"The Promises That We Make, The Vows That We Break" - Adama/Roslin Fic
Title: The Promises That We Make, The Vows That We Break
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: T
Word Count: 943 words
Disclaimer: Not my characters or television show.
A/N: Written for the battleship challenge at about_time for Team Laura. Covers the "a battle ensues" prompt.
“I want to go with you,” he blurted out, cursing mentally as soon as the words escaped his mouth. He had meant to bring this up in a more delicate manner, but the tactician in him seemed to take flight whenever he was around her, making room for the clumsy, love-struck fool that ruled his heart, that governed his actions and words.
Carefully and precisely, Laura lowered her last report of the evening and considered him over the top of her glasses. She said nothing at first, and the scant moments of silence stretched out to an unbearable eternity between them. Bill braced himself.
“Bill,” she said softly, in that tone that was half reproachful, half appreciative.
“I know what you’re going to say,” he huffed defensively. “But I’m not asking your permission,” he said boldly. He squared his shoulders and she arched her brow at his determination.
He met her steely gaze with one of his own. The tension between them crackled dangerously; the air was ripe with the smell of smoke, the kind that signaled the start of a catastrophic fire. If he wasn’t careful, he would ignite that fire and bring upon him a battle of their iron wills, one that would not end in victory for either of them.
“No,” she said firmly. “And as much as you and Cottle like to think that you’re my superiors, may I remind you that you both serve under me in this political structure.”
“I’m coming with you,” he said resolutely. “I don’t care if you won’t let me actually sit with you during the treatment. But I will escort you to and from my lifestation, to ensure that you are safe and looked after. I’ll stand behind a drawn curtain if I have to Laura, the bottom line is that you are not doing this on your own.”
His voice held all of the authority that she had come to respect and admire in him, but his eyes betrayed his true fears. She saw his love for her, his fear of the invisible enemy that had declared war on her body once again, and she felt the outer shell of her armor give way a bit.
Sighing, she removed her glasses, and rubbed the sides of her head.
“I know that you mean well, but this is something that I need to do on my own. I know what’s coming, I know what my body is going to go through, I need to accept those changes, to face them down and conquer them on my own,” she explained softly.
“I love you,” he said pleadingly, as though his love for her could melt the walls surrounding her heart, as if they could draw her cancer out of her like poison from a wound.
“I know, and that’s why I have to do this alone.” She reached across the desk to caress his hand. “I can’t have a worried lover by my bed night and day, I need for you to lead the Fleet when I no longer can. You are the only person that I can trust to do this.”
He drew her hand to his and kissed each knuckle softly.
“You don’t always have to be so strong,” he said. “You can drop off your load at the hatch,” he nodded to the doorway of his quarters, “let this be your sanctuary.” Let me be the one who loves and cares for you, he silently begged.
“Yes,” she said, her voice hitched as tears welled in her eyes, “I do need to be strong, Bill. For the fight ahead, for the people of this Fleet, for you and I to be able to preserver long enough to settle down and retire together,” she responded, an errant tear slipped down her elegant cheek
She squeezed his hand before hastily wiping her tears away. Replacing her glasses once again, she gathered her bag and made to stand. He recognized this tactic of hers; when confronted with emotional intimacy, Laura Roslin ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction. Bill stood and rummaged through the pile of books on his desk; finding what he was looking for, he handed a worn copy of Love and Bullets to her.
“For your treatment,” he said grimly. “If you won’t let me come in person…” let me come with you in spirit. Don’t shut me out completely Laura. He let his sentence trail off purposely.
Smiling, she caressed the side of his face lightly before leaning forward to kiss his craggy cheek.
“I don’t need a book to be reminded of your love Bill,” she admonished him lightly. His answering grin was so bright and full of love that it prompted a grin of her own.
“You once told me never to give up,” he said. “I’m reminding you of that, and of the extraordinary circumstances that followed that conversation that ended up proving me right.”
“Yes Sir,” she smiled.
“I’m serious Roslin, I want you to redirect that tough as nails attitude towards the fight ahead, and to accept that I am your ally in this war,” he said.
“My loyal soldier,” she mused. “Always ready to defend me in any battle.” She caressed the side of his face once again. “I wish that I had your unwavering faith Bill,” she hummed sadly. With a nod of her head, she departed for her shuttle back to Colonial One.
It wasn’t until after she had left, and only her sweet smell still lingered in his quarters, that Bill realized his hands were empty; she had taken his book with her.
