"The Bonds of Unconditional Acceptance" - Adama/Roslin Fic
Title: The Bonds of Unconditional Acceptance
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: T
Word Count: 1, 649
Disclaimer: Not my characters or television show.
A/N: Written for aka_plynn for the adama_roslin secret valentine. I am terribly sorry that my gift to you is a few days overdue, please blame my persistent RL. She provided a few prompts and I selected "anything set pre-Pegasus" for this fic. I owe many, many thanks to my champion betas nixmom and redrockcan for all of their help. Also, I owe many thanks tolacklusterficfor her advice when I first sat down to put pen to paper.
The meeting aboard Galactica had been long and tiresome. Laura had been speaking with ships captains regarding fuel allocation and resources; there was becoming a greater need for these resources to be spread throughout the fleet for the benefit of civilian ships.
This meeting had been planned specifically to put an end to the disputes surrounding resource allocation; Laura had hoped that her personal appearance at the gathering would intimidate the few into compliance. The evening’s discussion had been held by Colonel Tigh, who, was not nearly as efficient as his commanding officer, thus it ran the full two hours. Exhausted, Laura had stopped by Bill’s quarters to pay him an impromptu visit, knowing that his shift in the CIC would be ending at around the same time.
Bill had hardly been surprised by her unexpected appearance. Instead, he greeted her with a pleased smile.
“I’m glad that you stopped by,” Bill motioned for her to take a seat on his couch as he opened his hatch fully for her entrance. “I have something for you.” He retrieved a novel off of his bookshelf and sat next to her on the couch.
“I figured that I owe you one, since you returned Dark Day so quickly. This is a collection of short stories by Alice Munro, I figure maybe they’ll be more conducive to your schedule than Prima’s work. He tends to get a bit verbose, I’ll admit.”
He offered her a shy smile and held the book out to her.
“That’s,” Laura paused, “very sweet of you Bill. But I really can’t - “
“I insist.” The determination in his gaze told her that there was no room for argument.
Laura remembered Cottle’s diagnosis earlier on in the day. Weeks. Mere weeks. She caressed the book in her hands, knowing full well that she would never have the time to enjoy it.
“Thank you,” she offered him a genuine smile. “It’s been years since I’ve read her work, I’ll look forward to becoming reacquainted with her characters.”
“You’re welcome, but don’t even think about returning it.” Laura arched her eyebrow at him. “I’m serious Laura, it’s a gift. I want you to have it.”
“You’ve been in the habit of giving me gifts lately,” she said. “The Blackbird?”
“That was a gift from my crew,” Bill insisted. “it was their gesture. And it’s still a military asset,” he grinned.
Laura nodded, too tired to give him a verbal response. Bill noticed her fatigue.
“Can I get you anything? Dinner? Tea?” He’d learned not to ask her how she was feeling. That question usually earned him an annoyed arching of her brow or a cold reproach.
“Some tea would be nice,” she admitted. She did not think that she could stomach a full meal right now, or, at least, what passed for a full meal these days.
“You’re in luck, Jaffee just brought me some moments before you got here.” He went to retrieve the piping hot liquid and mug for Laura.
“Oh Bill, he only brought you one mug,” she looked mournfully at it.
“Yeah, he didn’t think I’d be having company. Neither did I for that matter,” he chuckled, “but you’re always welcome here, what’s mine is yours Laura, you know that.”
She took a tentative sip and hummed gratefully.
“This is so much better than the tea we’ve been drinking on Colonial One,” she said. “I swear, some mornings I feel like they just dipped dirty socks into lukewarm water.” She grimaced at the memory of her morning tea as she placed the steaming mug on his coffee table.
“I’ll have some of this sent over to you, we found a few dozen crates of tea aboard, in one of the supply cellars, a couple days ago,” he said. “We’ll have them distributed among the civilian ships as soon as we can. Cottle’s only just finished assessing it today and declared it safe to consume.”
“I don’t know if I’ve ever truly made it clear how much I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” she said quietly, “but I want you to know that you have my sincere gratitude.”
“I serve at the pleasure of the President.” Bill inclined his head.
“Hmm. Not always,” she smiled impishly at him. “I seem to recall you being quite content to being a pain in my ass.”
“Likewise,” he countered with a grin of his own.
