Fire On Ice: Chapter 3
Title: Fire On Ice, Chapter 3
Author: michiruwater
Rating: MA
Beta: bsg_aussiegirl
Word Count: 4,961
Chapter Summary: In 1972, Laura and Bill continue to the next steps in securing their Olympics dreams... and in their relationship.
Author's Note: All non-BSG characters (except for Ben the zamboni boy) are real people who were involved in figure skating during the 1972 Olympics.
Chapters 1 and 2 can be found here.
Laura sat between Janet and Saul, and could barely sit still from nerves. The warm-up group was on the ice, and there he was, stroking around, intense concentration on his face. He seemed so much larger than the rest of the men, who were mostly twigs, pure muscle with no body fat. Bill was all muscle, but it was gathered in his arms and chest, tapering to a slim waist, then into powerful thighs. He cut an imposing figure, on and off the ice.
“How do you think he’s doing?” Saul asked.
Just as he asked, Bill popped a triple flip wide open, and she winced. “Not so good, for him,” she admitted. “I hope he pulls it together in the next couple minutes…”
His next attempt was improved, and the crowd cheered. She let out a long breath. “Okay, that’s better,” she said. Janet’s hand suddenly came down on the top of her thigh, and she looked at her teammate before realize that she’d been nervously jiggling the leg.
“Laura,” Janet said, amusement coloring her voice, “relax.”
“Easy for you to say,” Laura muttered. “That’s not your… uh…” she trailed off, coloring deeply as both Saul and Janet looked at her. “Whatever Bill is,” she finished lamely.
“1 minute remaining in warm-up,” came over the loudspeaker. Bill skated over to Richard. They spoke tensely for a couple of seconds before Bill skated back one, doing one last triple-lutz-triple toe. Laura cried out and covered her eyes as he crashed on the triple-toe-loop.
“Shit,” Saul said, “he’s really not looking good out there.”
She’d never seen Bill have such a disastrous warm-up before. The warm-up ended, and he skated over to Richard, glowering. He was the first skater out. Normally he preferred the first spot, but she suspected that, right now, he would prefer to be anywhere else.
“From the United States of America, William Adama!”
She cheered loudly, clapping harshly, hoping her enthusiasm might wipe some of the anxiety off his face. He took a long time skating slowly to his starting spot, and she reached down to clench Saul’s right hand hard. “Oh, God, please don’t let him bomb,” she whispered.
Bill struck his starting position. The crowd was silent during the tense millisecond before the strains of Holst’s Jupiter filled the room, and Bill took off.
His first jump was the triple-lutz-triple-toe-loop he’d just fallen on. She knew his program like the back of her hand. She leaned forward as he approached the right area, as he prepped the jump, and her body moved sympathetically with him as his toe pick hit the ice, and up he went.
Three rotations, clean landing edge, toe pick, three rotations - clean! He skated a curve out of the combination, and the crowd roared, Americans waving flags. But that was only the first jump.
She heard Saul breathe out next to her, but she still couldn’t relax. A double-axel-triple-toe was next.
Clean.
The flip. Once he got through the flip - two jumps away - she would relax. For now, he moved into a flying sit spin, and she settled back. Janet’s hand was on her thigh again, trying to keep her from shaking. His spins weren’t great. They got the job done, but there was very little beauty to them. “Your guy’s a great jumper,” Janet said into her ear. “I just wish he could express the music.”
Laura didn’t answer, because she didn’t agree. Bill never skated for the crowd. He skated for himself, for the feel of the ice, for the feel of his body leaping through the air. The music mattered, but only if you knew him well enough to see the way it changed the most subtle things about him, the way it fired him up on the ice. She suspected only she and Richard could really see Bill’s peculiar means of expression.
Two more jumps completed. He was skating better than she’d dreamed after that disastrous warm-up. Triple flip next. She saw him breathe, felt the tension in the air as he approached the jump - and his edge slid out from under him. She squeaked, her hands covering her eyes as his ass hit the ice and the crowd gasped.
“Oh, God, I’m going to vomit,” she muttered. “I can’t watch this anymore.”
“Just relax, Laura,” Saul said into her ear. “He’s back up. He looks determined. He’s nearly done jumping, anyway, it might be okay.”
When another few seconds went by, and the crowd cheered suddenly, she lowered her hands and opened her eyes to see him skating cleanly out of his second double axel, arms wide, that cocky grin she loved so much firmly in place. One more jump - triple salchow - clean.
The rest of the program went well. Footwork, a combination spin. At the end, the crowd cheered. It wasn’t a bad skate overall, and it was very likely enough for a medal.
She knew he was probably pissed at himself.
*******
30 minutes until his warm-up group was on the ice. Bill was stretching by the locker room, surrounded by skaters in equal stages of preparation, by coaches running around, when Richard approached him. He smiled at the man, but was surprised by the angry look on Richard’s face. “Bill,” Richard greeted. “I think we need to talk.”
They went to the locker room, to an empty area, and Bill sat on the bench as Richard stood in front of him, tapping one foot. “Laura didn’t come back to her room last night,” he said.
“No,” Bill said. “She was with me.”
The two men stared at each other a long moment, before Richard sighed, shaking his head. “Listen, Bill, you’re a nice guy,” he said. “Really. And a good skater. I’ve been privileged to be your coach. However,” he continued, “I would never grant you permission to date my daughter.”
Bill was completely shocked. “Permission?” he asked. “She’s 20 years old, Richard. I didn’t realize I needed to ask your permission.”
“Yes, well, that’s part of the problem, isn’t it?” Richard said, his eyes narrowing. “I may not be her biological father, but I have raised her since she was 9, Bill, and I am not about to let her date some hotshot skater who’s screwed half the girls at her home rink.”
“I haven’t dated anyone there in over two years, and you know that.”
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you acted, though, Bill. Not for a second. Broken hearts everywhere, I’m sure it was nicely dramatic for a young man, but I am not about to let you even think about touching her. Do you understand me?”
