Two Roads Diverged : Chapter 1
Title: Two Roads Diverged (1/10)
Author: icedteainthebag
Word Count: 34,420
Rating: MA
Pairings: Ellen Tigh/Saul Tigh, Laura Roslin/Bill Adama
Warnings: This fic contains graphic physical violence (no blood), sexual situations-both consensual and of dubious consent-and character death. Chapters containing violence, dubcon or death will have warnings in the headers. I'm not going to warn for consensual sex, you should just expect that from me. There are no warnings for Chapter 1.
Summary: Sometimes we make mistakes when we think we're doing the right thing.
Artist: MrsDrJackson
Link to Art: banner can be found here.
Notes: Written for the 2009 bsg_bigbang.
I have an excessive number of amazing people to thank. I'll only put this on the first chapter so you don’t have to read it ten times over. This story was inspired by a drabble I wrote for nnaylime. From 100 words comes 34,000. Who knew?
Thanks to sleepismyfriend for intimidating me into signing up ;). somadanne and dashakay, thank you for your incredible insight and grammar skills. meryl_edan, thank you for pushing me, for helping me keep Laura real, and for enduring bitchfacing. And tjonesy and larsfarm77, you both rock my world, thank you for the beta awesomeness. "This is just bare bones, right? You're not done."
Thanks to my cheerleading section: my FL that supported me greatly. snoopy0917, ddagent and i_am_davnee bore the greatest burdens through this process. Thank you. And a quick shout-out to the bigbang bad girls. ;)
Finally, Pinochet, you are an asshole.
x x x x
New Caprica was dark but rarely silent. The hum of the ship had been replaced by the sounds of life surrounding her-a baby's distant cry, groups of people walking too close to her tent, the thunder rolling across the nearby hill that meant in the morning, she'd be trudging through ankle-deep mud and ruing the day she stepped foot on this miserable, "habitable" wasteland.
Ellen Tigh lay awake on her cot alone and wondered why she wasn't more thankful for the firm ground under her feet.
This being alone thing had not been her plan when it was announced the Fleet would colonize New Caprica. She'd been initially excited about the idea-a place to land, Saul taking a break from Galactica, the two of them shacking up together again like they were college kids. Living it up as much as they could, maybe even enjoying life a little bit together.
Yeah, that didn't happen.
Their first argument had been about going planetside in the first place, even before frakkin' Gaius Baltar won the presidential election. Saul didn't want to live on New Caprica, but gave her an out. He told her to go ahead and settle if she wanted, told her to go ahead and frak around if she wanted.
It wasn't what she wanted at all. All she wanted was him. He never really understood that.
She knew Saul had spent more time in the air than he had on the ground. He was used to being on a ship, day in, day out, not seeing the sun, not feeling the wind on his face.
She wasn't used to it, nor did she want to settle for a life sitting around in the XO's quarters, waiting for him to come home and tell her about his daily adventures in the CIC with his good buddy Bill Adama.
So when people started settling on the planet, she decided to show him he was not going to keep her around as his ship wife anymore. She was never one to be kept.
She'd told Saul her decision to settle and he'd arranged for a tent on the ground, a tent of their own. It wasn't much-canvas and a cot, some blankets and some rugs-but it wasn't a Battlestar. For that, she was fairly happy.
But not completely happy.
The second argument was proving to be the kicker. She'd known it would be when she started in with him, arguing endlessly about taking a break from his XO duties.
Sure, he would come down for a few days at a time, mostly meeting with Galen and Sam about establishing some sort of underground communications…whatever, to keep in touch with Bill, of course. Then he'd come back to the tent and they'd have some dinner, frak, reminisce about old times, and for a few fleeting moments it felt like a real kind of life, a life she could get used to.
And then he'd go back up to the ship, back to being the Admiral's dancing monkey, and she was left alone.
Again.
Nothing ever changed. She didn't know why she tried to convince him, every time he came down to see her, that maybe Bill didn't need him as much as he thought. That the Cylons were gone and everybody was safe. She would try her hardest to keep her tears at bay while she listed all the reasons she needed him more than Bill did. Sometimes she'd even throw in a few implied threats, like how handsome the pyramid players were looking or how the guy from the vegetable cart at the market gave her a once-over that morning while she picked up potatoes.
Those tactics didn't work back on Picon and they weren't working here either. He always left. He was devoted to the ship, devoted to Bill, devoted to his career and all of the exciting things it involved that consequently, didn't involve her at all.
This was not the way she wanted things to be.
The next time Bill came down-when he wasn't busy frakking the ex-President, that is-she and he would have a heart-to-heart talk.
x x x x
When Ellen saw Bill one morning at random in the market, he was looking at a basketful of bread. This didn't surprise her, but made her smile even more than the idea of Bill without Laura around.
That'll make things easier.
"Hey, stranger," she said, walking up to him and putting a hand on his arm.
He turned to her, his look of confusion ebbing into one of restrained greeting. He always regarded her with a sense of incredulity and it pissed her off. "Ellen. It's nice to see you."
"Well, it's nice to see you," she said with a grin. "How's Laura?"
Bill didn't bristle, but she felt the muscle under the sleeve of his jacket tense up. Even though it was safe for Bill and Laura to be together since Laura wasn't President, they seemed to be keeping things on the down low.
It's okay, flyboy. Nobody out here cares who you're frakking.
