Title: You Again
Rating: M
Disclaimer: don't own them.
Word Count: ~3,500
Summary: written for
kleenexcow's prompt: a vacation cottage on Aerilon. I got a little carried away. Laura returns home after the Decommissioning Ceremony. She keeps running into Bill Adama. It gets progressively less awkward with each meeting.
If she were told 10 years ago she’d be living in a vacation cottage on Aerilon with the man whose retirement she had caused--indirectly, of course--Laura Roslin would have doubled over in laughter. But it was true: The cottage, the colony, the man, all of it.
She looked at Bill’s sleeping form. Laura couldn’t remember a time when they didn’t share a bed. That was strange considering for most of the first forty-nine years of her life, she had slept alone. She always knew she had intimacy issues, but she didn’t know she was just waiting for the right man.
Of course, Commander Bill Adama didn’t seem like the right man when they first met. He was rude, grumpy, and condescending. And would it have been a big deal to network the computers on a ship that was turning into a museum anyway? But he gave a killer speech, and it made her think twice about her life and the choices she had made, particularly the ones following her family’s deaths.
When she returned to Caprica after the Decommissioning Ceremony, she broke up with Richard, even though she had pretty much done that before she left. Then, she started her cancer treatments. She let her assistants and Billy pick up the slack and took the time she needed to recover. Still, she continued working throughout most of her ordeal.
It was during that time that she ran into Bill Adama again. Literally. They bumped into each other on the sidewalk in Caprica City.
“Why don’t you watch where you’re going?!” He said it before he really looked at her.
Laura recognized Commander Adama immediately. “Me? What about you, sir?”
He recognized that tone. Bill looked at her more closely and remembered. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Yeah. And I see you haven’t changed much.”
“You neither.”
Laura’s eyes became wistful. “I wish that were so.”
“Well, it was probably my fault. I’m sorry.” Bill didn’t think it was his fault, but he didn’t know what to do about her sad eyes. He had dueling impulses to comfort her and to run.
They had another encounter a few weeks later in a coffee shop. Laura was sitting at a table, sipping her tea and reading. Bill recognized her. Quickly. He had never really forgotten her, having regretted leaving her on the sidewalk that day. He moved closer and noticed she was reading one of his favorite authors Nick Taylo.
“I didn’t peg you for a mystery fan, Madame Secretary.”
“You never know about us politicians, Commander.”
“Not anymore. I’m just Bill now.”
“Okay, just Bill.”
“Funny.”
“I thought so.”
“Mind if I sit?”
“It’s a free colony.”
“Not if your boss has any say about it.”
Laura flashed him a look.
“Sorry.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“Well, I didn’t vote for him.”
“Oh, no?”
“No.”
“I really don’t want to talk about work, right now, if you don’t mind.”
Laura’s tone left no room for argument. Bill decided to take a different tact, “You like the book?”
“So far, yeah. I’ve been reading more recently.”
“Slacking off at work?”
“Something like that.”
“Your eyes look like they did on the sidewalk that day.”
“When you ran?” There was no reproach in her tone. It was a statement of fact.
“Yeah, when I ran.”
“I would have run too.”
Bill wasn’t sure he believed that. She seemed so persistent. “I doubt that.”
“Don’t. I always run.” Her tone brooked no argument.
Bill ran away a second time. He was almost certain something was wrong, but he wasn’t sure Laura wanted him to know what. He was pretty sure she didn’t want his help, and he didn’t think he had the strength to provide it. He’d never been sure what to do in those situations, and things were so awkward with Laura. So he ran.
The next time they saw each other, Bill was worried he made her sick. Literally. A few weeks later, she was sitting in the same coffee shop, when he walked in. She was sipping tea and reading a Prima mystery. He recognized the title, and it was one he had enjoyed, but it was no Dark Day, which was by far his favorite. Bill sat down and said so. Maybe that wasn’t the best move on his part, but he felt like they had reached that point in whatever it was that was going on between them.
“Do you mind?!”
“Not at all.”
“And you think it’s normal to just sit across from someone and say ‘You should read Dark Day next?’”
“Normal? No. But since when are we normal?”
Laura looked like she was about to laugh. And then her expression changed. She abruptly left the table. Bill was worried she was leaving the cafe entirely until he saw she was heading to the bathroom. He waited the appropriate amount of time, or what he deemed was appropriate. Then, he stood outside the door and knocked, calling her name. He was surprised when she invited him in.