“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” she asked him.
“I’d like to think so, yes,” he replied.
Laura nodded her agreement. Still, there was something that bothered her. Bill was so incredibly selfless, as both a commander and as a friend. She had seen him go to incredible lengths to protect his crew and his loved one. Yet, she had seldom seen others return the favor.
“You took a risk trusting me again, offering me your forgiveness,” she noted.
“I thought that you didn’t need my forgiveness?” he countered cheekily.
“I don’t,” she replied easily, “but is it welcome,” she admitted. “Especially since I completely broke my promise to you.”
“Like I said, I forgive you. I understand why you felt that you needed to do that,” he said gruffly. He did not want to revisit the hurt and betrayal that was still cooling in his heart after her actions.
“You’re always taking care of those around you Bill, who takes care of you?”
He offered her a tense smile. Laura noted the sadness that permeated his craggy features.
“I knew the kind of responsibility I would be taking on when I was given command of Galactica,” he said. “The well being of this fleet is my burden,” he corrected himself: “Our burden.”
“Still, you’ve had to make some very ugly decisions, we both have. At the end of the day, where do you lay down those burdens?” she wondered.
“We don’t have that option,” he said simply. “That’s the price of leadership. No forgiveness, no time to rest; that’s war. Each time one of your crew dies, you feel it,” he balled his hands into fists, “I feel it. Each time one of those kids dies, I feel it.”
“You wear your heart on your sleeve,” she acknowledged. “You adopt everyone around you as family.”
Carolanne used to say that about him. Though her words were always laced with contempt for the intensity of his feelings. She saw him as weak, emotional, uncontrollable. There was no judgment in Laura’s voice, only soft curiosity.
“Your family is your own to make, it isn’t constricted by the bonds of blood,” he explained. “When you work together, you bleed together, things like biological relations becomes such an abstract concept. The bond that you share with your fellow soldiers is often stronger than the bond that you share with your own blood.”
He took an even, measured breath.
“There are some things that you share with another human being that changes you irrevocably. War, genocide, building a civilization out of a band of shell-shocked survivors; these things change you.”
Laura nodded her understanding; they had both changed since the attacks, morphed into the man and woman that they were now, shaped by their dire situations, their fears, their duties, their sense of morality.
He was starring into her eyes with unnerving intensity. She could smell a faint hint of soap and aftershave on him, and suddenly her fingertips were itching to trace the worn terrain of his face. His proximity to her caused a lush warmth to wash over her limbs.
His hand gently cupped her face. The tips of his fingers were strong, yet soft as they traced the pale skin of her jaw.
“You always put others before yourself as well, I’ve noticed. You never consider your own personal gain in any given situation.” Laura shivered. “But you’re tough as nails. You think that your heart is so safe behind your iron walls.”
Bill leaned forward and placed a reverent kiss at the corner of her mouth. She felt the scratch of his long lashes against her skin, felt the gentle caress of his soft lips against her flesh. Her entire body tingled delightfully, and a soft sigh escaped from her slightly parted lips. He lingered only for a moment before slowly drawing back.
“You’re a part of my family too,” he admitted softly. “You’ve changed me. Before you, I never apologized to anyone, I never forgave acts of insubordination.”
Laura released a shaky breath.
“We’re different people now,” she admitted.
“I want you to know, that if things were different, if -”
“If we weren’t on the run for our lives, and if I weren’t dying?” she finished for him. He winced at her bluntness.
“I would have loved to get to know you Laura Roslin,” he said.
She opened and closed her mouth, unsure of how to answer him. He sensed her discomfort.
“But you probably would never let me. Tough as nails,” he noted. “I wear my heart on my sleeve, and you keep yours neatly tucked inside of you.”
“I can’t afford to see everyone as family Bill. Not when I am the one ordering your son to blow up an entire ship full of civilians. I can’t think about them as my children or siblings, only as a possible threat to the human race. It’s fine, I don’t need to make them my family. I’ll balance you out by being tough as nails. Let the public think that I am the one without a heart.”
“You are family Laura. Whether you want it, or think you need it, or not,” he insisted. “ It’s unconditional.”
“I honestly can’t imagine trying to lead this fleet without you. Your support, your friendship, it means a great deal to me Bill,” she said gratefully.
She held his steady gaze.