"She's good," he finally answered.
I'll bet she is.
"Wanted some bread for lunch," he added.
"Oh, and she cooks, too," Ellen teased. "Haven't you found yourself a keeper?"
Maybe she could keep you a little busier.
"She does what she can," he said, giving her a half-smile. He picked up a loaf of bread and tossed a cubit into the basket in front of the vendor with a nod.
"So say we all," Ellen replied with a soft laugh. "Listen, Bill, before you run off to be with your woman, would you mind having a bit of a chat with me in private?"
He looked her over and began to walk. She walked alongside him, waiting for his response.
"What's up?" he asked, tucking the bread between his elbow and waist.
"Is this as private as we're gonna get?" she asked.
"Yes," he responded immediately.
She sighed. No sense in arguing with Bill when he was in one of his difficult moods. She knew he had a tendency to have a one-track mind, and she was fairly certain which track he was cruising on as he wandered back toward Laura's tent.
"Okay. It's about Saul. I want him down here with me."
Bill looked over at her. "You talk to him about this already?"
She nodded, her stomach fluttering. "I did. He won't listen to me. But he'll listen to you."
Bill let out a low chuckle. "Since when?"
They turned down a walkway between mess hall tents, and Ellen was pleased that he'd taken a detour to hear her out. She sighed deeply as she slowed to a stop. He turned to face her, looking amused.
"Listen, Bill, we all know it's pointless to have him up there," she said. "There's nothing for him to do. He's going to drive himself frakkin' nuts. Down here he can have a purpose. Gods know the Colonists need all the help they can get."
"So you think Saul should commit himself to building houses full time? Maybe digging some drainage ditches?"
Ellen let out an exasperated sigh.
Sometimes you are so thick in the head.
"Bill, I'm frakkin' serious." She rolled her eyes. "Please, for once, take me seriously because I think I'm right. Saul needs you to let him go."
Bill's expression changed. She knew that look well. They'd known each other too long for her not to know when Bill Adama was seriously contemplating whether the decision he was about to make was not only right for the individuals involved, but for the entirety of the Fleet.
That was the way Bill always worked. Every whole was the sum of its parts.
"I could use a man on the ground," he said. "Make sure things are running smoothly. That frakker Baltar certainly isn't holding up his end of the bargain."
"People know Saul," she urged. "They like Saul. They can relate to him."
She was laying it on thick.
Think of the people, Bill.
"So you want me to tell him to stay planetside from now on?" Bill asked. "Kick him the hell off my ship?"
She smiled. "You might want to be a little gentler than that."
"What, you think he can't handle a direct order?"
"It'll be hard for him to leave. He loves the ship." He loves you. "It's his life."
"No, Ellen," Bill answered. "You're his life."
"Then tell him he needs to stay down on New Caprica with his wife and start living," she said.
She saw it in his face, if only for an instant-a flash of sadness, maybe regret. He covered it well, quickly looking down at the loaf of bread under his arm. She leaned closer and slid her hand up to his shoulder.
"Maybe we all need to start living a little more, Bill."
He was still for a moment. Then he shrugged and she pulled her hand away.
"I'll talk to Saul."
Ellen stood up straight. "Thank you."
She watched him, his mind somewhere else. Her lips parted to speak.
"I've got to get back," he said. "Don't want to be in the doghouse tonight."
She laughed and swallowed the lump in the back of her throat. "Something tells me the last place a person'd want to be is in Laura Roslin's doghouse."
He looked up at her and smiled. "You have no idea."
x x x x
Two weeks later
Ellen was happy.
She snuggled closer to Saul, running her fingers over the thin cotton covering his chest, drawing circles, tracing patterns. She buried her nose in his neck, relishing the new, earthy smell of him-dirt and sweat from a day's worth of work around the camp. Colonizing was hard work, she’d realized as she watched it from afar. She'd felt out of place when she'd tried to help at first, the stares of others making her blush as she struggled with a shovelful of dirt.
Her skills at construction may have been nil, but there was no way she'd let Saul come home without having some sort of meal on the table, even if it was cold.
And maybe some frakking afterward.
"This is it," she murmured against his skin.
"Hmm," he grumbled, running his finger down her spine.
"This is us," she said, nudging her chin against his shoulder. "What I've always wanted. Right here." She patted his chest once for emphasis.
"Oh yeah?" Saul asked. He sounded tired, but amused. "Cuddled in a shoddy canvas tent for warmth with a belly full of watery soup while the wind whistles through the flaps?"
Ellen grinned and kissed his cheek.
"Sharing a toilet with five hundred other stinking Colonists?" he added.
She laughed and tucked her hand around his torso, pulling herself tightly against him. There were so many things she could say, but when it came to their relationship, they were people of few words. It had often been better that way.
"You and me," she said. "No ship, no Fleet, no crew. No Bill. No distractions."
He hummed in acknowledgment and breathed deeply.
"Do you realize how long it's been since we shared a moment outside of all that?"
He pressed his lips against the top of her head and kissed it. "I don't remember."
"Mmmm." She snuggled into him and wrapped a leg around his thigh. "I don't have to share you now. And it makes me so happy, Saul, even if we are suffering it out on this miserable excuse for a planet."
"It'll get better." His fingers tickled her side and she sighed, her skin tingling under his touch.
"I know," she drawled. "But godsdamn, what I wouldn't give for a pedicure right now."
