Unexpected Friends
Title: Unexpected Friends
Rating: T
Word Count: ~1100
Disclaimer: don't own them.
Pairing(s): Laura/Lee, Bill/Saul; however the focus is on Bill, Laura and Saul, Laura
A/N: Part of the "unexpected" series, which begins (for now) with this ficlet.
A/N2: for plaid_slytherin just because.
Laura lay back against the pillow. The doloxan dripped, filling her with its toxins. She’d tried to read her book, but her eyes were just too tired and her hands too weak to hold it. Gods, she’d vowed to never become this weak, and look at her. Ugh. And Lee. Sweet and caring Lee, for all his love and commitment, his only reward would be a dried up husk or a corpse. She was glad he was on the Atlantia and not with her. At least, he wouldn’t see her like this.
She closed her eyes, trying to will the negative thoughts away. Her mother always told her negative thoughts were more toxic than the doloxan could ever be, and she believed it now. Feeling her body spike as her thoughts became angrier. Deep breaths. Pleasant thoughts would be good. Maybe of Lee. He’d taken her on a picnic the day before he shipped off.
It was a good day. Of course, he insisted she wear a giant hat and lots of sunscreen, but the feel of the sun against her skin was worth it. As was the sound of the birds and the sight of the flowers just starting to bloom. She’d been indoors too much of late, and their picnic, as quick as it was, was the perfect cure for her doldrums.
She was calming down. Her monitor registered a slower heart rate. Thank you, Lee. The man had a calming presence even when he was light years away.
She cleared her mind, preparing for sleep, when she heard a voice. One that had become familiar since her visit to the Galactica a month ago.
“It started with a body. She was like the city. She’d been beautiful once but saw life, and it hardened her, eventually killing her.”
She opened her eyes. Bill Adama was in a chair by her bedside, reading one of the “Caprica City Chronicles” books: “The Death of Beauty.” It was her favorite in the series, but he couldn’t possibly know that. Could he?
She hummed. And he looked up from his book at her. “What are you doing here, Bill?”
“Reading.”
She snorted although it hurt. “I never expected you to be a smartass.”
“I’m full of surprises, Laura. I talked to Lee the other day--”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Yeah, you were right--”
“Can I record that?”
He snorted. “Now who’s the smartass?” He smiled, though. “He contacted me. Of course, it wasn’t so much about us as you.” He sighed. “But I’ll take it.”
“What about me?”
“That you needed someone.”
Oh. Lee was a little too sweet and caring sometimes. “I’m fine, Bill.”
“No, Laura, you’re not.” He pointed to the IV. “That’s not water dripping into your veins. You’re fighting for your life, and my son doesn’t want you to do it alone.”
“Well, what he doesn’t understand, what no one understands is I. Am. Doing. This. Alone.”
He made no reaction. “Saul said you’d probably say that.”
“Your husband is very smart.”
He smiled. “Yes he is.” He sighed. “You may be fighting alone, but now you’re going to have someone on the sidelines. I think I recall you like mysteries.”
She nodded.
“That’s perfect because I love them.”
He opened the book again and picked up from where he left off. She closed her eyes. Maybe she didn’t have to be so alone after all.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
He arrived every day like clockwork. The doctor would check on her, as the nurse secured the IV. The drip would begin, and Bill’s voice would appear.
They spoke sometimes. Little things between chapters. But mostly he read, and she listened.
Today, the voice appeared at its designated time; however, it was decidedly not Bill’s voice. This voice was less husky but still harsh. Hardened from years of drinking and a military lifestyle. And it wasn’t reading. It was arguing with the hospital staff. Saul Tigh? What was he doing there?
She opened her eyes. “Saul?”
He smiled slightly. “Laura.” There’d been no love lost between them despite the fact his husband was practically her best friend at this point. Hades, Bill was her best friend. He’d earned that title through his devotion. In her few encounters with Saul Tigh, though, they regarded each other with minimal respect. They just...weren’t compatible, it seemed. He gestured to the book in his hands. “Bill’s sick--” He put up his hand. “Now don’t worry about The Old Man. He’s fine. Obviously, or I wouldn’t be here.”
No he wouldn’t. Saul Tigh would never be away from his husband if Bill needed him. His level of devotion to Bill was matched only by Bill’s devotion to him.
“He just has a cold, but he didn’t want to make you sick. So he sent me here with this book. I don’t know what it is about you two with these mysteries, but whatever.”
She smiled. “You’re a good husband, Saul.”
“You’re godsdamned right, I am. I’d do anything for the Old Man.”
“I know. He’s very lucky.”
Saul’s eyes softened. “I’m the lucky one.”
They’re both so lucky. To have such a strong bond and love. A partnership. It wasn’t something she ever had. Her parents did. And her longing for the same kind of relationship was such that no one ever measured up, so she stayed alone. Now she was dying. But she had something good with Lee, and her friendship with Bill had become so strong that it aligned her (however temporarily) with Saul. That may not have been the kind of love she thought she wanted, and certainly not what she expected. But it was good and it was real. It was love.
“Maybe I’m the lucky one,” she said.
He snorted. “Lady, if you can say that from where you are, you have more guts than I gave you credit for.”
There was something like admiration in his voice. Not quite affection. But maybe that’ll come later. Or not. “I don’t know about guts. But I’m grateful for what I have.”
“Well, why don’t I read this like the Old Man said.” He opened the book at the bookmarked page and started reading, prefacing it with, “I probably don’t read as good as Bill.” She waved his comment aside, and he read.
He wasn’t like Bill at all, but he was just as good. It was an act of love, and that’s what really mattered.
She lay back against her pillow, closing her eyes, and letting the world created by Prima’s words and Saul’s voice wash over her.
