Fanfic: Bitter Choices
Title: Bitter Choices
Author: somadanne
Characters: Adama/Roslin, Ishay, Lee Adama
Rating: M
Timeline: Crossroads
Words: 1850
Written for the adama_roslin Month of Love VII. The prompt was “wrong choice.”
Many thanks to the amazing larsfarm77 for her quick and fabulous beta work.
“Madame President, are you sleeping with the Admiral?” Lee’s question rings through the makeshift courtroom.
Silence. She can’t see their faces. Can’t move.
“Madame President! Are you sleeping with my father?” Lee clips each repeated word, his rising voice quiet with squelched rage.
Laura can feel Bill moving in her, his hands softly, softly touching her breasts, the delicious dreamless slumber afterward.
No one objects to the question. No one steps forward to stop him.
“No. I’ve never slept with your father.”
She wakes up drenched in sweat.
***
Laura’s vial of blood stood crooked in its holder.
The medical tape over a small wad of cotton pulled at her skin where Ishay had covered up the needle prick.
An orderly slid the curtain open. His eyes widened when he saw the president, and the metal rings sang as he quickly closed the curtain again.
“I don’t know why you even bother closing the curtain. There’s no privacy here.”
Ishay raised an eyebrow, not acknowledging Laura’s obvious irritation. “Dr. Cottle, says you’ve decided to go ahead with diloxin treatment. Once we get the blood tests back, you’ll come back and we’ll get started.”
Laura nodded. The diloxin would at least give everyone the illusion that she could get better.
“Do you have any questions about what it’s going to be like or about the side effects?”
“No. I’ve … seen what it does. I know what I’m facing.” Baldness. Vomiting. Lack of appetite. Bone-crushing fatigue. Death.
***
She strode bleary-eyed to Adama’s cabin. Colonial One would be a beehive of activity with the trial starting tomorrow-activity she wanted no part of right now. She barely nodded to her Marines as she closed the hatch. She threw her jacket onto the couch and kicked her shoes off, one flying away from her and thwacking against the bulkhead.
She’d done it, done what she’d sworn years ago that she’d never do-agreed to let them start poisoning her. If she was lucky, she’d have a few treatments before she started feeling sick all the time.
After making herself comfortable, she went through the motions of making tea. She curled up in a chair, letting its back and arms engulf her, and stared at the faded gold letters on the spine of a book Bill had left on the table.
She couldn’t meet his eyes when he came into the cabin. Her bitter tea had gone cold, but she took a drink anyway. She closed her eyes, as if trying to hide.
“Laura.”
She grunted in response, then picked up the book, peering over the top while Bill sat down. His pants rode up his shins, and Laura could see where his socks drooped over the tops of his boots.
She hadn’t seen his feet since New Caprica.
He hadn’t kissed her since New Caprica.
Hadn’t frakked her since New Caprica.
Bill walked over and pushed the book down, away from her face. “How did it go?”
“Fine. Just a blood test.” She rolled her eyes and jerked her hand away when he reached for her.
“Please just leave me alone.” She clenched her teeth and tried to look away, but instead watched as Bill walked over to the drink cart and poured two drinks.
“What did you decide to do?” he asked with forced calmness, handing her a drink. Laura gulped the whiskey down as Bill sat down on the couch across from her. It burned down her throat, and its heat settled in her belly.
“I’m going to take the stand and be cross examined. About Baltar. And after that, I’m going to let them fill me with poison. And I’m going to pretend I’m not going to-”
“Laura. Stop.”
And I love you and need you to think I’ll live.
The warmth of the whiskey spread through her. Bill filled her glass again.
***
She woke up in his bunk. He was behind her, but where she would have expected to feel his bare legs against her calves the rough wool of his uniform pants scratched against her.
She rubbed at her eyes and could feel the fine grit of dried tears.
Bill stirred behind her. “You okay now?”
“I’m fine. I guess I got a little dizzy there after those drinks. What time is it?”
She could feel him twisting to get a look at the clock, and then leaning over to switch on a small nightlight.
“Zero three forty,” he said.
They had about six hours until the trial started.
Bill settled back against her, and she tensed as he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her lightly on her shoulder through the blouse she was still wearing.
Gods. Just one more time. Before I’m too sick. Before I’m bald and frail. Before I don’t want to anymore.
She turned toward him and kissed him, her tongue teasing at his lips. She could still taste the whiskey he’d drunk before they’d fallen asleep. It was sweet again, so sweet, and Bill slowly nudged her onto her back. He hovered over her, straddling her thighs, his smile widening as he undid each button on her blouse.