"Aw, woman. I'm sure you look fine." Saul ran his hand across her hip and cupped her ass through the thick cotton of her nightgown.
And what I wouldn't give for some lingerie.
"I don't know," she teased, feeling a familiar slow burn kindling within her. She snagged his earlobe between her teeth. "There are a few things in a state of disrepair."
"Well," he chuckled, "I'm quite the handyman now."
"Mm-hm." She felt him pushing up the edge of her nightgown, his palm sliding over the bare skin of her thigh. She whimpered into the skin of his neck, encouraging him.
This is home. What it was always meant to be.
Saul shifted and rose over her, elbows planted above her shoulders. She ran her hands up his strong arms, thinner than usual, but bound by muscle. He lowered his face to hers and kissed her.
"I'm gonna check out this state of disrepair," he growled. "See if there's anything I can take care of down there."
"Good hunting, Colonel," she breathed with a smile.
Gods, I love looking into your eyes.
Saul drew the blanket off of her and kissed her neck. She sighed softly as he pushed her nightgown up to graze his teeth along her stomach.
"Did I ever tell you how glad I am I married you?" he teased, planting kisses around her navel.
A familiar line.
An automatic response slipped past her lips. "Not once."
"Oh," he said, kissing along the edge of her underwear. "Well, then, I'll save it for a special occasion."
Shivering first at the night air that caressed her skin, she soon shivered under his mouth and hands. He made her feel like a woman-powerful yet vulnerable, claimed yet free. It had been so long-so damn long-since she'd felt that from him. And longer since she could return that feeling and give herself to him completely.
Finally, it was just the two of them.
x x x x
Laura and Bill had spent a lazy day together. She accepted it without question when he took a few extra days of shore leave, enjoying it as much as she could.
There were times when she wondered what things were so important up on Galactica that he couldn't make more time for her, but then, as usual, she passed off those thoughts.
Be happy with what you have. It's more than what you had before.
The hour grew late and Laura was immersed in reviewing schoolwork. Her job, though usually thankless, provided her with a means to keep making a positive impact on the lives of others.
This was just on a less stressful level.
Most of the time.
Bill had gone out with Saul to have a "strategic meeting" hours before, and she was growing weary of reading papers. She stood up and stretched, then pulled on her sweater and tugged on her boots.
She knew exactly where to find them.
Laura walked the now-navigable maze between the tents to the makeshift bar in the middle of the camp. A strategic meeting with Saul couldn't involve a lot of strategy, because frankly, what was there to strategize about anymore? It did, however, involve a fair amount of drinking and carousing.
She heard Saul's raucous laughter as she approached the bar. The two men were sitting alongside each other, glasses of New Caprican moonshine in their hands.
She was surprised to see Ellen there as well, lounging with her arm across the bar like she owned the place. Laura surmised the Tighs probably did own a chunk of the place, singlehandedly responsible for a large percentage of the moonshine sales.
Community investment. How benevolent of them.
Laura wrapped her arms around her waist, still chilly despite her layers of clothes.
"How's the strategic meeting going?" she asked, walking up behind Bill.
Bill seemed surprised to see her, though not embarrassed to be at the bar.
"Plenty of strategizin' going on tonight!" Saul proclaimed, tilting his glass and tapping it on the bar. "Like how to get ol' Joe here to notice I've been on bingo fuel for half a frakkin' hour."
"Hey," Bill said, sliding his arm around her hips.
She tensed up at first-she wasn't used to publicly displaying their affection, and now on the rare occasions that they let it happen, it still felt inappropriate, even though she knew better. She took a deep breath and relaxed into his arm at the sight of his toothy grin. "We were strategizing," he insisted, a gleam in his eye.
Laura raised her eyebrows and nodded with a smirk.
"They were, I heard them," Ellen piped up from beside Saul. "But they always strategize better with a little alcohol in them. Always have."
Laura looked at Ellen, who was resting her head in her palm. She hummed, then looked back at Bill. It seemed Ellen was also an integral part of the strategic meeting, though she wasn't sure how she fit into the picture.
"How's the grading going?" Bill asked.
"You really haven't lived until you've read twenty-six fifth grade essays on ‘My Favorite God.'"
Bill chuckled and gave her a squeeze through her thick wool sweater. "So who's the overall favorite?"
"Mars. Big surprise, huh?" She tapped her fingers atop the bar, attracting Joe's attention. Joe quickly dropped a tall glass of moonshine in front of her-there was no need to place an order, they only had one type of swill on New Caprica now-much to Saul's irritation as he pushed his still-empty cup away.
"Makes me proud." Bill finished off the rest of his drink.
She examined his profile and wondered what god William Adama would have written about when he was young, a little more idealistic, a lot less war-worn.
"So Saul," Bill said as he stealthily slid his hand under the edge of Laura's sweater. She chuckled as he lightly cupped her ass.
Fine. A little groping won't hurt.
"Yes, sir," Saul barked, a little too cheerfully.
"Do you think the ex-President has a nice ass?" he asked. Laura's lips parted in surprise and she smacked him on the arm hard enough to make him wince.
"You really want me checking out your woman's ass, old man?" Saul said, tilting back a bit to try and see around Bill. "I ain't gotta problem with that, but she might."
Laura rolled her eyes. "I should sit down before you land yourself in more trouble."