Next
Rating: T
Word Count: ~1100
Disclaimer: don't own them.
Pairing(s): Laura/Lee, Bill/Saul; however the focus is on Bill, Laura and Saul, Laura
A/N: Part of the "unexpected" series, which begins (for now) with this ficlet.
A/N2: for plaid_slytherin just because.
Laura lay back against the pillow. The doloxan dripped, filling her with its toxins. She’d tried to read her book, but her eyes were just too tired and her hands too weak to hold it. Gods, she’d vowed to never become this weak, and look at her. Ugh. And Lee. Sweet and caring Lee, for all his love and commitment, his only reward would be a dried up husk or a corpse. She was glad he was on the Atlantia and not with her. At least, he wouldn’t see her like this.
She closed her eyes, trying to will the negative thoughts away. Her mother always told her negative thoughts were more toxic than the doloxan could ever be, and she believed it now. Feeling her body spike as her thoughts became angrier. Deep breaths. Pleasant thoughts would be good. Maybe of Lee. He’d taken her on a picnic the day before he shipped off.
It was a good day. Of course, he insisted she wear a giant hat and lots of sunscreen, but the feel of the sun against her skin was worth it. As was the sound of the birds and the sight of the flowers just starting to bloom. She’d been indoors too much of late, and their picnic, as quick as it was, was the perfect cure for her doldrums.
She was calming down. Her monitor registered a slower heart rate. Thank you, Lee. The man had a calming presence even when he was light years away.
She cleared her mind, preparing for sleep, when she heard a voice. One that had become familiar since her visit to the Galactica a month ago.
“It started with a body. She was like the city. She’d been beautiful once but saw life, and it hardened her, eventually killing her.”
She opened her eyes. Bill Adama was in a chair by her bedside, reading one of the “Caprica City Chronicles” books: “The Death of Beauty.” It was her favorite in the series, but he couldn’t possibly know that. Could he?
She hummed. And he looked up from his book at her. “What are you doing here, Bill?”
“Reading.”
She snorted although it hurt. “I never expected you to be a smartass.”
“I’m full of surprises, Laura. I talked to Lee the other day--”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Yeah, you were right--”
“Can I record that?”
He snorted. “Now who’s the smartass?” He smiled, though. “He contacted me. Of course, it wasn’t so much about us as you.” He sighed. “But I’ll take it.”
“What about me?”
“That you needed someone.”
Oh. Lee was a little too sweet and caring sometimes. “I’m fine, Bill.”
“No, Laura, you’re not.” He pointed to the IV. “That’s not water dripping into your veins. You’re fighting for your life, and my son doesn’t want you to do it alone.”
“Well, what he doesn’t understand, what no one understands is I. Am. Doing. This. Alone.”
He made no reaction. “Saul said you’d probably say that.”
“Your husband is very smart.”
He smiled. “Yes he is.” He sighed. “You may be fighting alone, but now you’re going to have someone on the sidelines. I think I recall you like mysteries.”
She nodded.
“That’s perfect because I love them.”
He opened the book again and picked up from where he left off. She closed her eyes. Maybe she didn’t have to be so alone after all.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
He arrived every day like clockwork. The doctor would check on her, as the nurse secured the IV. The drip would begin, and Bill’s voice would appear.
They spoke sometimes. Little things between chapters. But mostly he read, and she listened.
Today, the voice appeared at its designated time; however, it was decidedly not Bill’s voice. This voice was less husky but still harsh. Hardened from years of drinking and a military lifestyle. And it wasn’t reading. It was arguing with the hospital staff. Saul Tigh? What was he doing there?
She opened her eyes. “Saul?”
He smiled slightly. “Laura.” There’d been no love lost between them despite the fact his husband was practically her best friend at this point. Hades, Bill was her best friend. He’d earned that title through his devotion. In her few encounters with Saul Tigh, though, they regarded each other with minimal respect. They just...weren’t compatible, it seemed. He gestured to the book in his hands. “Bill’s sick--” He put up his hand. “Now don’t worry about The Old Man. He’s fine. Obviously, or I wouldn’t be here.”
No he wouldn’t. Saul Tigh would never be away from his husband if Bill needed him. His level of devotion to Bill was matched only by Bill’s devotion to him.
“He just has a cold, but he didn’t want to make you sick. So he sent me here with this book. I don’t know what it is about you two with these mysteries, but whatever.”
She smiled. “You’re a good husband, Saul.”
“You’re godsdamned right, I am. I’d do anything for the Old Man.”
“I know. He’s very lucky.”
Saul’s eyes softened. “I’m the lucky one.”
They’re both so lucky. To have such a strong bond and love. A partnership. It wasn’t something she ever had. Her parents did. And her longing for the same kind of relationship was such that no one ever measured up, so she stayed alone. Now she was dying. But she had something good with Lee, and her friendship with Bill had become so strong that it aligned her (however temporarily) with Saul. That may not have been the kind of love she thought she wanted, and certainly not what she expected. But it was good and it was real. It was love.
“Maybe I’m the lucky one,” she said.
He snorted. “Lady, if you can say that from where you are, you have more guts than I gave you credit for.”
There was something like admiration in his voice. Not quite affection. But maybe that’ll come later. Or not. “I don’t know about guts. But I’m grateful for what I have.”
“Well, why don’t I read this like the Old Man said.” He opened the book at the bookmarked page and started reading, prefacing it with, “I probably don’t read as good as Bill.” She waved his comment aside, and he read.
He wasn’t like Bill at all, but he was just as good. It was an act of love, and that’s what really mattered.
She lay back against her pillow, closing her eyes, and letting the world created by Prima’s words and Saul’s voice wash over her.
Next