“And I would have liked to have been able to know you too,” she admitted softly.
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: T
Word Count: 1, 649
Disclaimer: Not my characters or television show.
A/N: Written for aka_plynn for the adama_roslin secret valentine. I am terribly sorry that my gift to you is a few days overdue, please blame my persistent RL. She provided a few prompts and I selected "anything set pre-Pegasus" for this fic. I owe many, many thanks to my champion betas nixmom and redrockcan for all of their help. Also, I owe many thanks tolacklusterficfor her advice when I first sat down to put pen to paper.
The meeting aboard Galactica had been long and tiresome. Laura had been speaking with ships captains regarding fuel allocation and resources; there was becoming a greater need for these resources to be spread throughout the fleet for the benefit of civilian ships.
This meeting had been planned specifically to put an end to the disputes surrounding resource allocation; Laura had hoped that her personal appearance at the gathering would intimidate the few into compliance. The evening’s discussion had been held by Colonel Tigh, who, was not nearly as efficient as his commanding officer, thus it ran the full two hours. Exhausted, Laura had stopped by Bill’s quarters to pay him an impromptu visit, knowing that his shift in the CIC would be ending at around the same time.
Bill had hardly been surprised by her unexpected appearance. Instead, he greeted her with a pleased smile.
“I’m glad that you stopped by,” Bill motioned for her to take a seat on his couch as he opened his hatch fully for her entrance. “I have something for you.” He retrieved a novel off of his bookshelf and sat next to her on the couch.
“I figured that I owe you one, since you returned Dark Day so quickly. This is a collection of short stories by Alice Munro, I figure maybe they’ll be more conducive to your schedule than Prima’s work. He tends to get a bit verbose, I’ll admit.”
He offered her a shy smile and held the book out to her.
“That’s,” Laura paused, “very sweet of you Bill. But I really can’t - “
“I insist.” The determination in his gaze told her that there was no room for argument.
Laura remembered Cottle’s diagnosis earlier on in the day. Weeks. Mere weeks. She caressed the book in her hands, knowing full well that she would never have the time to enjoy it.
“Thank you,” she offered him a genuine smile. “It’s been years since I’ve read her work, I’ll look forward to becoming reacquainted with her characters.”
“You’re welcome, but don’t even think about returning it.” Laura arched her eyebrow at him. “I’m serious Laura, it’s a gift. I want you to have it.”
“You’ve been in the habit of giving me gifts lately,” she said. “The Blackbird?”
“That was a gift from my crew,” Bill insisted. “it was their gesture. And it’s still a military asset,” he grinned.
Laura nodded, too tired to give him a verbal response. Bill noticed her fatigue.
“Can I get you anything? Dinner? Tea?” He’d learned not to ask her how she was feeling. That question usually earned him an annoyed arching of her brow or a cold reproach.
“Some tea would be nice,” she admitted. She did not think that she could stomach a full meal right now, or, at least, what passed for a full meal these days.
“You’re in luck, Jaffee just brought me some moments before you got here.” He went to retrieve the piping hot liquid and mug for Laura.
“Oh Bill, he only brought you one mug,” she looked mournfully at it.
“Yeah, he didn’t think I’d be having company. Neither did I for that matter,” he chuckled, “but you’re always welcome here, what’s mine is yours Laura, you know that.”
She took a tentative sip and hummed gratefully.
“This is so much better than the tea we’ve been drinking on Colonial One,” she said. “I swear, some mornings I feel like they just dipped dirty socks into lukewarm water.” She grimaced at the memory of her morning tea as she placed the steaming mug on his coffee table.
“I’ll have some of this sent over to you, we found a few dozen crates of tea aboard, in one of the supply cellars, a couple days ago,” he said. “We’ll have them distributed among the civilian ships as soon as we can. Cottle’s only just finished assessing it today and declared it safe to consume.”
“I don’t know if I’ve ever truly made it clear how much I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” she said quietly, “but I want you to know that you have my sincere gratitude.”
“I serve at the pleasure of the President.” Bill inclined his head.
“Hmm. Not always,” she smiled impishly at him. “I seem to recall you being quite content to being a pain in my ass.”
“Likewise,” he countered with a grin of his own.
“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” she asked him.
“I’d like to think so, yes,” he replied.