Bill stood, abruptly, fury emanating through him. “I am not doing this right now,” he hissed. “I am going out there, and I am skating, and when I am done, I am going to let Laura decide whom she will and will not date. Because I respect her enough for that.”
He blustered past Richard, back out past the locker room, where he furiously continued his stretching. 20 minutes until his warm-up group was on the ice.
*******
The bronze medal wasn’t bad. It was a medal, at least. 2nd place in the freeskate, 3rd in the figures, a couple 5.8s for technical content. Really, it was a good competition, Bill thought, as he wrapped the American flag around himself and remembered to wave to the crowd.
Stupid fucking triple flip.
Stupid fucking Richard Adar. He wanted to fire him so badly, but if he fired him he wasn’t sure what he would do about the World Championships in a month, and it would make seeing Laura harder.
Even as he thought it, he saw her in the crowd, standing, cheering next to Saul, and his heart lifted. She looked beautiful. She always looked beautiful. He raised a hand to her, and then cringed when the crowd noticed and cheered more loudly. Laura laughed, brightly, and then stepped into the aisle. The crowd parted as she made her way down, and then disappeared through an exit before reappearing on the ground floor, accompanied by two of the ushers, who watched with small smiles on their face as she ran up to the boards. He skated over to her, feeling self-conscious amongst all the scrutiny, but as he neared her the glow on her face erased his doubts, and he leaned over to gather her into a bear hug.
“Good job!” she whispered into his ear. He pulled back, and she reached out to grasp his medal, a saucy look coming over her face. “Looks good on you,” she said with a wink.
He grinned. “Thanks.”
“I’ll wait for you by the locker rooms. Finish your victory lap. Go!” she said, waving her arms in the direction of the ice when he opened his mouth, and he chuckled before doing as directed, watching her disappear out the exit again.
Richard was glaring at him from the boards. Bill lifted his flowers and waved at him in response, and his coach crossed his arms, raising his chin as though to say challenge accepted.
Bill loved a good fight.
*******
Celebrations were mostly postponed as the team readied for Laura’s long program the following day. Laura herself seemed less nervous than he had expected, but when he asked her about it, she shrugged adorably. “I was worried about the figures,” she said. “Tomorrow I just want to have fun.”
“So I don’t need to come cure you of the giggles tomorrow?”
She giggled at that, and he smiled. She reached over, fingering the bronze medal he still wore, and over her head he could see Richard watching them with a frown on his face. “I feel pretty confident,” she admitted. “I think I’m actually going to win this, Bill, but don’t tell anyone else!”
He slipped an arm around her waist, dropping a kiss to her hair, holding Richard’s gaze the whole time. “Your secret’s safe with me,” he whispered.
He had another press conference later that day, which went mostly the way his previous press conferences had all gone, though Laura went with him and tried to mime suggestions to him. He was embarrassed by his reticence in front of the camera, but she just laughed when he told her. He was surprised to note that Richard hadn’t yet ordered her away from him. He seemed reluctant to force this from that angle… which meant that Bill’s refusal to follow orders was probably driving him crazy.
Good.
Bill had never liked Richard. He’d picked him as his coach because he was good at it, and because Richard had promised to not try to turn Bill into something he wasn’t on the ice. But there was something smarmy about the man. Figure skating was 50% politics. Everyone on this inside knew this. Richard was a good politician - and so, for that matter, was Laura. Bill was a terrible politician. This suited him just fine.
She called him that night, around 10. “Richard ordered me to stay here. I swear he’s standing guard. Said he wants to make sure I’m well-rested.” She sounded pissed off.
“Want me to come rescue you?”
“My hero,” she drawled. “He has to go to sleep at some point, right?” She sighed. “I never sleep at competitions,” she admitted in a small voice. “I get too anxious. But I did, last night. With you.”
And that was the moment when Bill Adama was finally completely, deeply sure that he was in love with her. He swallowed, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. “I’m glad,” he managed, eventually, and he thought he heard her hum over the phone. “I’ll be here. If you can make it, you’re always welcome in my bed.”
This time he knew that was her hum. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said.
30 minutes later, he breathed in the scent of her as she fell to sleep next to him, the Olympic medal he’d just won already forgotten in relation to the treasure nestled in his arms.
*******
When Laura stepped on to the ice with the rest of her warm-up group, the crowd went wild. She ignored them, stroking around the rink quickly, gaining speed, letting her muscles loosen up. Saul was next to him. Bill was nervous. He couldn’t help it. But she seemed calmed, relaxed, focused, as she made easy laps around the rink and then went into a layback spin, hitting the beautiful position he was convinced was unique only to her. She was the overwhelming favorite at this point, and all eyes were on her.
“Glad I never had to deal with this bullshit,” Saul commented, looking around at the cheering crowd. “No one gives a shit when Ellen and I are on the ice.”
Saul’s prediction had come true - he and Ellen had placed 12th in both the short and long program, a fair distance from the podium. Bill grunted in acknowledgement. “I hate what little attention I get. I don’t know how she does it.”
Saul shrugged, and then gave him a shifty look. “You two sleeping together yet?”
Bill paused, a slow grin coming over his face. “Yeah. Sleeping. Not sleeping.”
Saul stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “You’re shitting me.”
“No.”
“Fuck, Bill,” he said. “You had that woman next to you in your damned bed and all you did was sleep? If it was me-“
“You might wanna hold that thought, friend.”
Saul chuckled. “Pussy-whipped, Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath. On the ice, Laura executed a flawless triple salchow. Her technical content was far and away the most difficult - she had three consistent triples, and she planned on using all three of them. The crowd cheered loudly as she skated over to Richard, who had an intense air of concentration about him. Bill felt his features shift into more of a grimace, unable to help himself.
“What’s that look for?”
Bill shrugged, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Adar forbade me from dating Laura.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Yesterday, right before the freeskate, actually.”
Saul’s eyes widened. “So that’s why you had a shitty free? Because of that fucking asshole?”