Bill chuckled, his palm still pressing into her. "You could have a seat, but the only free chair is over there." Bill nodded in Ellen's direction. "Unless, of course," he added, pulling her closer and nearly into his lap, "you want to sit here."
Laura laughed as she steadied her footing. She ran her fingers over his hand. "Oh, that's all right," she teased, even though she wasn't sure it was fine at all to have to sit next to Ellen. She grabbed her drink. "Would hate to interrupt your strategizin'."
With that, she pried his fingers off her hip and heard him groan as she walked away.
Oh, come on, Bill. You should be used to my teasing by now.
Laura walked over to the seat next to Ellen, who stopped kissing Saul's ear as Laura got comfortable. She took the first sip of her drink and nearly gagged at the pungent fumes that immediately cleared her sinuses.
Ellen turned to Laura with a broad smile. "So, how's it feel to be a military wife?" she asked, taking a sip of her drink.
Laura stared at her for an extended moment.
"I don't think I need to tell you that I'm not anybody's wife."
Ellen leaned closer. "You know what I mean."
Laura took a deep breath through her nose. It never took long for Ellen to get on her nerves. She knew there had to be some other side to this woman, some redeeming qualities, for Saul to love her as much as he did, for Bill to tolerate her so often. It just had yet to be seen.
"Cut the crap, Ellen," Laura said, taking another drink of her caustic beverage.
"Fine." Ellen put her weight on both elbows on the bar, keeping her eyes on Laura. "I'll tell you what. I was so happy when Bill kicked Saul off Galactica and down here with me." Ellen took another drink, seemingly savoring the taste. Laura took another drink and didn't savor it nearly as much. "I was tired of being second to his career."
Laura glanced at Bill and Saul, who were engrossed in conversation.
She knew exactly what Ellen was saying-she'd experienced it in the past, especially with Richard. But this wasn't the time to broach that subject, and definitely not with someone who ran at the mouth like Ellen Tigh did.
"I felt like the other woman to Bill all the time," Ellen said, arching her eyebrow and glancing over at her.
It seemed like Ellen's eyes always sparkled when she knew she had struck a nerve. Laura tried to hide that Ellen's confession had unsettled her, but the warm buzz of the alcohol beginning to pump through her bloodstream made it difficult to hide. "How, exactly?" she asked.
"Those two are like peas in a pod." Ellen shrugged in their direction. "It's all Fleet this, tyllium that, now it's Cylons this and that. I don't think I heard Saul talk about anything but 'frakkin' Cylons' for months when we actually had private time together, which wasn't often enough anyway. Until we came down here."
Laura hummed and took a longer drink. "Isn't that part of the job?" Laura asked. "Didn't you know that going in?"
Laura certainly knew it. She knew better than to expect Bill's undivided attention at most times. There were rare moments in which they were completely attuned to each other-the same moments in which they let themselves go, forgot about who they were and the responsibilities he held, the ones she used to hold-but most other times she could see it in his eyes. Always thinking, always scheming to make things work, to make life better for the Fleet.
She used to be the same way before she lost the election. Now she focused on what she could still control-her work at the school, a few friendships she'd built since being down on the planet. She could make decisions now and nobody's fate hung in the balance but her own.
"You think you know, going in," Ellen said, sighing. "But you also hope that it might change. It never does. Trust me, I've seen it in my marriage, I saw it with Bill and Carolanne-"
"That's none of my business."
Bill rarely talked about his first marriage-nor did she talk about her relationship with Richard-and she felt like if he ever did, then that would be the time for her to know more details. She was a little curious, but at the same time, didn't want to take Ellen's perspective to heart.
Ellen looked at her, a smile playing across her lips. "All of it's your business, Laura. It became your business the minute you two started frakking like teenagers."
Oh, gods.
Laura sucked down the rest of her drink, a hard swallow punctuated with a cough.
"You need to know what you're getting into," Ellen finished.
Feigning a reassuring smile, Laura tapped her empty glass on the bar. "It's been nice talking to you. I need to go grade more essays."
"Just think about it," Ellen said.
"I do," Laura said softly. "I have."
She stood up and pulled her arms behind her back in a stretch as she walked up beside Bill. Her body was heated, the alcohol having taken quick effect. "Hey," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder.
He turned to her and kissed the top of her hand, his lips soft. "You survive the conversation with Ellen?"
She gave him a smile and lowered her head. "I did. Did you strategize?"
"Oh, maybe." Bill kissed her fingers one at a time. "Not sure I want to say what kind of strategizing we were doing."
"Hmm," she teased, his kisses sending a tingle up her arm. "That sounds classified to me."
"I might tell you later on tonight," he said, his voice low. She knew that tone well. It sent a muted flutter of warmth through her abdomen.
"I'm headed back to my tent. More grading to do." She squeezed his shoulder.
"You grading papers liquored up again?"
Laura chuckled. "Maybe it'll numb the pain."
She leaned down to kiss his cheek. His fingers drifted into her hair and he looked into her eyes, his gaze playful. She pressed her mouth onto his ear.
"I'd better see you soon," she murmured. "I need to be briefed on your strategic plans."
"Debriefed, maybe," he said. He copped another feel of her ass and she backed up, giving him a teasing glare.
"Papers," she said firmly.
Back in her tent, she'd barely picked up the next essay to be graded before he was there, kissing her, his hands roaming her body.
