FIC: Turn the Page ~ Chapter 30
Title: Turn the Page ~ Chapter Thirty
Author: bugs
Genre: AU, Romance, Drama
Rating: T
Word Count: 2,400
Chapter 30:
Laura closed the front door behind Billy and locked it securely. Alone in the big house, she needed to feel safe.
The evening had started out differently, with every light on and glasses and cutlery clanking, voices overlapping with laughter and tension.
Bill had asked if he may invite Lee over for a dinner to commemorate his son's last shift as a policeman. "I know I said this weekend would be for us--"
"Of course, Bill," Laura had been quick to say, knowing how difficult this was for him.
But she'd asked Billy and Dee to join them to act as a buffer. To Bill, Laura had only suggested that Lee may appreciate some other younger faces present, yet once they were all there, she could see that no amount of buffering was going to make the two Adama men comfortable with this situation; anxiety had swirled under the table like a creeping fog.
Then the doorbell had rung. It was Saul Tigh and several other policeman, searching for Lee and his father, with the intent of a real celebration. Dee had been dragged away too, being part of the brotherhood.
After helping Laura clean up the half-eaten meal, Billy suggested they might as well get some work done.
"You don't have to stay," Laura said. "It's Saturday night, after all." She wasn't sure what young people did on Saturday nights these days, but she was sure it wasn't catching up on paperwork.
He glanced toward the door. "My Saturday just blew off. I don't mind."
As they settled in the office with their tablets, Laura dared to probe. "So you're getting pretty serious about Dee?"
Billy looked around the comfortable room, his gaze stopping on Laura curled up on the sofa. "You're getting pretty serious yourself."
"You didn't answer the question."
The tips of his ears glowed red. "Yes, I guess I am."
Laura snuggled deeper in the cushions. "I guess I am too."
They both grinned,and dove into their schoolwork.
A few hours later, the doorbell echoed through the quiet house.
"Did he forget his key?" asked Billy, checking the time.
"I suppose he could have," Laura said, rising. "He did leave in a rush."
But when she opened the front door, a smile on her face, it was a blonde woman about her age.
"May I help you?" Laura said carefully.
The woman stared at Laura for a long moment. "Is Bill here?" she said finally.
Laura's heart skipped a beat. She really did know little about Bill. Was she wrong to assume she was the only woman in his life?
She raised her chin. "No, he's out."
Billy came down the dim hall behind her. "Is everything all right, Laura?" he asked.
"It's fine, Billy," she said, but didn't step aside to admit the visitor.
"Billy?" The woman smirked, looking pointedly at the young man.
"May I tell Bill who called?" Laura said, her irritation growing.
"Yes, his wife."
Billy gave a little gasp.
Laura bit back the words that immediately leapt to her tongue: 'Ex-wife, you mean.'
"He's out with Lee," she offered instead.
"I was actually looking for Lee," Carolanne admitted. "He's not at home or answering his cell."
"They're at a police gathering to send Lee off," Laura said.
"Yes, thank God!" Carolanne rolled her eyes. "Finally!"
Laura certainly would not want any child of hers to be in harm's way and was glad Bill was no longer a police officer, but something about Carolanne's tone put her off.
She started to ease the door shut. "I'll tell Bill you came by--"
Carolanne was looking at Billy again, but she spoke to Laura. "So you must be the nun."
With that, Laura knew whoever had told this woman about her, it wasn't Bill.
"No, I'm a school teacher. This my student teacher," she added, and then cursed herself that she'd given in to this woman's obvious unspoken suggestion that there was something unsavory about Laura having another man in Bill's house while was gone. "We were all having dinner when Saul Tigh arrived--"
"Oh God, Saul! They're out with him?" Carolanne groaned.
When Laura nodded, she added, "Then they're at a strip club for sure."
Billy frowned and Laura decided the conversation was over. "As I said, I'll let them know you are looking for Lee." She closed the door before Carolanne could say anything more.
"I better go," said Billy, hurrying back to the office.
Laura trailed after him. "We are not going to let that woman drive you way," she insisted.
"Are you kidding? You know she's staking out the house in her car across the street." He stuffed his tablet in his bookbag.
Laura chuckled, nodding her head. "For all her bad feelings about the police force, I can see her doing that."
Billy lingered. "Are you going to be all right?" He checked the clock. "I should walk you home."
"Bill will be home soon. If not, I'll just go to bed. Here," she said firmly.
Billy opened his mouth, then closed it. "Okay," he said, blushing.
When Laura opened the front door for Billy, she swore she saw a figure in one of the dark cars on the street and fought off a giggle as she wished him a good night.
She decided to keep working, and this time when she heard the front door open, she knew it was Bill.
His steps were slow and laborious coming down the hall. She waited, rather than going to him.
"You're still up," Bill said, lingering in the doorway. She'd taken over one of his tables, her papers and tablet spread out across its top, the screen's glow reflecting on her face.
His thick hair was rumbled, his already droopy eyelids half-closed. One of the tails of his shirt hung by his hip; his fly wasn't pulled all the way up on his slacks. He looked like a sleepy, grumpy boy.
