On a Day Like Today - Chapter 7
Title: On a Day Like Today
Chapter 7/8
Rated M
Timeline: Dirty Hands to He That Believeth in Me
Written for redrockcan and kastari due to their generous donation to the Queensland Flood Appeal.
Betaed by lacklusterfic
Quick edit: Need to credit frakcancer for first bringing my attention to the 'can't have sex without a condom' thing. Although I did find it when researching for this fic, her mentioning it made me look for it probably.
Laura blinked, trying desperately to clear the fog from her mind.
Bill sat in the chair beside her cot, dozing quietly. Lately, he’d barely left her side, staying with her while she was subjected to a series of X-rays and blood tests and ultrasounds and biopsies. Two days after the first test, Cottle had finally delivered his verdict. Her cancer had returned.
“Hey,” she croaked.
Bill jerked awake immediately. He leaned forward and offered her a sip of water from the glass on the bedside table.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“I don’t feel too much at all,” she replied in a less raspy voice. “Maybe the anaesthetic hasn’t worn off completely yet.” Laura lifted her right arm gingerly where the drip was attached. “My arm’s a little sore.” She smiled at the irony.
“I’ll go find out if they can take it out for you.”
“You’ll come back?” she asked in a needy voice that she hardly recognised as her own.
Bill bent down and kissed her sweetly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Did Cottle tell you how much he cut out?” she asked as he rose to leave.
“About the size of a twenty cubit piece.” He tenderly pushed her hair back from her forehead. “I’ll go tell him you’re awake, and he can talk to you about it.”
Laura watched Bill go with a mixture of anxiety and pride.
The rattle of the curtain interrupted her thoughts. Ishay wanted to take her temperature and blood pressure.
After scribbling the results on the chart at the end of her cot, the medic set a tray in front of her. “Madam President, once you’ve eaten something, I can take that drip out, ” the young girl ordered in her very correct Libran accent.
Laura had just lifted the lid and was scrunching up her nose at the latest algae offering when Bill returned with Cottle.
The doctor picked up her chart and studied it briefly before gesturing to Bill to sit down.
“I’ve found some chamalla for you,” he told Laura. “Same rules apply as last time; take the recommended dosage only. I’m not convinced it suppresses cancer cell regeneration, but I must admit your previous tumour didn’t grow at the speed I would have expected while you were taking it. Plus, it might help to ease some of the side effects of the diloxin.”
Laura took a deep breath, attempting to block out the memories of her mother’s diloxin treatments and the terrible side effects they’d caused.
“I know your mother tried diloxin,” Cottle continued, as if reading her mind, “but every patient reacts differently to it. So, I’m going to go over the possibilities with you one more time. After each treatment you are to tell me exactly what your symptoms are so we can put together a plan to manage them. We’ll introduce complementary medicines to combat each particular side effect, so we need to get it right. ”
Laura nodded dully.
“Okay, well, there are a few that we can’t prevent,” he admitted with a grimace. “Nausea, anaemia and fatigue. They’ll be facts of life, and we’ll just have to deal with them as best we can.”
Laura’s gaze flicked over to Bill. His face was a stoic mask, however, and she couldn’t determine what he was feeling.
“Problems with appetite are common. You could have trouble swallowing, and you could notice changes in your sense of smell or taste.” Cottle glanced at the food on her tray. “That could work to your advantage,” he joked. Neither she nor Bill laughed.
The doctor fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his packet of cigarettes. He shoved one into his mouth, but didn’t light it.
“You will probably suffer from either constipation or diarrhoea; you’ll have to tell me which, so we can tackle the problem correctly. Muscle degeneration occurs naturally from the core side effects, as you can imagine, but in about one in three patients the diloxin will accelerate the problem. The muscles get weak, fatigue sets in, and the patient becomes bedridden.”
The cigarette wobbled around in his mouth with each word.
“You could suffer from involuntary muscle movements, most commonly trembling hands; your skin could be itchy and red; your nails might become brittle or discoloured; and one in four patients experiences hair loss.”
Cottle paused, and looked up at them expectantly.
“You’re a lousy salesman,” Laura murmured with a small smile. Then, she turned to Bill and reached for his hand. He quickly took it. So much had changed since Cottle had given her that same witty line.
“Sex,” Cottle suddenly said.
She blinked in shock. Bill’s hand gripped hers a little harder.
“Excuse me?” she managed to squeak out.