Bill had tried to tell himself that that wasn’t the reason. He wanted to take full responsibility for his own mistakes. But part of him knew, even if he tried to kid himself, that Richard had screwed him up mentally with that ridiculous speech. Some fucking coach. “I don’t know,” he said. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“Hopefully he doesn’t say something shitty to her right now.”
“He won’t,” Bill said confidently. Richard wasn’t going to let anything stop Laura from winning tonight.
The warm-up ended, and as Laura exited she turned and scanned the stands. He knew she was looking for him, and when her eyes found him he saw her face break into a smile. He smiled back, feeling giddy. That beautiful woman right there wanted him. It made no sense at all, but he was damned glad of it.
Schuba had a terrible free program. He’d fully expected her to, but even as such he was surprised by precisely how boring she was on the ice. It was like watching paint dry. Janet, on the other hand, was beautiful. She fell on her flying sit, but other than that she was glorious, and the Japanese crowd went wild for her. He stood and clapped as well. It was always great to see an American teammate skate well.
By the time Laura took the ice, it was clearer than ever that this was hers to lose. Even with that atrocious free program, Schuba was in 1st place with her figures score. Laura could fall 3 times and probably still pull out a win. She could leave out all her planned triples and still win.
He knew she would do neither.
“From the United States of America, please welcome Laura Roslin!”
The crowd went nuts. Saul nudged him, but Bill ignored him. He was afraid that if he took his eyes off her for a second, something would go wrong. She appeared to have none of his fears, though; she skated to center ice, waving with both hands, a huge smile on her face. He saw her let out a breath, still smiling, and relaxed entirely. She had this.
She moved into her starting pose, closed her eyes, and waited. Then Firebird started, and she began to move. Laura was everything on the ice Bill wasn’t; refined, elegant, beautiful, and artistic. Dick Button had said once that you could take a picture of her in any part of the program and her body would be hitting a beautiful position.
It was true. The crowd fell utterly silent, only waking up from its spell when she landed her jumps. Double axel. Triple salchow. Triple toe-double toe. Triple loop. Double lutz. Double flip. One after the other, paced throughout the program, right in time with the music. And when she hit her layback, that exquisite position that had graced the covers of several magazines in the past, the crowd roared again.
In the last 30 seconds, as she completed her footwork and it became evident that they had just witnessed something miraculous, the crowd began to surge to its feet, cheering her on through her entire last combination spin until she finished, perfectly on time, and pumped both her fists into the air before bursting into tears.
*******
The knock on his door woke him slowly, and he raised his head to glance at the clock. 1:24 AM? He blinked sleep blearily from his eyes as he yawned and stumbled over to the door, which he opened without a second thought.
Laura. He’d barely had time to see her after her victory. She’d stood tall and obviously elated on top of the podium, and at the end of her victory lap had skated up to one of the judges. Once they’d handed her the microphone, she had tearfully asked for a moment of silence for the victims of the plane crash that had taken her family’s lives 11 years earlier, and had dedicated her medal to their legacy. The crowd had surged to its feet again, and Bill had felt insanely proud of her - and, per usual, amazed at precisely how well she controlled the media’s perception of her.
After the medal ceremony she’d been rushed from one press conference to another, Richard shuffling her everywhere. Once 11 PM had rolled around, he’d asked Deborah to tell Laura congratulations from him, and that he would see her the next day. He hadn’t expected her to come see him.
She looked tired but bright-eyed, and she wore her medal around her neck. He stepped out and wrapped her in a tight hug, and she rested her head on his broad chest gratefully. “I wanted to get here earlier,” she said, “but there was just so much going on and every time I tried to get away Richard would drag me to the next place. It was insane, Bill, and I have interviews starting at 7 AM tomorrow, and I think I’m too keyed up to sleep.”
“You think that now,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Wait until you lie down. Come on.”
She pouted as he pulled her in, and he thought it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “But I promised you that after I won-“
“Yes, and that will happen, Laura,” he said with a lopsided grin. She giggled. “But right now you need sleep. Come on.”
She was still in her dress clothes from the many pictures she’d taken earlier with her medal. He helped her undress, not too tired to appreciate how she looked in her underwear, but not quite awake enough to do anything about it. He passed her one of his extra shirts and slid under the covers, pulling her against him when she joined him shortly after. “Congratulations, by the way,” he said drowsily into her hair.
She giggled sleepily. “Thanks.”
*******
He blinked blearily as he came to sometime in the night. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was around 3 AM, and he sighed, before he recognized the feeling of a warm body against his, and looked down to find Laura pressed against him, her arms wrapped around his waist. Her hair fanned out across the pillow they were sharing. She was asleep.
He had to remind himself to breathe, as he reached up to push some strands of hair off her face, running the back of his fingers along her smooth, pale cheek. She screwed up her nose, and then, adorably, yawned, her eyes fluttering open slowly. She looked confused for a moment, so he repeated the motion, and when her eyes met his a sleepy smile spread across her face. “Hey, you.”
“Hey yourself,” he said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her more tightly into him. She hummed and turned her head to press her lips lightly against his.
“What time is it?”
“Early. We have a couple more hours to sleep.”
She raised an eyebrow, pulling away slightly to lean over him on her elbow. “Sleep sounds good,” she murmured. “I can think of something else to do, though.”
He grinned, before flipping her onto her back. She giggled as he loomed over her, grasping her hands and pressing them over her head. “Something else, eh?” he mused, his lips hovering above hers.
“Uh-huh,” she breathed, before leaning up to capture his open mouth with hers.
He kissed her sweetly at first, but when she lightly bit his lower lip, and then soothed it with her tongue, he shuddered and moaned into her mouth. He slid his tongue in, tangling it with hers, and then stroked along the roof of her mouth. She trembled against him.
They continued to kiss for a while, and he felt the haze of arousal begin to settle around him. He pulled away, pressing messy kisses to her face, her neck, biting her earlobe. She let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a giggle. She was smiling at him, and he smiled back. “Have you done this before?” he asked.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “What?” she asked, amused, and he felt himself blush.