“Laura...” He didn’t need to finish the question as she was clearly not okay.
She left the stall door ajar, and he entered. He started gently rubbing her back. When she finished, he helped her rise from her kneeling position. Then, he led her to the sink where she could get cleaned up.
“Was it something I said?”
A shadow of a smile formed on her face, as she shook her head.
“Something you ate?”
“No. That would be the side effects.”
“Side effects?”
“Doloxan.”
“You...”
“I have cancer.”
“No.” All of his feelings were somehow condensed into that one word. It wasn’t that he doubted her; he wanted to undo the truth, make it untrue.
“It’s okay if you run.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t.”
He didn’t. He led her back to their table, where she sat, acting like nothing had happened. They talked about Prima and Taylo and other authors they had read and enjoyed and some they hadn’t. When she was ready to leave, he offered to walk her to work.
“I’m not going to work. I’m on medical leave.”
“Let me walk you home, then.”
She acquiesced, taking his offered arm. They exited the cafe, and Laura led them to her place.
“Don’t you have some place to be?”
Bill turned to face her. “Retired, remember? You turned my ship into a museum.”
Laura smirked and said, “It’s that second part that really bothers you.”
That used to be true; maybe it still was, a little. It just didn’t seem important anymore. “Laura, I forgive you.”
“I didn’t ask for your forgiveness.”
“Well, you have it anyway.”
And on they walked. They arrived at Laura’s apartment, and she invited him inside. He accepted. She offered him a drink, and he declined. Instead, he led her to her sofa and helped her get comfortable.
“What can I get you?”
“A new body.”
Bill couldn’t offer her that, so he put out his hand for her to hold if she wanted. She took it, and he sat nearby, holding her hand.
Bill never ran after that. He learned how to be a caretaker, and Laura learned to accept one. Bill was at her apartment from morning till night, most days, and there were nights he didn’t leave. He read to her, made sure she ate, took her to her treatments and sat by her side. He delegated tasks to Billy and the rest of Laura’s staff. And the one time Richard Adar came to visit, Bill and Laura made it clear he wasn’t welcome.
“What are you doing here, Richard?” Laura asked.
“What kind of person would I be if I didn’t visit my favorite cabinet member when she was sick?”
“Indeed,” Bill said.
Bill’s focus wasn’t on Laura nor President Adar. He was looking at the monitors. Laura’s heart monitor started going up, as soon as Adar entered the room. Bill would take him out by force if he had to. He’d do anything to keep Laura safe.
Richard turned to Bill, whose presence he had ignored entirely when he entered the hospital room. Then he turned back to Laura. “Who’s this guy?”
“He’s. My. Friend.” Laura’s tone let Richard know in no uncertain terms that she was through with him. Completely.
“Laura,” he pleaded.
“Please go,” Laura said.
“What if I need my Secretary of Education?”
“You can handle it through Laura’s office, Mr. President. Billy is perfectly capable.”
“Is that a fact?” Richard was clearly pissed with the ‘new guy’s’ place in Laura’s life.
Bill nodded. Laura had made her position clear. To both of them. Richard offered Laura a lame “feel better” and fled.
The numbers on Laura’s heart monitor started going down immediately. Bill took her hand and squeezed it. She fell asleep, knowing he was there, and Bill sat back down and watched her sleep.
After the episode with Richard, Laura started considering her feelings for Bill Adama. He was her friend, probably her best friend. He was always there. She never had to ask for him. And she never had to thank him.
Another complication was the effectiveness of the treatment. When Laura was diagnosed on the day of the Decommissioning, she was certain her death was inevitable. She only decided to fight back because of what Commander Adama had said in his speech; otherwise, she would have eschewed treatment, settled her affairs, and taken a vacation someplace where she could die in peace. It wasn’t the best plan in the worlds, but it seemed better than what her mother had gone through. But Adama’s speech made her see she was being a coward. So, she fought.
Of course, her doctor had a theory of his own. From what she understood, there was nothing remotely medical or scientific about it. Part of Laura was worried he’d gone the way of the spiritualists. The other part wondered if he was right. Was her friendship with Bill a source of such positive energy that it was making her treatments more effective?