“You won’t be able to have sex for forty-eight hours after each treatment. Well, you could if I could find you some condoms, but things being as they are, I’ll just hope you’re both old enough to show some restraint.” He cleared his throat and looked around the room uncomfortably, not meeting her or Bill’s eyes. “You might not feel like sex anyway. You could suffer from menopausal-like symptoms: vaginal dryness, hot flashes, irregular periods.”
Before either she or Bill could make any type of comment, whether it be denial or otherwise, he quickly went on to give her the date and time of her first treatment. Laura frowned as she recognised the date.
“I can’t. That’s the first day of the trial.”
“Tough,” Cottle barked in reply. “I think we need to be clear on this, young lady. Everything you do is important. I know that. You’ll always be busy. The crises started two years ago, and we haven’t had much of a break between them. So, there will be no excuses. It doesn’t matter how important that Quorum meeting is, or how much we all want to see Baltar squirm in the witness box. Your health is going to come first. Understood?”
*
Laura gripped Bill’s ass, bringing his lower body as close as she could to hers. He twisted his hips and his thrusts sped up.
“Bill,” she gasped as her entire body trembled. She froze for a moment, enjoying her body’s pleasurable reaction as she climaxed.
When she could finally focus again, she saw Bill’s intense gaze boring into her. She buried her head into his shoulder and dug her nails into his back, encouraging him to finish. Within a few seconds, he came, grunting her name in approval.
She relaxed her grip, allowing Bill to slip out of her. He rolled over quickly and settled beside her. She closed her eyes, realising that he was being particularly gentle with her because of the operation she’d had the day before. And that made her perversely angry.
Cottle had performed keyhole surgery. She had the tiniest possible wound. She’d checked with Cottle, and there was no risk of her bursting her stitches.
She stood abruptly and started pulling her clothes on.
“Where you going?” Bill asked.
“I have a meeting with Tom at eight in the morning.”
“So we’re working our schedule around Tom’s now?”
“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you Bill,” she snapped.
“Why don’t you just admit you’re running away? You deliberately scheduled that meeting as an excuse not to stay the night.”
Laura sighed. He was right; she had, but not for the reasons he thought. She was falling in love; that was becoming clearer to her with each passing day. But she had spent the last ten years carefully closing her heart down for business. She didn’t think it was going to be possible to turn the sign around to ‘open’ again without a fight.
“I don’t want to fight, Bill,” she murmured.
“I do.” He sprang up and grabbed her upper arms. “I know you only gave in and let yourself do this because you knew about the cancer-“
“What?” she interrupted. She shook her head. “That’s what you think? That I’m using you? That this is the classic ‘I want to have sex one more time before I die’ scenario?”
Bill’s chin jutted in the air. “Isn’t it?”
She shook her head again. It wasn’t true. She had not so long ago desperately been hoping to be cancer free so they could be together.
“You’re not ever planning to live here permanently, are you? You’ll always think of an excuse.”
She gulped. How could he have got everything so wrong? And, more importantly, could she let him keep believing that?
“This,” she gestured to the rack, “isn’t what I expected, Bill,” she said truthfully.
He sighed and sat down on the rack, looking old and defeated. It broke her heart that she was putting that look on his face.
“I thought you were enjoying this. I thought I told you to tell me if I did something you weren’t happy with.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Tell me,” he ordered huskily.
“I was looking forward to sex with you. I thought it would be fun. You’re the only person who understands my sense of humour. You’re the only person who makes me laugh.”
“Hmph.”
“I thought our sex life would be an extension of our flirting. But it’s not… Maybe that first time, until you saw...” She vaguely gestured to her breast. “But since then, it’s... It’s not what I expected… This intensity, this demand on my emotions, this…” She looked over at him and met his gaze. “This love. I’m just not ready for this kind of love.”
“I am,” he replied simply.
She snorted, and tears welled in her eyes. She lowered herself onto his lap and leaned her head against his chest. “It’s just too much sometimes, when I have everything else going on as well. I just need to step back occasionally. That doesn’t mean I won’t ever step forward again.”
“You need time-“
“Oh Gods, Bill, don’t be so understanding! It drives me crazy!” Her grin contradicted her words.
She leaned over and they kissed--full mouthed, with their tongues lacing. After they parted she touched his cheek softly before standing. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“After you see frakkin’ Zarek,” he grumbled.
She laughed. “Just remember, honey, Zarek wasn’t there when Cottle gave his sex education speech. That must tell you something, at least.”
“That Cottle’s a romantic old fool?”
She kissed him again, and almost wavered from her decision to leave. “Maybe, but maybe I like romantic old fools,” she whispered against his lips before resolutely standing and leaving his quarters.