The schoolchildren could wait one more day for their grades.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10
Author: icedteainthebag
Word Count: 34,420
Rating: MA
Pairings: Ellen Tigh/Saul Tigh, Laura Roslin/Bill Adama
Warnings: This fic contains graphic physical violence (no blood), sexual situations-both consensual and of dubious consent-and character death. Chapters containing violence, dubcon or death will have warnings in the headers. I'm not going to warn for consensual sex, you should just expect that from me. There are no warnings for Chapter 1.
Summary: Sometimes we make mistakes when we think we're doing the right thing.
Artist: MrsDrJackson
Link to Art: banner can be found here.
Notes: Written for the 2009 bsg_bigbang.
I have an excessive number of amazing people to thank. I'll only put this on the first chapter so you don’t have to read it ten times over. This story was inspired by a drabble I wrote for nnaylime. From 100 words comes 34,000. Who knew?
Thanks to sleepismyfriend for intimidating me into signing up ;). somadanne and dashakay, thank you for your incredible insight and grammar skills. meryl_edan, thank you for pushing me, for helping me keep Laura real, and for enduring bitchfacing. And tjonesy and larsfarm77, you both rock my world, thank you for the beta awesomeness. "This is just bare bones, right? You're not done."
Thanks to my cheerleading section: my FL that supported me greatly. snoopy0917, ddagent and i_am_davnee bore the greatest burdens through this process. Thank you. And a quick shout-out to the bigbang bad girls. ;)
Finally, Pinochet, you are an asshole.
x x x x
New Caprica was dark but rarely silent. The hum of the ship had been replaced by the sounds of life surrounding her-a baby's distant cry, groups of people walking too close to her tent, the thunder rolling across the nearby hill that meant in the morning, she'd be trudging through ankle-deep mud and ruing the day she stepped foot on this miserable, "habitable" wasteland.
Ellen Tigh lay awake on her cot alone and wondered why she wasn't more thankful for the firm ground under her feet.
This being alone thing had not been her plan when it was announced the Fleet would colonize New Caprica. She'd been initially excited about the idea-a place to land, Saul taking a break from Galactica, the two of them shacking up together again like they were college kids. Living it up as much as they could, maybe even enjoying life a little bit together.
Yeah, that didn't happen.
Their first argument had been about going planetside in the first place, even before frakkin' Gaius Baltar won the presidential election. Saul didn't want to live on New Caprica, but gave her an out. He told her to go ahead and settle if she wanted, told her to go ahead and frak around if she wanted.
It wasn't what she wanted at all. All she wanted was him. He never really understood that.
She knew Saul had spent more time in the air than he had on the ground. He was used to being on a ship, day in, day out, not seeing the sun, not feeling the wind on his face.
She wasn't used to it, nor did she want to settle for a life sitting around in the XO's quarters, waiting for him to come home and tell her about his daily adventures in the CIC with his good buddy Bill Adama.
So when people started settling on the planet, she decided to show him he was not going to keep her around as his ship wife anymore. She was never one to be kept.
She'd told Saul her decision to settle and he'd arranged for a tent on the ground, a tent of their own. It wasn't much-canvas and a cot, some blankets and some rugs-but it wasn't a Battlestar. For that, she was fairly happy.
But not completely happy.
The second argument was proving to be the kicker. She'd known it would be when she started in with him, arguing endlessly about taking a break from his XO duties.
Sure, he would come down for a few days at a time, mostly meeting with Galen and Sam about establishing some sort of underground communications…whatever, to keep in touch with Bill, of course. Then he'd come back to the tent and they'd have some dinner, frak, reminisce about old times, and for a few fleeting moments it felt like a real kind of life, a life she could get used to.
And then he'd go back up to the ship, back to being the Admiral's dancing monkey, and she was left alone.
Again.
Nothing ever changed. She didn't know why she tried to convince him, every time he came down to see her, that maybe Bill didn't need him as much as he thought. That the Cylons were gone and everybody was safe. She would try her hardest to keep her tears at bay while she listed all the reasons she needed him more than Bill did. Sometimes she'd even throw in a few implied threats, like how handsome the pyramid players were looking or how the guy from the vegetable cart at the market gave her a once-over that morning while she picked up potatoes.
Those tactics didn't work back on Picon and they weren't working here either. He always left. He was devoted to the ship, devoted to Bill, devoted to his career and all of the exciting things it involved that consequently, didn't involve her at all.
This was not the way she wanted things to be.
The next time Bill came down-when he wasn't busy frakking the ex-President, that is-she and he would have a heart-to-heart talk.
x x x x
When Ellen saw Bill one morning at random in the market, he was looking at a basketful of bread. This didn't surprise her, but made her smile even more than the idea of Bill without Laura around.
That'll make things easier.
"Hey, stranger," she said, walking up to him and putting a hand on his arm.
He turned to her, his look of confusion ebbing into one of restrained greeting. He always regarded her with a sense of incredulity and it pissed her off. "Ellen. It's nice to see you."
"Well, it's nice to see you," she said with a grin. "How's Laura?"
Bill didn't bristle, but she felt the muscle under the sleeve of his jacket tense up. Even though it was safe for Bill and Laura to be together since Laura wasn't President, they seemed to be keeping things on the down low.
It's okay, flyboy. Nobody out here cares who you're frakking.
"She's good," he finally answered.
I'll bet she is.