“I just- I need to know.”
She chuckled. “Yes, Bill, I’ve done this before.”
He was unprepared for the sudden surge of emotion he felt at her admission. “Really?” he asked, unable to mask his surprise. “When? With who?”
“Whom,” she corrected, the smile falling off her face as she tilted her head. “Are you jealous, Mr. Adama?”
He frowned, not looking at her. “Of course not,” he said, but it sounded weak, and he knew it.
She giggled. “You are. I never would have imagined…”
He glared at her, letting go of her hands and sitting up. He ran a hand through his dark hair, berating himself internally for his irrational feelings. She sat up as well, looking exasperated.
“Jesus, Bill,” she said, scooting over to him and wrapping her arms around his waist again. She nipped at his chin reproachfully, but her eyes were more than a little worried. “I was 16,” she explained. “You’d only recently arrived. I still thought you were a total ass, and I’m sure you thought I was a spoiled little rich diva girl.” He opened his mouth to protest, and then closed it again. “Thought so,” she said, amused again. “I was pissed at Richard. I think I thought I was getting back at him. Anyway, it was just once, it was terrible, and it has no bearing on this.”
He looked at her in confusion. “How would having sex be getting back at Richard?”
“It wasn’t the act, it was who,” she said, blushing. “It was Ben,” she continued, quietly.
“Ben?” he said, before his eyes widened. “Ben the zamboni boy?”
“Yes, well, at the time I didn’t realize ‘zamboni boy’ apparently capped out his career aspirations,” she said, turning a brighter shade of red. “Anyway, you know what a snob Richard can be.”
Did he ever. He sighed, pulling her into his embrace again. He dropped a kiss on top of her head. “I’m sorry,” he said.
She hummed again. “Does this mean we get to go through your entire sexual history?” she teased.
He stiffened. “I really hope not.”
Laura laughed, leaning back, her arms around his neck. “I don’t care what you did before,” she said, cupping his chin. “All that matters is that we’re here, right now. I don’t ever want to be anywhere else.”
He kissed her, then. How could he not? It started out heated and grew progressively more so, as she lay back, and he followed her. She moved to her side, and he positioned himself next to her, winding his free hand into her hair first to pull it aside. She arched her back, and he latched onto her neck, sucking at her collarbone where the wide neck of his shirt revealed it, then laving her skin to where shoulder meets neck. She whimpered when he sucked her earlobe into his mouth, so he did it again.
Her hands fumbled at the bottom of his shirt, and he sat up to take it off. Laura took in his athletic body with appreciation, running her hands over the washboard abs that years of skating had created, up over his strong shoulders and down his arms. “Nice,” she murmured before kissing him again.
“Off,” he ordered, between kisses, as he tugged at her own shirt. She giggled, but helped him yank it off. He’d forgotten that she was bare-chested under it, and several silent seconds passed as he stared at her in frank amazement. Holy shit she was beautiful. Then he leaned in, kissing her again and sliding his hands up her stomach to cup her breasts.
She moaned into his mouth, and the sound turned him rock hard in seconds. He moved against her, reaching across to push her underwear down. She helped him, kicking it off and molding into him again as he struggled with his own boxers.
“You need to give me a little room here, Laura,” he protested as she tried to throw a leg across his hip. She laughed then, hurriedly helping him shuck them off.
Then it was just skin-on-skin. She threw her leg over his hip again, and he helped her, moving her onto her back. He unlatched his mouth from hers for a second to rest against her, meeting her eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he told her, and she blushed brightly, eyes shining.
“You’re not bad yourself,” she murmured with a smile. She wound her arms around his shoulder, pressing kisses everywhere she could reach. “I want you,” she whispered into his ear, reaching between them to grasp his length and position it at her entrance.
“Yes,” he agreed, surging forward.
Laura had expected some discomfort, considering it had been 4 years since she’d done this once before, but that sensation paled entirely to the painfully perfect look on Bill’s face as he entered her. His mouth pursed in a look of amazement, his eyes closed as he breathed hard, and began to thrust in earnest.
The discomfort faded quickly, and the overwhelming, heady sensation of him took over her. She wrapped both legs around him, eyes fluttering closed. “Move with me, Laura,” he said, grasping her hip and showing her what to do. She fell into the rhythm easily, and with the rhythm came new, exquisite sensations.
“Oh, my God,” she said, biting her lip as he moved in and out of her.
“Yeah, baby,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss her hungrily.
She could feel an orgasm building, just out of reach but growing stronger. It felt so different from the ones she’d given herself over the years, and she began to undulate against him faster as she felt it. Sensing where she was, he reached between them, stroking her clitoris in time with his thrusts, and the orgasm washed over her. She gasped, her back arching and then stilling as she shuddered. He kissed her neck, her chin, her cheeks as she came down - but not very far down, because he was still thrusting, still working in her.
“I hope you can do that again, baby,” he whispered in her ear. She giggled breathlessly, looking up at him with such love it took his breath away.
He paused to hike her legs up higher, over his shoulders. It was an easy position for someone with her flexibility. Then he began to thrust faster, harder, and her head snapped back into the pillow as she released a loud cry -then several more as he continued.
It was building again, much faster, sharper and sweeter, and she called his name hoarsely as she came a second time. She felt him lose his rhythm, jerking into her a couple times, and watched in wonder as he came inside of her.
He collapsed next to her a few seconds later, pulling her tightly to him and feathering kisses along her face and upper body. Laura smiled happily, running her hands through his hair. “That was wonderful, Bill,” she said, surprised at how ragged her voice was. He grinned at her with the same cocky expression that accompanied most of his free programs - but this time it was softened by the look in his eye.
“What time is it?” she asked, yawning as she settled her head on his shoulder.
“3:30,” he said, looking at the clock behind her.
“Okay. I’ll see you in a couple hours,” she whispered, falling back asleep. He joined her shortly thereafter.