Link to next chapter
Chapter 7/8
Rated M
Timeline: Dirty Hands to He That Believeth in Me
Written for redrockcan and kastari due to their generous donation to the Queensland Flood Appeal.
Betaed by lacklusterfic
Quick edit: Need to credit frakcancer for first bringing my attention to the 'can't have sex without a condom' thing. Although I did find it when researching for this fic, her mentioning it made me look for it probably.
Laura blinked, trying desperately to clear the fog from her mind.
Bill sat in the chair beside her cot, dozing quietly. Lately, he’d barely left her side, staying with her while she was subjected to a series of X-rays and blood tests and ultrasounds and biopsies. Two days after the first test, Cottle had finally delivered his verdict. Her cancer had returned.
“Hey,” she croaked.
Bill jerked awake immediately. He leaned forward and offered her a sip of water from the glass on the bedside table.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“I don’t feel too much at all,” she replied in a less raspy voice. “Maybe the anaesthetic hasn’t worn off completely yet.” Laura lifted her right arm gingerly where the drip was attached. “My arm’s a little sore.” She smiled at the irony.
“I’ll go find out if they can take it out for you.”
“You’ll come back?” she asked in a needy voice that she hardly recognised as her own.
Bill bent down and kissed her sweetly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Did Cottle tell you how much he cut out?” she asked as he rose to leave.
“About the size of a twenty cubit piece.” He tenderly pushed her hair back from her forehead. “I’ll go tell him you’re awake, and he can talk to you about it.”
Laura watched Bill go with a mixture of anxiety and pride.
The rattle of the curtain interrupted her thoughts. Ishay wanted to take her temperature and blood pressure.
After scribbling the results on the chart at the end of her cot, the medic set a tray in front of her. “Madam President, once you’ve eaten something, I can take that drip out, ” the young girl ordered in her very correct Libran accent.
Laura had just lifted the lid and was scrunching up her nose at the latest algae offering when Bill returned with Cottle.
The doctor picked up her chart and studied it briefly before gesturing to Bill to sit down.
“I’ve found some chamalla for you,” he told Laura. “Same rules apply as last time; take the recommended dosage only. I’m not convinced it suppresses cancer cell regeneration, but I must admit your previous tumour didn’t grow at the speed I would have expected while you were taking it. Plus, it might help to ease some of the side effects of the diloxin.”
Laura took a deep breath, attempting to block out the memories of her mother’s diloxin treatments and the terrible side effects they’d caused.
“I know your mother tried diloxin,” Cottle continued, as if reading her mind, “but every patient reacts differently to it. So, I’m going to go over the possibilities with you one more time. After each treatment you are to tell me exactly what your symptoms are so we can put together a plan to manage them. We’ll introduce complementary medicines to combat each particular side effect, so we need to get it right. ”
Laura nodded dully.
“Okay, well, there are a few that we can’t prevent,” he admitted with a grimace. “Nausea, anaemia and fatigue. They’ll be facts of life, and we’ll just have to deal with them as best we can.”
Laura’s gaze flicked over to Bill. His face was a stoic mask, however, and she couldn’t determine what he was feeling.
“Problems with appetite are common. You could have trouble swallowing, and you could notice changes in your sense of smell or taste.” Cottle glanced at the food on her tray. “That could work to your advantage,” he joked. Neither she nor Bill laughed.
The doctor fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his packet of cigarettes. He shoved one into his mouth, but didn’t light it.
“You will probably suffer from either constipation or diarrhoea; you’ll have to tell me which, so we can tackle the problem correctly. Muscle degeneration occurs naturally from the core side effects, as you can imagine, but in about one in three patients the diloxin will accelerate the problem. The muscles get weak, fatigue sets in, and the patient becomes bedridden.”
The cigarette wobbled around in his mouth with each word.
“You could suffer from involuntary muscle movements, most commonly trembling hands; your skin could be itchy and red; your nails might become brittle or discoloured; and one in four patients experiences hair loss.”
Cottle paused, and looked up at them expectantly.
“You’re a lousy salesman,” Laura murmured with a small smile. Then, she turned to Bill and reached for his hand. He quickly took it. So much had changed since Cottle had given her that same witty line.
“Sex,” Cottle suddenly said.
She blinked in shock. Bill’s hand gripped hers a little harder.
“Excuse me?” she managed to squeak out.