"Wanted some bread for lunch," he added.
"Oh, and she cooks, too," Ellen teased. "Haven't you found yourself a keeper?"
Maybe she could keep you a little busier.
"She does what she can," he said, giving her a half-smile. He picked up a loaf of bread and tossed a cubit into the basket in front of the vendor with a nod.
"So say we all," Ellen replied with a soft laugh. "Listen, Bill, before you run off to be with your woman, would you mind having a bit of a chat with me in private?"
He looked her over and began to walk. She walked alongside him, waiting for his response.
"What's up?" he asked, tucking the bread between his elbow and waist.
"Is this as private as we're gonna get?" she asked.
"Yes," he responded immediately.
She sighed. No sense in arguing with Bill when he was in one of his difficult moods. She knew he had a tendency to have a one-track mind, and she was fairly certain which track he was cruising on as he wandered back toward Laura's tent.
"Okay. It's about Saul. I want him down here with me."
Bill looked over at her. "You talk to him about this already?"
She nodded, her stomach fluttering. "I did. He won't listen to me. But he'll listen to you."
Bill let out a low chuckle. "Since when?"
They turned down a walkway between mess hall tents, and Ellen was pleased that he'd taken a detour to hear her out. She sighed deeply as she slowed to a stop. He turned to face her, looking amused.
"Listen, Bill, we all know it's pointless to have him up there," she said. "There's nothing for him to do. He's going to drive himself frakkin' nuts. Down here he can have a purpose. Gods know the Colonists need all the help they can get."
"So you think Saul should commit himself to building houses full time? Maybe digging some drainage ditches?"
Ellen let out an exasperated sigh.
Sometimes you are so thick in the head.
"Bill, I'm frakkin' serious." She rolled her eyes. "Please, for once, take me seriously because I think I'm right. Saul needs you to let him go."
Bill's expression changed. She knew that look well. They'd known each other too long for her not to know when Bill Adama was seriously contemplating whether the decision he was about to make was not only right for the individuals involved, but for the entirety of the Fleet.
That was the way Bill always worked. Every whole was the sum of its parts.
"I could use a man on the ground," he said. "Make sure things are running smoothly. That frakker Baltar certainly isn't holding up his end of the bargain."
"People know Saul," she urged. "They like Saul. They can relate to him."
She was laying it on thick.
Think of the people, Bill.
"So you want me to tell him to stay planetside from now on?" Bill asked. "Kick him the hell off my ship?"
She smiled. "You might want to be a little gentler than that."
"What, you think he can't handle a direct order?"
"It'll be hard for him to leave. He loves the ship." He loves you. "It's his life."
"No, Ellen," Bill answered. "You're his life."
"Then tell him he needs to stay down on New Caprica with his wife and start living," she said.
She saw it in his face, if only for an instant-a flash of sadness, maybe regret. He covered it well, quickly looking down at the loaf of bread under his arm. She leaned closer and slid her hand up to his shoulder.
"Maybe we all need to start living a little more, Bill."
He was still for a moment. Then he shrugged and she pulled her hand away.
"I'll talk to Saul."
Ellen stood up straight. "Thank you."
She watched him, his mind somewhere else. Her lips parted to speak.
"I've got to get back," he said. "Don't want to be in the doghouse tonight."
She laughed and swallowed the lump in the back of her throat. "Something tells me the last place a person'd want to be is in Laura Roslin's doghouse."
He looked up at her and smiled. "You have no idea."
x x x x
Two weeks later
Ellen was happy.
She snuggled closer to Saul, running her fingers over the thin cotton covering his chest, drawing circles, tracing patterns. She buried her nose in his neck, relishing the new, earthy smell of him-dirt and sweat from a day's worth of work around the camp. Colonizing was hard work, she’d realized as she watched it from afar. She'd felt out of place when she'd tried to help at first, the stares of others making her blush as she struggled with a shovelful of dirt.
Her skills at construction may have been nil, but there was no way she'd let Saul come home without having some sort of meal on the table, even if it was cold.
And maybe some frakking afterward.
"This is it," she murmured against his skin.
"Hmm," he grumbled, running his finger down her spine.
"This is us," she said, nudging her chin against his shoulder. "What I've always wanted. Right here." She patted his chest once for emphasis.
"Oh yeah?" Saul asked. He sounded tired, but amused. "Cuddled in a shoddy canvas tent for warmth with a belly full of watery soup while the wind whistles through the flaps?"
Ellen grinned and kissed his cheek.
"Sharing a toilet with five hundred other stinking Colonists?" he added.
She laughed and tucked her hand around his torso, pulling herself tightly against him. There were so many things she could say, but when it came to their relationship, they were people of few words. It had often been better that way.
"You and me," she said. "No ship, no Fleet, no crew. No Bill. No distractions."
He hummed in acknowledgment and breathed deeply.
"Do you realize how long it's been since we shared a moment outside of all that?"
He pressed his lips against the top of her head and kissed it. "I don't remember."
"Mmmm." She snuggled into him and wrapped a leg around his thigh. "I don't have to share you now. And it makes me so happy, Saul, even if we are suffering it out on this miserable excuse for a planet."
"It'll get better." His fingers tickled her side and she sighed, her skin tingling under his touch.
"I know," she drawled. "But godsdamn, what I wouldn't give for a pedicure right now."