Author: michiruwater
Rating: MA
Beta: bsg_aussiegirl
Word Count: 4,961
Chapter Summary: In 1972, Laura and Bill continue to the next steps in securing their Olympics dreams... and in their relationship.
Author's Note: All non-BSG characters (except for Ben the zamboni boy) are real people who were involved in figure skating during the 1972 Olympics.
Chapters 1 and 2 can be found here.
Laura sat between Janet and Saul, and could barely sit still from nerves. The warm-up group was on the ice, and there he was, stroking around, intense concentration on his face. He seemed so much larger than the rest of the men, who were mostly twigs, pure muscle with no body fat. Bill was all muscle, but it was gathered in his arms and chest, tapering to a slim waist, then into powerful thighs. He cut an imposing figure, on and off the ice.
“How do you think he’s doing?” Saul asked.
Just as he asked, Bill popped a triple flip wide open, and she winced. “Not so good, for him,” she admitted. “I hope he pulls it together in the next couple minutes…”
His next attempt was improved, and the crowd cheered. She let out a long breath. “Okay, that’s better,” she said. Janet’s hand suddenly came down on the top of her thigh, and she looked at her teammate before realize that she’d been nervously jiggling the leg.
“Laura,” Janet said, amusement coloring her voice, “relax.”
“Easy for you to say,” Laura muttered. “That’s not your… uh…” she trailed off, coloring deeply as both Saul and Janet looked at her. “Whatever Bill is,” she finished lamely.
“1 minute remaining in warm-up,” came over the loudspeaker. Bill skated over to Richard. They spoke tensely for a couple of seconds before Bill skated back one, doing one last triple-lutz-triple toe. Laura cried out and covered her eyes as he crashed on the triple-toe-loop.
“Shit,” Saul said, “he’s really not looking good out there.”
She’d never seen Bill have such a disastrous warm-up before. The warm-up ended, and he skated over to Richard, glowering. He was the first skater out. Normally he preferred the first spot, but she suspected that, right now, he would prefer to be anywhere else.
“From the United States of America, William Adama!”
She cheered loudly, clapping harshly, hoping her enthusiasm might wipe some of the anxiety off his face. He took a long time skating slowly to his starting spot, and she reached down to clench Saul’s right hand hard. “Oh, God, please don’t let him bomb,” she whispered.
Bill struck his starting position. The crowd was silent during the tense millisecond before the strains of Holst’s Jupiter filled the room, and Bill took off.
His first jump was the triple-lutz-triple-toe-loop he’d just fallen on. She knew his program like the back of her hand. She leaned forward as he approached the right area, as he prepped the jump, and her body moved sympathetically with him as his toe pick hit the ice, and up he went.
Three rotations, clean landing edge, toe pick, three rotations - clean! He skated a curve out of the combination, and the crowd roared, Americans waving flags. But that was only the first jump.
She heard Saul breathe out next to her, but she still couldn’t relax. A double-axel-triple-toe was next.
Clean.
The flip. Once he got through the flip - two jumps away - she would relax. For now, he moved into a flying sit spin, and she settled back. Janet’s hand was on her thigh again, trying to keep her from shaking. His spins weren’t great. They got the job done, but there was very little beauty to them. “Your guy’s a great jumper,” Janet said into her ear. “I just wish he could express the music.”
Laura didn’t answer, because she didn’t agree. Bill never skated for the crowd. He skated for himself, for the feel of the ice, for the feel of his body leaping through the air. The music mattered, but only if you knew him well enough to see the way it changed the most subtle things about him, the way it fired him up on the ice. She suspected only she and Richard could really see Bill’s peculiar means of expression.
Two more jumps completed. He was skating better than she’d dreamed after that disastrous warm-up. Triple flip next. She saw him breathe, felt the tension in the air as he approached the jump - and his edge slid out from under him. She squeaked, her hands covering her eyes as his ass hit the ice and the crowd gasped.
“Oh, God, I’m going to vomit,” she muttered. “I can’t watch this anymore.”
“Just relax, Laura,” Saul said into her ear. “He’s back up. He looks determined. He’s nearly done jumping, anyway, it might be okay.”
When another few seconds went by, and the crowd cheered suddenly, she lowered her hands and opened her eyes to see him skating cleanly out of his second double axel, arms wide, that cocky grin she loved so much firmly in place. One more jump - triple salchow - clean.
The rest of the program went well. Footwork, a combination spin. At the end, the crowd cheered. It wasn’t a bad skate overall, and it was very likely enough for a medal.
She knew he was probably pissed at himself.
*******
30 minutes until his warm-up group was on the ice. Bill was stretching by the locker room, surrounded by skaters in equal stages of preparation, by coaches running around, when Richard approached him. He smiled at the man, but was surprised by the angry look on Richard’s face. “Bill,” Richard greeted. “I think we need to talk.”
They went to the locker room, to an empty area, and Bill sat on the bench as Richard stood in front of him, tapping one foot. “Laura didn’t come back to her room last night,” he said.
“No,” Bill said. “She was with me.”
The two men stared at each other a long moment, before Richard sighed, shaking his head. “Listen, Bill, you’re a nice guy,” he said. “Really. And a good skater. I’ve been privileged to be your coach. However,” he continued, “I would never grant you permission to date my daughter.”
Bill was completely shocked. “Permission?” he asked. “She’s 20 years old, Richard. I didn’t realize I needed to ask your permission.”
“Yes, well, that’s part of the problem, isn’t it?” Richard said, his eyes narrowing. “I may not be her biological father, but I have raised her since she was 9, Bill, and I am not about to let her date some hotshot skater who’s screwed half the girls at her home rink.”
“I haven’t dated anyone there in over two years, and you know that.”
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you acted, though, Bill. Not for a second. Broken hearts everywhere, I’m sure it was nicely dramatic for a young man, but I am not about to let you even think about touching her. Do you understand me?”