There was still hope.
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: T
Word Count: 943 words
Disclaimer: Not my characters or television show.
A/N: Written for the battleship challenge at about_time for Team Laura. Covers the "a battle ensues" prompt.
“I want to go with you,” he blurted out, cursing mentally as soon as the words escaped his mouth. He had meant to bring this up in a more delicate manner, but the tactician in him seemed to take flight whenever he was around her, making room for the clumsy, love-struck fool that ruled his heart, that governed his actions and words.
Carefully and precisely, Laura lowered her last report of the evening and considered him over the top of her glasses. She said nothing at first, and the scant moments of silence stretched out to an unbearable eternity between them. Bill braced himself.
“Bill,” she said softly, in that tone that was half reproachful, half appreciative.
“I know what you’re going to say,” he huffed defensively. “But I’m not asking your permission,” he said boldly. He squared his shoulders and she arched her brow at his determination.
He met her steely gaze with one of his own. The tension between them crackled dangerously; the air was ripe with the smell of smoke, the kind that signaled the start of a catastrophic fire. If he wasn’t careful, he would ignite that fire and bring upon him a battle of their iron wills, one that would not end in victory for either of them.
“No,” she said firmly. “And as much as you and Cottle like to think that you’re my superiors, may I remind you that you both serve under me in this political structure.”
“I’m coming with you,” he said resolutely. “I don’t care if you won’t let me actually sit with you during the treatment. But I will escort you to and from my lifestation, to ensure that you are safe and looked after. I’ll stand behind a drawn curtain if I have to Laura, the bottom line is that you are not doing this on your own.”
His voice held all of the authority that she had come to respect and admire in him, but his eyes betrayed his true fears. She saw his love for her, his fear of the invisible enemy that had declared war on her body once again, and she felt the outer shell of her armor give way a bit.
Sighing, she removed her glasses, and rubbed the sides of her head.
“I know that you mean well, but this is something that I need to do on my own. I know what’s coming, I know what my body is going to go through, I need to accept those changes, to face them down and conquer them on my own,” she explained softly.
“I love you,” he said pleadingly, as though his love for her could melt the walls surrounding her heart, as if they could draw her cancer out of her like poison from a wound.
“I know, and that’s why I have to do this alone.” She reached across the desk to caress his hand. “I can’t have a worried lover by my bed night and day, I need for you to lead the Fleet when I no longer can. You are the only person that I can trust to do this.”
He drew her hand to his and kissed each knuckle softly.
“You don’t always have to be so strong,” he said. “You can drop off your load at the hatch,” he nodded to the doorway of his quarters, “let this be your sanctuary.” Let me be the one who loves and cares for you, he silently begged.
“Yes,” she said, her voice hitched as tears welled in her eyes, “I do need to be strong, Bill. For the fight ahead, for the people of this Fleet, for you and I to be able to preserver long enough to settle down and retire together,” she responded, an errant tear slipped down her elegant cheek
She squeezed his hand before hastily wiping her tears away. Replacing her glasses once again, she gathered her bag and made to stand. He recognized this tactic of hers; when confronted with emotional intimacy, Laura Roslin ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction. Bill stood and rummaged through the pile of books on his desk; finding what he was looking for, he handed a worn copy of Love and Bullets to her.
“For your treatment,” he said grimly. “If you won’t let me come in person…” let me come with you in spirit. Don’t shut me out completely Laura. He let his sentence trail off purposely.
Smiling, she caressed the side of his face lightly before leaning forward to kiss his craggy cheek.
“I don’t need a book to be reminded of your love Bill,” she admonished him lightly. His answering grin was so bright and full of love that it prompted a grin of her own.
“You once told me never to give up,” he said. “I’m reminding you of that, and of the extraordinary circumstances that followed that conversation that ended up proving me right.”
“Yes Sir,” she smiled.
“I’m serious Roslin, I want you to redirect that tough as nails attitude towards the fight ahead, and to accept that I am your ally in this war,” he said.
“My loyal soldier,” she mused. “Always ready to defend me in any battle.” She caressed the side of his face once again. “I wish that I had your unwavering faith Bill,” she hummed sadly. With a nod of her head, she departed for her shuttle back to Colonial One.
It wasn’t until after she had left, and only her sweet smell still lingered in his quarters, that Bill realized his hands were empty; she had taken his book with her.
There was still hope.