"Aw, woman. I'm sure you look fine." Saul ran his hand across her hip and cupped her ass through the thick cotton of her nightgown.
And what I wouldn't give for some lingerie.
"I don't know," she teased, feeling a familiar slow burn kindling within her. She snagged his earlobe between her teeth. "There are a few things in a state of disrepair."
"Well," he chuckled, "I'm quite the handyman now."
"Mm-hm." She felt him pushing up the edge of her nightgown, his palm sliding over the bare skin of her thigh. She whimpered into the skin of his neck, encouraging him.
This is home. What it was always meant to be.
Saul shifted and rose over her, elbows planted above her shoulders. She ran her hands up his strong arms, thinner than usual, but bound by muscle. He lowered his face to hers and kissed her.
"I'm gonna check out this state of disrepair," he growled. "See if there's anything I can take care of down there."
"Good hunting, Colonel," she breathed with a smile.
Gods, I love looking into your eyes.
Saul drew the blanket off of her and kissed her neck. She sighed softly as he pushed her nightgown up to graze his teeth along her stomach.
"Did I ever tell you how glad I am I married you?" he teased, planting kisses around her navel.
A familiar line.
An automatic response slipped past her lips. "Not once."
"Oh," he said, kissing along the edge of her underwear. "Well, then, I'll save it for a special occasion."
Shivering first at the night air that caressed her skin, she soon shivered under his mouth and hands. He made her feel like a woman-powerful yet vulnerable, claimed yet free. It had been so long-so damn long-since she'd felt that from him. And longer since she could return that feeling and give herself to him completely.
Finally, it was just the two of them.
x x x x
Laura and Bill had spent a lazy day together. She accepted it without question when he took a few extra days of shore leave, enjoying it as much as she could.
There were times when she wondered what things were so important up on Galactica that he couldn't make more time for her, but then, as usual, she passed off those thoughts.
Be happy with what you have. It's more than what you had before.
The hour grew late and Laura was immersed in reviewing schoolwork. Her job, though usually thankless, provided her with a means to keep making a positive impact on the lives of others.
This was just on a less stressful level.
Most of the time.
Bill had gone out with Saul to have a "strategic meeting" hours before, and she was growing weary of reading papers. She stood up and stretched, then pulled on her sweater and tugged on her boots.
She knew exactly where to find them.
Laura walked the now-navigable maze between the tents to the makeshift bar in the middle of the camp. A strategic meeting with Saul couldn't involve a lot of strategy, because frankly, what was there to strategize about anymore? It did, however, involve a fair amount of drinking and carousing.
She heard Saul's raucous laughter as she approached the bar. The two men were sitting alongside each other, glasses of New Caprican moonshine in their hands.
She was surprised to see Ellen there as well, lounging with her arm across the bar like she owned the place. Laura surmised the Tighs probably did own a chunk of the place, singlehandedly responsible for a large percentage of the moonshine sales.
Community investment. How benevolent of them.
Laura wrapped her arms around her waist, still chilly despite her layers of clothes.
"How's the strategic meeting going?" she asked, walking up behind Bill.
Bill seemed surprised to see her, though not embarrassed to be at the bar.
"Plenty of strategizin' going on tonight!" Saul proclaimed, tilting his glass and tapping it on the bar. "Like how to get ol' Joe here to notice I've been on bingo fuel for half a frakkin' hour."
"Hey," Bill said, sliding his arm around her hips.
She tensed up at first-she wasn't used to publicly displaying their affection, and now on the rare occasions that they let it happen, it still felt inappropriate, even though she knew better. She took a deep breath and relaxed into his arm at the sight of his toothy grin. "We were strategizing," he insisted, a gleam in his eye.
Laura raised her eyebrows and nodded with a smirk.
"They were, I heard them," Ellen piped up from beside Saul. "But they always strategize better with a little alcohol in them. Always have."
Laura looked at Ellen, who was resting her head in her palm. She hummed, then looked back at Bill. It seemed Ellen was also an integral part of the strategic meeting, though she wasn't sure how she fit into the picture.
"How's the grading going?" Bill asked.
"You really haven't lived until you've read twenty-six fifth grade essays on ‘My Favorite God.'"
Bill chuckled and gave her a squeeze through her thick wool sweater. "So who's the overall favorite?"
"Mars. Big surprise, huh?" She tapped her fingers atop the bar, attracting Joe's attention. Joe quickly dropped a tall glass of moonshine in front of her-there was no need to place an order, they only had one type of swill on New Caprica now-much to Saul's irritation as he pushed his still-empty cup away.
"Makes me proud." Bill finished off the rest of his drink.
She examined his profile and wondered what god William Adama would have written about when he was young, a little more idealistic, a lot less war-worn.
"So Saul," Bill said as he stealthily slid his hand under the edge of Laura's sweater. She chuckled as he lightly cupped her ass.
Fine. A little groping won't hurt.
"Yes, sir," Saul barked, a little too cheerfully.
"Do you think the ex-President has a nice ass?" he asked. Laura's lips parted in surprise and she smacked him on the arm hard enough to make him wince.
"You really want me checking out your woman's ass, old man?" Saul said, tilting back a bit to try and see around Bill. "I ain't gotta problem with that, but she might."
Laura rolled her eyes. "I should sit down before you land yourself in more trouble."