“You won’t be able to have sex for forty-eight hours after each treatment. Well, you could if I could find you some condoms, but things being as they are, I’ll just hope you’re both old enough to show some restraint.” He cleared his throat and looked around the room uncomfortably, not meeting her or Bill’s eyes. “You might not feel like sex anyway. You could suffer from menopausal-like symptoms: vaginal dryness, hot flashes, irregular periods.”
Before either she or Bill could make any type of comment, whether it be denial or otherwise, he quickly went on to give her the date and time of her first treatment. Laura frowned as she recognised the date.
“I can’t. That’s the first day of the trial.”
“Tough,” Cottle barked in reply. “I think we need to be clear on this, young lady. Everything you do is important. I know that. You’ll always be busy. The crises started two years ago, and we haven’t had much of a break between them. So, there will be no excuses. It doesn’t matter how important that Quorum meeting is, or how much we all want to see Baltar squirm in the witness box. Your health is going to come first. Understood?”
*
Laura gripped Bill’s ass, bringing his lower body as close as she could to hers. He twisted his hips and his thrusts sped up.
“Bill,” she gasped as her entire body trembled. She froze for a moment, enjoying her body’s pleasurable reaction as she climaxed.
When she could finally focus again, she saw Bill’s intense gaze boring into her. She buried her head into his shoulder and dug her nails into his back, encouraging him to finish. Within a few seconds, he came, grunting her name in approval.
She relaxed her grip, allowing Bill to slip out of her. He rolled over quickly and settled beside her. She closed her eyes, realising that he was being particularly gentle with her because of the operation she’d had the day before. And that made her perversely angry.
Cottle had performed keyhole surgery. She had the tiniest possible wound. She’d checked with Cottle, and there was no risk of her bursting her stitches.
She stood abruptly and started pulling her clothes on.
“Where you going?” Bill asked.
“I have a meeting with Tom at eight in the morning.”
“So we’re working our schedule around Tom’s now?”
“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you Bill,” she snapped.
“Why don’t you just admit you’re running away? You deliberately scheduled that meeting as an excuse not to stay the night.”
Laura sighed. He was right; she had, but not for the reasons he thought. She was falling in love; that was becoming clearer to her with each passing day. But she had spent the last ten years carefully closing her heart down for business. She didn’t think it was going to be possible to turn the sign around to ‘open’ again without a fight.
“I don’t want to fight, Bill,” she murmured.
“I do.” He sprang up and grabbed her upper arms. “I know you only gave in and let yourself do this because you knew about the cancer-“
“What?” she interrupted. She shook her head. “That’s what you think? That I’m using you? That this is the classic ‘I want to have sex one more time before I die’ scenario?”
Bill’s chin jutted in the air. “Isn’t it?”
She shook her head again. It wasn’t true. She had not so long ago desperately been hoping to be cancer free so they could be together.
“You’re not ever planning to live here permanently, are you? You’ll always think of an excuse.”
She gulped. How could he have got everything so wrong? And, more importantly, could she let him keep believing that?
“This,” she gestured to the rack, “isn’t what I expected, Bill,” she said truthfully.
He sighed and sat down on the rack, looking old and defeated. It broke her heart that she was putting that look on his face.
“I thought you were enjoying this. I thought I told you to tell me if I did something you weren’t happy with.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Tell me,” he ordered huskily.
“I was looking forward to sex with you. I thought it would be fun. You’re the only person who understands my sense of humour. You’re the only person who makes me laugh.”
“Hmph.”
“I thought our sex life would be an extension of our flirting. But it’s not… Maybe that first time, until you saw...” She vaguely gestured to her breast. “But since then, it’s... It’s not what I expected… This intensity, this demand on my emotions, this…” She looked over at him and met his gaze. “This love. I’m just not ready for this kind of love.”
“I am,” he replied simply.
She snorted, and tears welled in her eyes. She lowered herself onto his lap and leaned her head against his chest. “It’s just too much sometimes, when I have everything else going on as well. I just need to step back occasionally. That doesn’t mean I won’t ever step forward again.”
“You need time-“
“Oh Gods, Bill, don’t be so understanding! It drives me crazy!” Her grin contradicted her words.
She leaned over and they kissed--full mouthed, with their tongues lacing. After they parted she touched his cheek softly before standing. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“After you see frakkin’ Zarek,” he grumbled.
She laughed. “Just remember, honey, Zarek wasn’t there when Cottle gave his sex education speech. That must tell you something, at least.”
“That Cottle’s a romantic old fool?”
She kissed him again, and almost wavered from her decision to leave. “Maybe, but maybe I like romantic old fools,” she whispered against his lips before resolutely standing and leaving his quarters.
Link to next chapter