He pushed the fabric aside to reveal his favorite red bra. “Frak me, you’ve got that one on.” He traced the lacy top of the bra, drawing a heated line on her skin as he dipped his finger beneath the fabric.
“What were you thinking when you packed this one?” he asked, teasing her.
“I wasn’t thinking at all, really,” she replied. I was just surviving in the moment. Trying to get away from everything.
Laura raised her hands above her head, meeting his eyes. She could feel his cock hardening against her leg through the fabric of their clothing.
She turned her head away under the quiet intensity of his gaze and brought her arms down and folded them tight across her stomach.
I can’t do this.
But his hands were all over her, warming her skin where he touched her, and when he leaned down to kiss her again, hard, she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair.
Bill lifted her a bit and slid his hands beneath her blouse and up her back, muttering endearments, but Laura tensed again and tried to push him away when he started unhooking her bra.
“Leave it on.” She couldn’t bear to watch him looking at her that naked, to wonder whether he was trying to figure out where the cancer was. She couldn’t look at him, knew she’d be using his body in a desperate attempt to quash the gripping, insidious black mass of fear that engulfed her.
Baltar will go free and I’ll be dead.
She squirmed away and turned toward the bulkhead, her back to him, guilt and desire fighting within her.
“All right,” Bill said, the disappointment in his voice clear.
He pressed his forehead between her shoulder blades and was still for a moment, his breath gentle against her skin, his hand resting on her hip.
“What do you want, Laura?”
“You.” The word slipped out as a whispered plea before she could stop herself.
His zipper pull was hard between her fingers, and she fumbled trying to unzip his pants. He reached between them to help her until she could finally grasp him. He pressed against her ass inelegantly, tugging her skirt up at the same time.
“Let me take it off,” she said, and she unbuttoned the waistband and shoved the skirt down until it was tangled in her legs and the bedding.
She took a deep breath, and her skin tingled as he kissed her down her spine. Bill tucked his thumbs into her panties and slowly pushed them down to her knees, his hands warm on her skin.
“Gods,” he said. “It’s been so long.”
“That was your choice, Bill.”
“Shhh.”
She stayed turned away from him, and he caressed her ass, slowly finding his way into her, holding her hips tight and kissing her neck, his shallow thrusts leaving her wanting more.
“I’m going to turn over.”
She pulled away and turned onto her back, kicking her skirt and panties the rest of the way off, all the while looking up at the man above her, his eyes full of longing.
She took a deep breath, shaking, and reached behind and unclasped her bra, shimmying out of it and letting it drop to the floor, then raised her hands above her head again, this time letting him take all of her in as he knelt above her.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
For now.
He touched one breast, then the other, and ran his thumb over her nipples until she pushed up hard against him, wanting more, always more. He grabbed her hands, held them above her head, and Laura gasped as he entered her again, deep this time, his movements hard and fast, matched by her own.
He filled her, and filled her, and she lost herself for a moment, wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer, moving her hips with him, oblivious for once to everything else.
She heard his whispered “I love you” as she fell asleep, his arms tight around her, and she smiled.
***
Before the trial started for the day, Laura helped Bill adjust his ceremonial sash. “Let’s go nail Baltar’s ass.” She didn’t notice when Bill didn’t respond.
As Lee talked, Laura could feel Bill moving in her, his hands softly, softly touching her breasts, falling together into blissful oblivion.
She brought her thoughts back to the courtroom and turned her attention to Lee. She could handle him. She’d handled the press for years now.
It doesn’t matter what you ask, Lee. Your father’s going to make sure Baltar’s convicted.
She answered Lee’s questions, but her stomach sank and panic started to grip her.
She heard herself begging. “Please don’t do this. Please.”
“Madame President, are you taking chamalla at this time?”
He’d trapped her. But she wouldn’t let him get away with leaving it there.
“Go ahead. Ask me why. Finish what you started,” she said, commanding him.
“Why are you taking the chamalla again, Madame President?” She saw the realization of what she was about to say hit him.
Because it helps me forget for a moment what the diloxin is about to do to me.
“I am taking chamalla again because my cancer has returned.”
The sick look on Lee’s face made the revelation worth it.
***
“Not guilty is not the same as innocent.”
Laura could see Bill almost flinching from the anger in her eyes as she realized the truth. “You voted for his acquittal, didn’t you?” She spat the words out.
“I hate to say it. Defense made their case. Prosecution didn’t.”
Laura laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Gaius Baltar is a traitor. We both know that, regardless of the outcome of this ‘trial.’”
She pushed him away.
“No one is asking anyone to forget or to forgive. We have to look to the future.”