Bill chuckled, his palm still pressing into her. "You could have a seat, but the only free chair is over there." Bill nodded in Ellen's direction. "Unless, of course," he added, pulling her closer and nearly into his lap, "you want to sit here."
Laura laughed as she steadied her footing. She ran her fingers over his hand. "Oh, that's all right," she teased, even though she wasn't sure it was fine at all to have to sit next to Ellen. She grabbed her drink. "Would hate to interrupt your strategizin'."
With that, she pried his fingers off her hip and heard him groan as she walked away.
Oh, come on, Bill. You should be used to my teasing by now.
Laura walked over to the seat next to Ellen, who stopped kissing Saul's ear as Laura got comfortable. She took the first sip of her drink and nearly gagged at the pungent fumes that immediately cleared her sinuses.
Ellen turned to Laura with a broad smile. "So, how's it feel to be a military wife?" she asked, taking a sip of her drink.
Laura stared at her for an extended moment.
"I don't think I need to tell you that I'm not anybody's wife."
Ellen leaned closer. "You know what I mean."
Laura took a deep breath through her nose. It never took long for Ellen to get on her nerves. She knew there had to be some other side to this woman, some redeeming qualities, for Saul to love her as much as he did, for Bill to tolerate her so often. It just had yet to be seen.
"Cut the crap, Ellen," Laura said, taking another drink of her caustic beverage.
"Fine." Ellen put her weight on both elbows on the bar, keeping her eyes on Laura. "I'll tell you what. I was so happy when Bill kicked Saul off Galactica and down here with me." Ellen took another drink, seemingly savoring the taste. Laura took another drink and didn't savor it nearly as much. "I was tired of being second to his career."
Laura glanced at Bill and Saul, who were engrossed in conversation.
She knew exactly what Ellen was saying-she'd experienced it in the past, especially with Richard. But this wasn't the time to broach that subject, and definitely not with someone who ran at the mouth like Ellen Tigh did.
"I felt like the other woman to Bill all the time," Ellen said, arching her eyebrow and glancing over at her.
It seemed like Ellen's eyes always sparkled when she knew she had struck a nerve. Laura tried to hide that Ellen's confession had unsettled her, but the warm buzz of the alcohol beginning to pump through her bloodstream made it difficult to hide. "How, exactly?" she asked.
"Those two are like peas in a pod." Ellen shrugged in their direction. "It's all Fleet this, tyllium that, now it's Cylons this and that. I don't think I heard Saul talk about anything but 'frakkin' Cylons' for months when we actually had private time together, which wasn't often enough anyway. Until we came down here."
Laura hummed and took a longer drink. "Isn't that part of the job?" Laura asked. "Didn't you know that going in?"
Laura certainly knew it. She knew better than to expect Bill's undivided attention at most times. There were rare moments in which they were completely attuned to each other-the same moments in which they let themselves go, forgot about who they were and the responsibilities he held, the ones she used to hold-but most other times she could see it in his eyes. Always thinking, always scheming to make things work, to make life better for the Fleet.
She used to be the same way before she lost the election. Now she focused on what she could still control-her work at the school, a few friendships she'd built since being down on the planet. She could make decisions now and nobody's fate hung in the balance but her own.
"You think you know, going in," Ellen said, sighing. "But you also hope that it might change. It never does. Trust me, I've seen it in my marriage, I saw it with Bill and Carolanne-"
"That's none of my business."
Bill rarely talked about his first marriage-nor did she talk about her relationship with Richard-and she felt like if he ever did, then that would be the time for her to know more details. She was a little curious, but at the same time, didn't want to take Ellen's perspective to heart.
Ellen looked at her, a smile playing across her lips. "All of it's your business, Laura. It became your business the minute you two started frakking like teenagers."
Oh, gods.
Laura sucked down the rest of her drink, a hard swallow punctuated with a cough.
"You need to know what you're getting into," Ellen finished.
Feigning a reassuring smile, Laura tapped her empty glass on the bar. "It's been nice talking to you. I need to go grade more essays."
"Just think about it," Ellen said.
"I do," Laura said softly. "I have."
She stood up and pulled her arms behind her back in a stretch as she walked up beside Bill. Her body was heated, the alcohol having taken quick effect. "Hey," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder.
He turned to her and kissed the top of her hand, his lips soft. "You survive the conversation with Ellen?"
She gave him a smile and lowered her head. "I did. Did you strategize?"
"Oh, maybe." Bill kissed her fingers one at a time. "Not sure I want to say what kind of strategizing we were doing."
"Hmm," she teased, his kisses sending a tingle up her arm. "That sounds classified to me."
"I might tell you later on tonight," he said, his voice low. She knew that tone well. It sent a muted flutter of warmth through her abdomen.
"I'm headed back to my tent. More grading to do." She squeezed his shoulder.
"You grading papers liquored up again?"
Laura chuckled. "Maybe it'll numb the pain."
She leaned down to kiss his cheek. His fingers drifted into her hair and he looked into her eyes, his gaze playful. She pressed her mouth onto his ear.
"I'd better see you soon," she murmured. "I need to be briefed on your strategic plans."
"Debriefed, maybe," he said. He copped another feel of her ass and she backed up, giving him a teasing glare.
"Papers," she said firmly.
Back in her tent, she'd barely picked up the next essay to be graded before he was there, kissing her, his hands roaming her body.
The schoolchildren could wait one more day for their grades.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10