After months of treatment, the cancer had shrunk enough that it could be removed surgically. When Laura needed to talk to someone, she turned to Bill. Laura felt strange talking to her platonic male friend about her breasts. She kept the conversation as medical as possible--to save both of them from embarrassment. She needn’t have worried. She should have known that the man who had gone with her to pick out a wig would be supportive.
“You’ll always be beautiful.”
“Beautiful, huh?”
“Always.”
“You never...” She trailed off. Unsure of how to say what he had never done.
He knew. “Would you have wanted me to?”
“Probably not.”
“That’s why.”
“Oh.”
Everything changed after that. When Laura was sick or focusing on work, she could ignore her attraction to Bill. Doloxan had a way of destroying even the strongest feelings of arousal. But, after the surgery and her recovery, she wasn’t sick anymore, and she had decided to resign her from her post.
Laura realized she was keeping her job primarily to prove that she could. The children of the colonies deserved better than that. So Laura resigned.
That left her with a lot of free time. And she was feeling great. Suddenly all of the attraction that she had been feeling for Bill during their friendship attacked in full force. It was just a matter of getting Bill onboard. As wonderful as it was to be friends with a gentleman, Laura was ready for his more primitive nature to come out.
While Laura was busy planning her seduction techniques, Bill was wondering where he stood, where they stood. He had been there for Laura in part because she needed him--though she never said so--and in part because he loved her. She was recovering nicely and didn’t really need him anymore. He wasn’t sure she wanted him around. Laura had seemed distracted lately. Maybe he was boring her. They needed to talk. He found her in the living room on her sofa.
“Laura?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“You’re feeling better.”
“So?”
“So, you don’t need a retired old fool around.”
“Do you want to leave?”
“No.”
“Then don’t.”
They both smiled. “And, honey?”
“Yeah?”
“Come here.”
Bill was at her side in an instant. She rose from the sofa and gave him a hug, which he quickly returned. In his ear, she whispered that she loved him. Bill started tearing up, as did Laura. He kissed her forehead and said it was about time she told him.
That was the first night they shared her bed. On the nights he stayed over, Bill had been adamant about sleeping on the sofa. He insisted she needed the best sleep. If he thought she needed him at night, he’d sleep in the armchair near her bed.
Finally having Laura in his arms, Bill was happy just to hold her, but Laura had other plans. She turned in his arms and kissed his mouth. She kept kissing and teasing him until he responded. She didn’t have to wait long.
He rolled them so that she was pinned beneath him. He gazed into her eyes. “Laura...” He couldn’t finish the question. She had sick for so long--it was too soon. He could wait.
“Where’d you go, Bill?” Laura interrupted his thoughts.
“I’m right here, Laura.”
“You weren’t for a minute there.”
He sighed. “It’s too soon.”
“Too soon for what?”
“This, us.”
“Don’t you think I should be the one to decide that?”
“Yes.”
“I’m ready, Bill. I’m cancer free and in love. All things considered, I’m feeling pretty frakking great.”
“In love, huh?”
She smiled. “With this really great guy.”
“Not me, then.”
Laura smacked his arm. “Yes, you.”
Bill rubbed his arm. “That’s a hell of an arm you got. We’ll have to get you boxing.”
“I do love a good fight.”
“I know you do.”
“You’ve got me here. Now what are you going to do with me?” She raised her eyes in a clear challenge.
Bill grinned. “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”
And they did. They thought of many things.
Bill looked at the beautiful woman still pinned beneath him. She had told him she loved him twice that day, but he still didn’t believe it. Not that he thought she was lying--that’s not the kind of lie Laura would ever tell. He just didn’t expect her to ever say those words.
He had to kiss her. All over. And he did. Bill was surprised Laura offered no resistance and made no attempt to participate. She did, however, hum her pleasure. Loudly.
Undressing his love proved easy. Of course, he had seen her in various stages of undress in the last months, and on her worst days, he had helped her in and out of the shower. This was different. This was a moment to celebrate and cherish.
Bill should have known Laura wouldn’t remain a non-participant for long. Actually he was surprised she had lasted as long as she did. She must have been fighting her own impulses.
She started pulling at his clothes. She was at a disadvantage, but not for long. Bill wasn’t quite sure how, but he found himself underneath her. He didn’t mind too much. She had recovered a lot of her strength, and she regained some of the weight she lost. Bill had been on a one-man mission to fatten up Laura. Of course, it wasn’t just working on her but on him. They’d have to start an exercise regime together.