Laura nodded her agreement. Still, there was something that bothered her. Bill was so incredibly selfless, as both a commander and as a friend. She had seen him go to incredible lengths to protect his crew and his loved one. Yet, she had seldom seen others return the favor.
“You took a risk trusting me again, offering me your forgiveness,” she noted.
“I thought that you didn’t need my forgiveness?” he countered cheekily.
“I don’t,” she replied easily, “but is it welcome,” she admitted. “Especially since I completely broke my promise to you.”
“Like I said, I forgive you. I understand why you felt that you needed to do that,” he said gruffly. He did not want to revisit the hurt and betrayal that was still cooling in his heart after her actions.
“You’re always taking care of those around you Bill, who takes care of you?”
He offered her a tense smile. Laura noted the sadness that permeated his craggy features.
“I knew the kind of responsibility I would be taking on when I was given command of Galactica,” he said. “The well being of this fleet is my burden,” he corrected himself: “Our burden.”
“Still, you’ve had to make some very ugly decisions, we both have. At the end of the day, where do you lay down those burdens?” she wondered.
“We don’t have that option,” he said simply. “That’s the price of leadership. No forgiveness, no time to rest; that’s war. Each time one of your crew dies, you feel it,” he balled his hands into fists, “I feel it. Each time one of those kids dies, I feel it.”
“You wear your heart on your sleeve,” she acknowledged. “You adopt everyone around you as family.”
Carolanne used to say that about him. Though her words were always laced with contempt for the intensity of his feelings. She saw him as weak, emotional, uncontrollable. There was no judgment in Laura’s voice, only soft curiosity.
“Your family is your own to make, it isn’t constricted by the bonds of blood,” he explained. “When you work together, you bleed together, things like biological relations becomes such an abstract concept. The bond that you share with your fellow soldiers is often stronger than the bond that you share with your own blood.”
He took an even, measured breath.
“There are some things that you share with another human being that changes you irrevocably. War, genocide, building a civilization out of a band of shell-shocked survivors; these things change you.”
Laura nodded her understanding; they had both changed since the attacks, morphed into the man and woman that they were now, shaped by their dire situations, their fears, their duties, their sense of morality.
He was starring into her eyes with unnerving intensity. She could smell a faint hint of soap and aftershave on him, and suddenly her fingertips were itching to trace the worn terrain of his face. His proximity to her caused a lush warmth to wash over her limbs.
His hand gently cupped her face. The tips of his fingers were strong, yet soft as they traced the pale skin of her jaw.
“You always put others before yourself as well, I’ve noticed. You never consider your own personal gain in any given situation.” Laura shivered. “But you’re tough as nails. You think that your heart is so safe behind your iron walls.”
Bill leaned forward and placed a reverent kiss at the corner of her mouth. She felt the scratch of his long lashes against her skin, felt the gentle caress of his soft lips against her flesh. Her entire body tingled delightfully, and a soft sigh escaped from her slightly parted lips. He lingered only for a moment before slowly drawing back.
“You’re a part of my family too,” he admitted softly. “You’ve changed me. Before you, I never apologized to anyone, I never forgave acts of insubordination.”
Laura released a shaky breath.
“We’re different people now,” she admitted.
“I want you to know, that if things were different, if -”
“If we weren’t on the run for our lives, and if I weren’t dying?” she finished for him. He winced at her bluntness.
“I would have loved to get to know you Laura Roslin,” he said.
She opened and closed her mouth, unsure of how to answer him. He sensed her discomfort.
“But you probably would never let me. Tough as nails,” he noted. “I wear my heart on my sleeve, and you keep yours neatly tucked inside of you.”
“I can’t afford to see everyone as family Bill. Not when I am the one ordering your son to blow up an entire ship full of civilians. I can’t think about them as my children or siblings, only as a possible threat to the human race. It’s fine, I don’t need to make them my family. I’ll balance you out by being tough as nails. Let the public think that I am the one without a heart.”
“You are family Laura. Whether you want it, or think you need it, or not,” he insisted. “ It’s unconditional.”
“I honestly can’t imagine trying to lead this fleet without you. Your support, your friendship, it means a great deal to me Bill,” she said gratefully.
She held his steady gaze.
“And I would have liked to have been able to know you too,” she admitted softly.