sparring in the boxing ring combined with need to manoeuvre deftly around a battlestar -- climbing up and sliding down ladders between decks -- ensured he was light on his feet.
He smiled again, conceding that he had been temporarily distracted that day. After three months in space, how could any red-blooded man be anything but distracted when presented with legs like that woman possessed and full view to boot as she reached up to a higher shelf. He had also appreciated the way her tight, short skirt stretched across her shapely ass before he’d found himself kissing the carpet at her feet.
Hiding his embarrassment, he had retaliated against her in a way completely opposite of his usual good manners. Her green eyes sparkled with anger and she’d refused to back down when he had turned his infamous glare upon her. It was a look that had withered men twice her size and yet she had merely straightened her back and stood tall.
*
Laura checked out her books and headed for the coffee shop that was located on the second floor of the library. She was looking forward to relaxing with a strong cup of coffee and losing herself in one of the new crime novels she had found.
For once, she turned off her cell phone. She didn’t plan on turning it back on, or returning to the office, for at least another hour. The last time she had indulged in such decadence was over three months ago when she had taken time out to spend a day at her family’s graveside. She had no idea why she felt the need to escape today, but she guessed it might have something to do with Richard’s attitude toward her over the last few weeks since she had finally put an end to their affair.
After ordering, she sat down at a table near the window. About to bury her head in one of her books, a familiar voice caught her attention. That man, she thought. The soldier who had tripped over her shoes and been so oafish about it. She’d recognise that voice anywhere. It was one of the sexiest voices she had ever heard.
Before she could glance back down at her book, he walked past her toward the far end of the cafe. He wasn’t wearing his uniform. Instead, he sported a simple white t-shirt and a pair of dark blue denim jeans. Her eyes involuntarily wandered to his ass. She didn’t usually do that. She liked men’s arms. In her youth, she had gone out with way too many pyramid players for this reason alone. The soldier had a nice ass though, and if she remembered correctly, his arms were fantastic too.
He turned and sat in a chair facing in her direction. She hoped he was far enough away so he couldn’t see her peeping over the top of her glasses to inspect his arms further. They were exposed today, their dark colouring on display, in stark contrast to the white of his t-shirt. She flushed as the notion of his dark skin contrasting with her own pale whiteness as the thought suddenly flared into her mind.
Without seeming to notice or recognise her, he also pulled out a book and donned a pair of round wire-rimmed spectacles. She thought the glasses softened his features which, at first, seemed inelegant and more suited for one of her father’s favourite boxers than a man one would bump into at the library.
She could now see that his t-shirt had the Colonial Fleet insignia with a word printed above it in one corner. Her coffee arrived as she was still pondering what the word might be. The waitress moved to his table and delivered his own mug. She watched as, in the act of politely looking up to acknowledge the girl’s presence, his eyes drifted toward her. She ducked her head back down and studied her book intently, attempting to school her features with a nonchalant look.
Ten minutes later she cursed him under her breath. The words on the page continually floated in front of her eyes and she had to re-read each sentence three times to get the general gist of the plot. That ass, those arms, the voice and those eyes - he was distracting her.
*
Even without being able to see her legs, Bill Adama recognised the woman at the other end of the café immediately. He surreptitiously studied her as she absent-mindedly ran her fingers through her hair, spoiling the carefully controlled style that no doubt took an incredible amount of time to achieve each morning.
Despite the fact that she now had several strands out of place, she was the epitome of class and grace. She was dressed in a power suit like every other Caprican female executive - yet she wasn’t like every other Caprican female executive. She oozed something extra that he couldn’t quite put a finger on.
He wondered what she did for a living - lawyer, business management, marketing, journalism. Whatever it was, he doubted she would be interested in an old soldier on shore leave lounging around in jeans and a t-shirt. A Commander in the Fleet might wow the girls in the typing pool, but he got the feeling this one would need something more to be impressed. An Admiral might spark some interest, but even then he doubted that titles and uniforms would grab her attention for long.
He wondered what she did in her spare time other than read. He guessed she was in her late forties, maybe early fifties, yet her body seemed to be something that girls half her age would envy. He wondered if she joined the hundreds of other women who jogged around the Caprican City Parklands each morning --half intent on toning their bodies, half intent on being seen by the right people -- or if she slaved away on a treadmill in the pristine gymnasium of her high-rise apartment building.