Bill stood, abruptly, fury emanating through him. “I am not doing this right now,” he hissed. “I am going out there, and I am skating, and when I am done, I am going to let Laura decide whom she will and will not date. Because I respect her enough for that.”
He blustered past Richard, back out past the locker room, where he furiously continued his stretching. 20 minutes until his warm-up group was on the ice.
*******
The bronze medal wasn’t bad. It was a medal, at least. 2nd place in the freeskate, 3rd in the figures, a couple 5.8s for technical content. Really, it was a good competition, Bill thought, as he wrapped the American flag around himself and remembered to wave to the crowd.
Stupid fucking triple flip.
Stupid fucking Richard Adar. He wanted to fire him so badly, but if he fired him he wasn’t sure what he would do about the World Championships in a month, and it would make seeing Laura harder.
Even as he thought it, he saw her in the crowd, standing, cheering next to Saul, and his heart lifted. She looked beautiful. She always looked beautiful. He raised a hand to her, and then cringed when the crowd noticed and cheered more loudly. Laura laughed, brightly, and then stepped into the aisle. The crowd parted as she made her way down, and then disappeared through an exit before reappearing on the ground floor, accompanied by two of the ushers, who watched with small smiles on their face as she ran up to the boards. He skated over to her, feeling self-conscious amongst all the scrutiny, but as he neared her the glow on her face erased his doubts, and he leaned over to gather her into a bear hug.
“Good job!” she whispered into his ear. He pulled back, and she reached out to grasp his medal, a saucy look coming over her face. “Looks good on you,” she said with a wink.
He grinned. “Thanks.”
“I’ll wait for you by the locker rooms. Finish your victory lap. Go!” she said, waving her arms in the direction of the ice when he opened his mouth, and he chuckled before doing as directed, watching her disappear out the exit again.
Richard was glaring at him from the boards. Bill lifted his flowers and waved at him in response, and his coach crossed his arms, raising his chin as though to say challenge accepted.
Bill loved a good fight.
*******
Celebrations were mostly postponed as the team readied for Laura’s long program the following day. Laura herself seemed less nervous than he had expected, but when he asked her about it, she shrugged adorably. “I was worried about the figures,” she said. “Tomorrow I just want to have fun.”
“So I don’t need to come cure you of the giggles tomorrow?”
She giggled at that, and he smiled. She reached over, fingering the bronze medal he still wore, and over her head he could see Richard watching them with a frown on his face. “I feel pretty confident,” she admitted. “I think I’m actually going to win this, Bill, but don’t tell anyone else!”
He slipped an arm around her waist, dropping a kiss to her hair, holding Richard’s gaze the whole time. “Your secret’s safe with me,” he whispered.
He had another press conference later that day, which went mostly the way his previous press conferences had all gone, though Laura went with him and tried to mime suggestions to him. He was embarrassed by his reticence in front of the camera, but she just laughed when he told her. He was surprised to note that Richard hadn’t yet ordered her away from him. He seemed reluctant to force this from that angle… which meant that Bill’s refusal to follow orders was probably driving him crazy.
Good.
Bill had never liked Richard. He’d picked him as his coach because he was good at it, and because Richard had promised to not try to turn Bill into something he wasn’t on the ice. But there was something smarmy about the man. Figure skating was 50% politics. Everyone on this inside knew this. Richard was a good politician - and so, for that matter, was Laura. Bill was a terrible politician. This suited him just fine.
She called him that night, around 10. “Richard ordered me to stay here. I swear he’s standing guard. Said he wants to make sure I’m well-rested.” She sounded pissed off.
“Want me to come rescue you?”
“My hero,” she drawled. “He has to go to sleep at some point, right?” She sighed. “I never sleep at competitions,” she admitted in a small voice. “I get too anxious. But I did, last night. With you.”
And that was the moment when Bill Adama was finally completely, deeply sure that he was in love with her. He swallowed, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. “I’m glad,” he managed, eventually, and he thought he heard her hum over the phone. “I’ll be here. If you can make it, you’re always welcome in my bed.”
This time he knew that was her hum. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said.
30 minutes later, he breathed in the scent of her as she fell to sleep next to him, the Olympic medal he’d just won already forgotten in relation to the treasure nestled in his arms.
*******
When Laura stepped on to the ice with the rest of her warm-up group, the crowd went wild. She ignored them, stroking around the rink quickly, gaining speed, letting her muscles loosen up. Saul was next to him. Bill was nervous. He couldn’t help it. But she seemed calmed, relaxed, focused, as she made easy laps around the rink and then went into a layback spin, hitting the beautiful position he was convinced was unique only to her. She was the overwhelming favorite at this point, and all eyes were on her.
“Glad I never had to deal with this bullshit,” Saul commented, looking around at the cheering crowd. “No one gives a shit when Ellen and I are on the ice.”
Saul’s prediction had come true - he and Ellen had placed 12th in both the short and long program, a fair distance from the podium. Bill grunted in acknowledgement. “I hate what little attention I get. I don’t know how she does it.”
Saul shrugged, and then gave him a shifty look. “You two sleeping together yet?”
Bill paused, a slow grin coming over his face. “Yeah. Sleeping. Not sleeping.”
Saul stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “You’re shitting me.”
“No.”
“Fuck, Bill,” he said. “You had that woman next to you in your damned bed and all you did was sleep? If it was me-“
“You might wanna hold that thought, friend.”
Saul chuckled. “Pussy-whipped, Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath. On the ice, Laura executed a flawless triple salchow. Her technical content was far and away the most difficult - she had three consistent triples, and she planned on using all three of them. The crowd cheered loudly as she skated over to Richard, who had an intense air of concentration about him. Bill felt his features shift into more of a grimace, unable to help himself.
“What’s that look for?”
Bill shrugged, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Adar forbade me from dating Laura.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Yesterday, right before the freeskate, actually.”
Saul’s eyes widened. “So that’s why you had a shitty free? Because of that fucking asshole?”