His thoughts were broken between the distractions of Laura’s kisses and watching her move. Before long, he was as naked as she. Bill moved his hands to her breasts.
He had seen them at various points of her--of their--ordeal. He’d even touched her left one: There was some excitement one morning when she was in the shower; Laura thought the tumor was getting smaller. She asked Bill to give a second opinion. He hadn’t felt the tumor before, but he had seen it enough to share in Laura’s excitement. That was the first moment Bill had truly positive thoughts. He had never given up hope, but he knew what their odds were. That was the moment he realized Laura didn’t play by the rules.
Laura was self-conscious about them after the surgery. Bill’s tender touch, the particular attention he paid her scars, pushed away any trepidation she had. If she wasn’t already sure she loved him, she would have realized it during that moment. More important, Bill’s touch said what his words hadn’t yet. He loved her. Unconditionally.
She lowered herself onto him. Bill held her hips as she moved as slowly as she needed to be comfortable. He let her control their rhythm. After they came together, Laura collapsed on top of him, sated and happy. Bill kissed her forehead, whispered that he loved her. She turned her head to face him, smirked and said it was about time. They whispered other sweet nothings until they fell asleep.
Ten years later, Laura remained cancer free, married to her best friend, and living in what was meant to be a vacation cottage on Aerilon. Their courtship wasn’t nearly as tumultuous as the beginning of their association had been.
The decision for Bill to move into Laura’s apartment was based on financial and statistical analysis. Bill spent 99% of his time with Laura at her place. It was big enough for both of them. Why should he, on his fixed government income, pay for the upkeep of his place, when he was never there?
They combined their art and book collection and he sold most of his other belongings, sans the brown sofa. It didn’t really go with Laura’s overall decor, but it was a wonderfully comfortable sofa that she associated with her lover.
Their decision to marry happened during a conversation over dinner one night. He popped the question after asking her to pass the salt. Laura couldn’t resist teasing him a bit over it, but consented--if only because he was so adorable when he pouted.
For the first year or so into their marriage, neither of them could pass the salt without Laura cracking a joke. During that time, Laura had decided to go back into teaching. She and Bill had been considering moving.
Neither of them particularly liked Caprica City, and neither needed to remain there since they were retired. Laura had few friends or connections aside from Billy and her other former assistants. She wasn’t at all surprised when Billy ran for mayor and won. He had learned a lot in the few years since he had begun as her aide. By the end of Laura’s tenure, he was doing much of her work. The boy never complained about it either: He smiled and said the experience would be useful in the future. He was right.
Bill and Lee had reconnected, and they stayed in touch. Lee wasn’t on Caprica often, as he was still in the fleet. Saul had moved to Picon with Ellen. Kara visited when she was on leave, and she always sent Bill a silly card on his birthday. Laura and Bill always got a kick out of them. And they were displayed in a prominent place in their kitchen, in the same place they kept anything that Billy or Lee sent. They were proud of all three of their children.
The happy couple wanted to live somewhere quiet. There had been so much noise in their lives. Someplace in the country, preferably by a lake, would be perfect. Laura would teach at a rural school. Bill could enjoy his retirement.
Laura looked for job openings throughout the Colonies. There was one in a small farming community on Aerilon. Neither Bill nor Laura had spent much time on Aerilon. They booked a flight: They had been meaning to go on a vacation, anyway. They checked out the school and the surrounding town. It was perfect for what they wanted. They found a lovely cottage within their price range and bought it. Laura interviewed for the job, which was really a formality (who in their right mind would turn down the former secretary of education?) and accepted the position they offered.
Moving off world was a bit of a pain, but Laura and Bill had packed well, labeling everything clearly. All of their belongings arrived intact, and they moved into their new home. There was a lake with water as clear as glass. During the winters, it froze enough for them to skate on it. It was much to Laura’s delighted surprise that Bill could skate as well as he could dance. They spent a lot of time doing both. They had also taken up jogging, and Bill did get around to teaching Laura to box.
Laura loved having a house husband. She taught him how to cook, and he always had dinner ready when she got home from school.
All in all, Laura Roslin’s life had shaped up pretty nicely. It didn’t always seem possible, but maybe that’s what made them so perfect.