He also couldn’t imagine her sitting in a gutter emptying the contents of her stomach outside a strip club after being so pumped full of booze by your best friend and wife. Other than an obvious love of books, he imagined that he and this woman had nothing in common.
For all appearances, she was Caprican through and through. He was born in Caprica but everything about him screamed out his Tauron roots. Carolanne, blinded by the infamous reputation of his father, had ignored his background until their marriage had started to crack and splinter. That was when his ex-wife used the Tauron gangster and ghetto image while attempting to land cheap shots during their many arguments.
After his divorce he had convinced himself that Carolanne had been out of his league all along. He thought the same about this woman. What chance would he have of catching her eye? He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. Why the hell was he thinking about catching this woman’s eye anyway? Maybe he’d been in space too long. Maybe it was time for him to toss in his dogtags and head to Leonis to live in a shack by the sea and see what solid ground might have to offer him.
Thinking about retirement made him think of Lee and the appointment he had to keep with his son. Lee was discontented with remaining in the Fleet and was striving to disentangle from the four year’s of service that he’d signed up for when going through a rebellious stage. Now it seemed he was expected to sort things out because he was a Commander with the ability to pull strings whenever it suited Lee. He had no intention of letting Lee take the easy way out and use him to gain an escape clause. How he was going to tell his son was making him extremely unenthusiastic about their shore leave’s reunion. Since Zak’s death, theirs was a tenuous relationship at best and this meeting would, without a doubt, drive yet another wedge between them.
He sighed and checked the time and realised he’d have to leave now if he was going to make it across town to the military base where Lee was stationed for the next few weeks. He tried to determine how he should act when passing the redhead’s table as he left. A smile? A nod? Was a polite hello too much? Maybe if he hadn’t spent an inordinate amount of time studying and thinking about her, the question wouldn’t be so difficult.
He finally decided on just a nod. Good manners meant that he could hardly pretend he never recognised her. He dragged his chair back and walked the path between their tables in a most measured way. She glanced up as he neared. Suddenly he found himself lingering near her table. What was he doing? This hadn’t been one of the possibilities that he had debated.
“Hello,” he said before he could stop himself.
“Hello,” she drawled.
He had been right. She was out of his league. In fact, she was so classy she was probably in a complete league of her own.
He needed to keep walking and ignore the current pang of desire that sprang to life when leaning back in her chair to look up at him, the material of her blouse had tightened, accentuating the curves of her breasts. He needed to block out the slight hint of pale cleavage that she was inadvertently exposing to him as she arched one perfectly plucked eyebrow in his direction.
He searched for something articulate to say.
“Good book?” he asked, trying to find some common ground between them.
“I don’t know. I’ve only just started. It should be good. It’s been on the Caprican Higher Education’s required reading list for three years now yet somehow I’ve managed to avoid reading it.”
He glanced at the title. “Marcus Michaelson’s Man for the Hour,” he read. “It’s got good characterisation, but the plot is a bit dodgy in places.”
“You’ve read it?”
“Yeah, about ten years ago, but I think I’ve got the right story. He’s the politician who only wants to get elected to win back his ex-wife.”
“That’s what the blurb says.”
“Yeah. Maybe I just didn’t like the premise. There’s no way I’d go through all the heartache he does to win back my ex-wife.”
“You’re divorced?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said, suddenly wondering how many times he had blurted out ‘yeah’ to her. “Anyway, I think it’s time the Education Department changed their recommendations. I wouldn’t like my 18 year old reading it and thinking that every ambition in life had to be all about winning over a woman.”
She tilted her head back and studied him. “What would you recommend to the Education Department?”
“Sorry?”
“What book? If the Education Department was to remove this one from its required reading list, what would you want to take its place?”
“Mmm, tough question. One springs to mind. Searider Falcon. Magnus Svenson. Know it?”
“I’ve heard of it but I’m afraid I’ve never read it.”
“You should. It’s good,” he said trying not to react to her tiny, crooked smile. He needed to get going before he got any idiotic ideas about asking her out for a drink or something equally ambitious. He made a show of checking his watch. “I apologise - I need to be somewhere. I hope you find it more entertaining than I did.” He gestured to the book and headed for the exit.
As he climbed into the car he’d rented, he found himself thinking about scheduling his plans while on shore leave around visiting the library a bit more frequently.
Link to part 2