Bill had tried to tell himself that that wasn’t the reason. He wanted to take full responsibility for his own mistakes. But part of him knew, even if he tried to kid himself, that Richard had screwed him up mentally with that ridiculous speech. Some fucking coach. “I don’t know,” he said. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“Hopefully he doesn’t say something shitty to her right now.”
“He won’t,” Bill said confidently. Richard wasn’t going to let anything stop Laura from winning tonight.
The warm-up ended, and as Laura exited she turned and scanned the stands. He knew she was looking for him, and when her eyes found him he saw her face break into a smile. He smiled back, feeling giddy. That beautiful woman right there wanted him. It made no sense at all, but he was damned glad of it.
Schuba had a terrible free program. He’d fully expected her to, but even as such he was surprised by precisely how boring she was on the ice. It was like watching paint dry. Janet, on the other hand, was beautiful. She fell on her flying sit, but other than that she was glorious, and the Japanese crowd went wild for her. He stood and clapped as well. It was always great to see an American teammate skate well.
By the time Laura took the ice, it was clearer than ever that this was hers to lose. Even with that atrocious free program, Schuba was in 1st place with her figures score. Laura could fall 3 times and probably still pull out a win. She could leave out all her planned triples and still win.
He knew she would do neither.
“From the United States of America, please welcome Laura Roslin!”
The crowd went nuts. Saul nudged him, but Bill ignored him. He was afraid that if he took his eyes off her for a second, something would go wrong. She appeared to have none of his fears, though; she skated to center ice, waving with both hands, a huge smile on her face. He saw her let out a breath, still smiling, and relaxed entirely. She had this.
She moved into her starting pose, closed her eyes, and waited. Then Firebird started, and she began to move. Laura was everything on the ice Bill wasn’t; refined, elegant, beautiful, and artistic. Dick Button had said once that you could take a picture of her in any part of the program and her body would be hitting a beautiful position.
It was true. The crowd fell utterly silent, only waking up from its spell when she landed her jumps. Double axel. Triple salchow. Triple toe-double toe. Triple loop. Double lutz. Double flip. One after the other, paced throughout the program, right in time with the music. And when she hit her layback, that exquisite position that had graced the covers of several magazines in the past, the crowd roared again.
In the last 30 seconds, as she completed her footwork and it became evident that they had just witnessed something miraculous, the crowd began to surge to its feet, cheering her on through her entire last combination spin until she finished, perfectly on time, and pumped both her fists into the air before bursting into tears.
*******
The knock on his door woke him slowly, and he raised his head to glance at the clock. 1:24 AM? He blinked sleep blearily from his eyes as he yawned and stumbled over to the door, which he opened without a second thought.
Laura. He’d barely had time to see her after her victory. She’d stood tall and obviously elated on top of the podium, and at the end of her victory lap had skated up to one of the judges. Once they’d handed her the microphone, she had tearfully asked for a moment of silence for the victims of the plane crash that had taken her family’s lives 11 years earlier, and had dedicated her medal to their legacy. The crowd had surged to its feet again, and Bill had felt insanely proud of her - and, per usual, amazed at precisely how well she controlled the media’s perception of her.
After the medal ceremony she’d been rushed from one press conference to another, Richard shuffling her everywhere. Once 11 PM had rolled around, he’d asked Deborah to tell Laura congratulations from him, and that he would see her the next day. He hadn’t expected her to come see him.
She looked tired but bright-eyed, and she wore her medal around her neck. He stepped out and wrapped her in a tight hug, and she rested her head on his broad chest gratefully. “I wanted to get here earlier,” she said, “but there was just so much going on and every time I tried to get away Richard would drag me to the next place. It was insane, Bill, and I have interviews starting at 7 AM tomorrow, and I think I’m too keyed up to sleep.”
“You think that now,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Wait until you lie down. Come on.”
She pouted as he pulled her in, and he thought it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “But I promised you that after I won-“
“Yes, and that will happen, Laura,” he said with a lopsided grin. She giggled. “But right now you need sleep. Come on.”
She was still in her dress clothes from the many pictures she’d taken earlier with her medal. He helped her undress, not too tired to appreciate how she looked in her underwear, but not quite awake enough to do anything about it. He passed her one of his extra shirts and slid under the covers, pulling her against him when she joined him shortly after. “Congratulations, by the way,” he said drowsily into her hair.
She giggled sleepily. “Thanks.”
*******
He blinked blearily as he came to sometime in the night. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was around 3 AM, and he sighed, before he recognized the feeling of a warm body against his, and looked down to find Laura pressed against him, her arms wrapped around his waist. Her hair fanned out across the pillow they were sharing. She was asleep.
He had to remind himself to breathe, as he reached up to push some strands of hair off her face, running the back of his fingers along her smooth, pale cheek. She screwed up her nose, and then, adorably, yawned, her eyes fluttering open slowly. She looked confused for a moment, so he repeated the motion, and when her eyes met his a sleepy smile spread across her face. “Hey, you.”
“Hey yourself,” he said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her more tightly into him. She hummed and turned her head to press her lips lightly against his.
“What time is it?”
“Early. We have a couple more hours to sleep.”
She raised an eyebrow, pulling away slightly to lean over him on her elbow. “Sleep sounds good,” she murmured. “I can think of something else to do, though.”
He grinned, before flipping her onto her back. She giggled as he loomed over her, grasping her hands and pressing them over her head. “Something else, eh?” he mused, his lips hovering above hers.
“Uh-huh,” she breathed, before leaning up to capture his open mouth with hers.
He kissed her sweetly at first, but when she lightly bit his lower lip, and then soothed it with her tongue, he shuddered and moaned into her mouth. He slid his tongue in, tangling it with hers, and then stroked along the roof of her mouth. She trembled against him.
They continued to kiss for a while, and he felt the haze of arousal begin to settle around him. He pulled away, pressing messy kisses to her face, her neck, biting her earlobe. She let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a giggle. She was smiling at him, and he smiled back. “Have you done this before?” he asked.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “What?” she asked, amused, and he felt himself blush.