A future I don’t have.
Author: somadanne
Characters: Adama/Roslin, Ishay, Lee Adama
Rating: M
Timeline: Crossroads
Words: 1850
Written for the adama_roslin Month of Love VII. The prompt was “wrong choice.”
Many thanks to the amazing larsfarm77 for her quick and fabulous beta work.
“Madame President, are you sleeping with the Admiral?” Lee’s question rings through the makeshift courtroom.
Silence. She can’t see their faces. Can’t move.
“Madame President! Are you sleeping with my father?” Lee clips each repeated word, his rising voice quiet with squelched rage.
Laura can feel Bill moving in her, his hands softly, softly touching her breasts, the delicious dreamless slumber afterward.
No one objects to the question. No one steps forward to stop him.
“No. I’ve never slept with your father.”
She wakes up drenched in sweat.
***
Laura’s vial of blood stood crooked in its holder.
The medical tape over a small wad of cotton pulled at her skin where Ishay had covered up the needle prick.
An orderly slid the curtain open. His eyes widened when he saw the president, and the metal rings sang as he quickly closed the curtain again.
“I don’t know why you even bother closing the curtain. There’s no privacy here.”
Ishay raised an eyebrow, not acknowledging Laura’s obvious irritation. “Dr. Cottle, says you’ve decided to go ahead with diloxin treatment. Once we get the blood tests back, you’ll come back and we’ll get started.”
Laura nodded. The diloxin would at least give everyone the illusion that she could get better.
“Do you have any questions about what it’s going to be like or about the side effects?”
“No. I’ve … seen what it does. I know what I’m facing.” Baldness. Vomiting. Lack of appetite. Bone-crushing fatigue. Death.
***
She strode bleary-eyed to Adama’s cabin. Colonial One would be a beehive of activity with the trial starting tomorrow-activity she wanted no part of right now. She barely nodded to her Marines as she closed the hatch. She threw her jacket onto the couch and kicked her shoes off, one flying away from her and thwacking against the bulkhead.
She’d done it, done what she’d sworn years ago that she’d never do-agreed to let them start poisoning her. If she was lucky, she’d have a few treatments before she started feeling sick all the time.
After making herself comfortable, she went through the motions of making tea. She curled up in a chair, letting its back and arms engulf her, and stared at the faded gold letters on the spine of a book Bill had left on the table.
She couldn’t meet his eyes when he came into the cabin. Her bitter tea had gone cold, but she took a drink anyway. She closed her eyes, as if trying to hide.
“Laura.”
She grunted in response, then picked up the book, peering over the top while Bill sat down. His pants rode up his shins, and Laura could see where his socks drooped over the tops of his boots.
She hadn’t seen his feet since New Caprica.
He hadn’t kissed her since New Caprica.
Hadn’t frakked her since New Caprica.
Bill walked over and pushed the book down, away from her face. “How did it go?”
“Fine. Just a blood test.” She rolled her eyes and jerked her hand away when he reached for her.
“Please just leave me alone.” She clenched her teeth and tried to look away, but instead watched as Bill walked over to the drink cart and poured two drinks.
“What did you decide to do?” he asked with forced calmness, handing her a drink. Laura gulped the whiskey down as Bill sat down on the couch across from her. It burned down her throat, and its heat settled in her belly.
“I’m going to take the stand and be cross examined. About Baltar. And after that, I’m going to let them fill me with poison. And I’m going to pretend I’m not going to-”
“Laura. Stop.”
And I love you and need you to think I’ll live.
The warmth of the whiskey spread through her. Bill filled her glass again.
***
She woke up in his bunk. He was behind her, but where she would have expected to feel his bare legs against her calves the rough wool of his uniform pants scratched against her.
She rubbed at her eyes and could feel the fine grit of dried tears.
Bill stirred behind her. “You okay now?”
“I’m fine. I guess I got a little dizzy there after those drinks. What time is it?”
She could feel him twisting to get a look at the clock, and then leaning over to switch on a small nightlight.
“Zero three forty,” he said.
They had about six hours until the trial started.
Bill settled back against her, and she tensed as he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her lightly on her shoulder through the blouse she was still wearing.
Gods. Just one more time. Before I’m too sick. Before I’m bald and frail. Before I don’t want to anymore.
She turned toward him and kissed him, her tongue teasing at his lips. She could still taste the whiskey he’d drunk before they’d fallen asleep. It was sweet again, so sweet, and Bill slowly nudged her onto her back. He hovered over her, straddling her thighs, his smile widening as he undid each button on her blouse.