“I just- I need to know.”
She chuckled. “Yes, Bill, I’ve done this before.”
He was unprepared for the sudden surge of emotion he felt at her admission. “Really?” he asked, unable to mask his surprise. “When? With who?”
“Whom,” she corrected, the smile falling off her face as she tilted her head. “Are you jealous, Mr. Adama?”
He frowned, not looking at her. “Of course not,” he said, but it sounded weak, and he knew it.
She giggled. “You are. I never would have imagined…”
He glared at her, letting go of her hands and sitting up. He ran a hand through his dark hair, berating himself internally for his irrational feelings. She sat up as well, looking exasperated.
“Jesus, Bill,” she said, scooting over to him and wrapping her arms around his waist again. She nipped at his chin reproachfully, but her eyes were more than a little worried. “I was 16,” she explained. “You’d only recently arrived. I still thought you were a total ass, and I’m sure you thought I was a spoiled little rich diva girl.” He opened his mouth to protest, and then closed it again. “Thought so,” she said, amused again. “I was pissed at Richard. I think I thought I was getting back at him. Anyway, it was just once, it was terrible, and it has no bearing on this.”
He looked at her in confusion. “How would having sex be getting back at Richard?”
“It wasn’t the act, it was who,” she said, blushing. “It was Ben,” she continued, quietly.
“Ben?” he said, before his eyes widened. “Ben the zamboni boy?”
“Yes, well, at the time I didn’t realize ‘zamboni boy’ apparently capped out his career aspirations,” she said, turning a brighter shade of red. “Anyway, you know what a snob Richard can be.”
Did he ever. He sighed, pulling her into his embrace again. He dropped a kiss on top of her head. “I’m sorry,” he said.
She hummed again. “Does this mean we get to go through your entire sexual history?” she teased.
He stiffened. “I really hope not.”
Laura laughed, leaning back, her arms around his neck. “I don’t care what you did before,” she said, cupping his chin. “All that matters is that we’re here, right now. I don’t ever want to be anywhere else.”
He kissed her, then. How could he not? It started out heated and grew progressively more so, as she lay back, and he followed her. She moved to her side, and he positioned himself next to her, winding his free hand into her hair first to pull it aside. She arched her back, and he latched onto her neck, sucking at her collarbone where the wide neck of his shirt revealed it, then laving her skin to where shoulder meets neck. She whimpered when he sucked her earlobe into his mouth, so he did it again.
Her hands fumbled at the bottom of his shirt, and he sat up to take it off. Laura took in his athletic body with appreciation, running her hands over the washboard abs that years of skating had created, up over his strong shoulders and down his arms. “Nice,” she murmured before kissing him again.
“Off,” he ordered, between kisses, as he tugged at her own shirt. She giggled, but helped him yank it off. He’d forgotten that she was bare-chested under it, and several silent seconds passed as he stared at her in frank amazement. Holy shit she was beautiful. Then he leaned in, kissing her again and sliding his hands up her stomach to cup her breasts.
She moaned into his mouth, and the sound turned him rock hard in seconds. He moved against her, reaching across to push her underwear down. She helped him, kicking it off and molding into him again as he struggled with his own boxers.
“You need to give me a little room here, Laura,” he protested as she tried to throw a leg across his hip. She laughed then, hurriedly helping him shuck them off.
Then it was just skin-on-skin. She threw her leg over his hip again, and he helped her, moving her onto her back. He unlatched his mouth from hers for a second to rest against her, meeting her eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he told her, and she blushed brightly, eyes shining.
“You’re not bad yourself,” she murmured with a smile. She wound her arms around his shoulder, pressing kisses everywhere she could reach. “I want you,” she whispered into his ear, reaching between them to grasp his length and position it at her entrance.
“Yes,” he agreed, surging forward.
Laura had expected some discomfort, considering it had been 4 years since she’d done this once before, but that sensation paled entirely to the painfully perfect look on Bill’s face as he entered her. His mouth pursed in a look of amazement, his eyes closed as he breathed hard, and began to thrust in earnest.
The discomfort faded quickly, and the overwhelming, heady sensation of him took over her. She wrapped both legs around him, eyes fluttering closed. “Move with me, Laura,” he said, grasping her hip and showing her what to do. She fell into the rhythm easily, and with the rhythm came new, exquisite sensations.
“Oh, my God,” she said, biting her lip as he moved in and out of her.
“Yeah, baby,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss her hungrily.
She could feel an orgasm building, just out of reach but growing stronger. It felt so different from the ones she’d given herself over the years, and she began to undulate against him faster as she felt it. Sensing where she was, he reached between them, stroking her clitoris in time with his thrusts, and the orgasm washed over her. She gasped, her back arching and then stilling as she shuddered. He kissed her neck, her chin, her cheeks as she came down - but not very far down, because he was still thrusting, still working in her.
“I hope you can do that again, baby,” he whispered in her ear. She giggled breathlessly, looking up at him with such love it took his breath away.
He paused to hike her legs up higher, over his shoulders. It was an easy position for someone with her flexibility. Then he began to thrust faster, harder, and her head snapped back into the pillow as she released a loud cry -then several more as he continued.
It was building again, much faster, sharper and sweeter, and she called his name hoarsely as she came a second time. She felt him lose his rhythm, jerking into her a couple times, and watched in wonder as he came inside of her.
He collapsed next to her a few seconds later, pulling her tightly to him and feathering kisses along her face and upper body. Laura smiled happily, running her hands through his hair. “That was wonderful, Bill,” she said, surprised at how ragged her voice was. He grinned at her with the same cocky expression that accompanied most of his free programs - but this time it was softened by the look in his eye.
“What time is it?” she asked, yawning as she settled her head on his shoulder.
“3:30,” he said, looking at the clock behind her.
“Okay. I’ll see you in a couple hours,” she whispered, falling back asleep. He joined her shortly thereafter.