He pushed the fabric aside to reveal his favorite red bra. “Frak me, you’ve got that one on.” He traced the lacy top of the bra, drawing a heated line on her skin as he dipped his finger beneath the fabric.
“What were you thinking when you packed this one?” he asked, teasing her.
“I wasn’t thinking at all, really,” she replied. I was just surviving in the moment. Trying to get away from everything.
Laura raised her hands above her head, meeting his eyes. She could feel his cock hardening against her leg through the fabric of their clothing.
She turned her head away under the quiet intensity of his gaze and brought her arms down and folded them tight across her stomach.
I can’t do this.
But his hands were all over her, warming her skin where he touched her, and when he leaned down to kiss her again, hard, she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair.
Bill lifted her a bit and slid his hands beneath her blouse and up her back, muttering endearments, but Laura tensed again and tried to push him away when he started unhooking her bra.
“Leave it on.” She couldn’t bear to watch him looking at her that naked, to wonder whether he was trying to figure out where the cancer was. She couldn’t look at him, knew she’d be using his body in a desperate attempt to quash the gripping, insidious black mass of fear that engulfed her.
Baltar will go free and I’ll be dead.
She squirmed away and turned toward the bulkhead, her back to him, guilt and desire fighting within her.
“All right,” Bill said, the disappointment in his voice clear.
He pressed his forehead between her shoulder blades and was still for a moment, his breath gentle against her skin, his hand resting on her hip.
“What do you want, Laura?”
“You.” The word slipped out as a whispered plea before she could stop herself.
His zipper pull was hard between her fingers, and she fumbled trying to unzip his pants. He reached between them to help her until she could finally grasp him. He pressed against her ass inelegantly, tugging her skirt up at the same time.
“Let me take it off,” she said, and she unbuttoned the waistband and shoved the skirt down until it was tangled in her legs and the bedding.
She took a deep breath, and her skin tingled as he kissed her down her spine. Bill tucked his thumbs into her panties and slowly pushed them down to her knees, his hands warm on her skin.
“Gods,” he said. “It’s been so long.”
“That was your choice, Bill.”
“Shhh.”
She stayed turned away from him, and he caressed her ass, slowly finding his way into her, holding her hips tight and kissing her neck, his shallow thrusts leaving her wanting more.
“I’m going to turn over.”
She pulled away and turned onto her back, kicking her skirt and panties the rest of the way off, all the while looking up at the man above her, his eyes full of longing.
She took a deep breath, shaking, and reached behind and unclasped her bra, shimmying out of it and letting it drop to the floor, then raised her hands above her head again, this time letting him take all of her in as he knelt above her.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
For now.
He touched one breast, then the other, and ran his thumb over her nipples until she pushed up hard against him, wanting more, always more. He grabbed her hands, held them above her head, and Laura gasped as he entered her again, deep this time, his movements hard and fast, matched by her own.
He filled her, and filled her, and she lost herself for a moment, wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer, moving her hips with him, oblivious for once to everything else.
She heard his whispered “I love you” as she fell asleep, his arms tight around her, and she smiled.
***
Before the trial started for the day, Laura helped Bill adjust his ceremonial sash. “Let’s go nail Baltar’s ass.” She didn’t notice when Bill didn’t respond.
As Lee talked, Laura could feel Bill moving in her, his hands softly, softly touching her breasts, falling together into blissful oblivion.
She brought her thoughts back to the courtroom and turned her attention to Lee. She could handle him. She’d handled the press for years now.
It doesn’t matter what you ask, Lee. Your father’s going to make sure Baltar’s convicted.
She answered Lee’s questions, but her stomach sank and panic started to grip her.
She heard herself begging. “Please don’t do this. Please.”
“Madame President, are you taking chamalla at this time?”
He’d trapped her. But she wouldn’t let him get away with leaving it there.
“Go ahead. Ask me why. Finish what you started,” she said, commanding him.
“Why are you taking the chamalla again, Madame President?” She saw the realization of what she was about to say hit him.
Because it helps me forget for a moment what the diloxin is about to do to me.
“I am taking chamalla again because my cancer has returned.”
The sick look on Lee’s face made the revelation worth it.
***
“Not guilty is not the same as innocent.”
Laura could see Bill almost flinching from the anger in her eyes as she realized the truth. “You voted for his acquittal, didn’t you?” She spat the words out.
“I hate to say it. Defense made their case. Prosecution didn’t.”
Laura laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Gaius Baltar is a traitor. We both know that, regardless of the outcome of this ‘trial.’”
She pushed him away.
“No one is asking anyone to forget or to forgive. We have to look to the future.”
A future I don’t have.