"Just catching up on work," she said neutrally. He wavered on his feet, then without a word, turned and went away. In the silent house, she heard the clank of ice cubes in a glass and the gurgle of liquid behind poured. Somehow she knew it wasn't water.
He returned, leaning against his desk to watch her work.
Her gaze focused on the full tumbler of amber liquid in his hand. "Haven't you had enough tonight?"
"It's a celebration, remember?" He gulped half of it down.
Her gaze returned to the tablet's screen, but she didn't see the words. She'd asked her mother if the tumor in her breast hurt, imaging it as some great constant pain. The older woman had only shaken her head.
"Not really. It's a different sort of a pain. How I imagine drowning would feel. There's this great unknown, a crushing sensation. I fear that a lot," her mother had said matter-of-factedly.
Laura felt like that right now. She didn't know what to do about this situation. She'd tried running away from Bill once and that hadn't worked. If she was going to stay though, she was going to fight, not remain silent and docile.
"You can't stop it, you know," she said, low.
"What?" He drained the glass, opened a desk drawer and removed a pint bottle that he used to refill the glass.
"Losing us; Kara--the Kara you thought you knew. Lee, the man you want him to be. Me, the woman you met one afternoon in a coffee shop."
He furrowed his thick brow. "Nobody's goin' anywhere," he insisted. "So the boy wants to be a big bad lawyer. So what. And you--"
Fear flashed across his face. She wondered if it was at the thought of her leaving physically or staying, but changing from the woman with whom he fell in love.
"You're so afraid of being alone--" she mused. "You've created a hundred other people to keep you company." She nodded toward his laptop. "But you can't stop us from changing. The real people."
His face darkened and his drooping mouth twisted. "You can stay, but keep out of my head, okay?" he growled. "You're afraid of being together. You find a hundred ways to push me away."
He slammed the glass down and the cubes jumped. Laura steeled herself to keep from jerking as well. He stormed toward the door.
Her words stopped him. "Yes, a muse is supposed to be silent, isn't she? Simply inspiring and not having her own pesky, errant thoughts," she sneered. "And I'm certainly not allowed to poke around in yours."
His back still to her, his shoulders stiffened. "I need to clean up."
"Do," she murmured, returning to her work. Oddly, she felt no urge to flee his house and this uncomfortable scene. She wasn't sure if that meant she was becoming accustomed to the reality of a relationship or sucked into a dysfunctional one. Or a bit of both; she just didn't know enough about them. With a shaking sigh, she closed out her programs, turned off the lights, and mounted the stairs to the bedroom.
Laura was nearly asleep when Bill padded out of the bathroom and crawled into the bed beside her. He pulled her close. He breathed hoarsely by her ear and she could smell the toothpaste and strong soap he'd used but with the harsh alcohol lingering just beneath the surface. Despite still being inebriated, his intent was obvious. His hands fumbled at her breasts, heavy on their weight.
His pelvis pressed against her bottom but there wasn't his usual urgent erection. He remained only half-aroused even when she rotated her hips against him tentatively.
He gave an embarrassed chuckle. "Guess I'm tired tonight."
She bit back a retort; she'd said enough for the night on the topic.
His hand left her breast to slip into her panties. His touch was clumsy; not his sure fingers playing her body like an instrument.
She gripped his wrist, stopping him. "You are tired," she said with a remote voice. "Let's go to sleep."
"I can give you pleasure," he insisted.
"No, this isn't very pleasant," she said, her tone finally sharp.
He wiggled away from her. "Do you want to go home?"
"Bill, it's after midnight, I'm in my nightgown and I've got an headache. No, I don't want to go home. Go to sleep."
"Yeah, right," he grumbled.
She could tell that he'd somehow made himself the martyr here, but she didn't care. Still, he was the first to fall asleep, his deep breathing becoming her lullaby.
When Bill cracked his crusted eyelids in the morning, he was shocked to see Laura still there. Waking at the same moment, she was pushing her hair off her face and focusing on the clock.
Even as he reached for her, last night's humiliation fresh on his mind, she was scooting from under the covers.
"Church?" he asked.
"Church," she said, rooting through the closet for a dress.
Sighing, he closed his eyelids again. Fine, he'd sleep off this pounding behind his eyes.
Laura listened to the services with only half her attention. Just being in the fine old church was what she needed this morning. She avoided taking communion and when she stood outside, checking the gray sky, decided to take a long walk would help to clear her thoughts as well.
First she went by her apartment and changed into sweatpants and sweater, lacing up her athletic shoes, before starting a vigorous stroll through the rolling hills behind Piedmont Avenue. She admired many lovely homes, but found herself finishing before one certain dark-green shingled Arts and Craft bungalow. She called out hello to Hannah and her friends in the front yard next door, then mounted the stoop.
Bill looked up from his lunch when she poked her head into the kitchen. "Dropping in?" he said with a forced casual air.
"Thought I'd use that big clawfoot tub of yours for a soak," she said with equal nonchalance. "My muscles aren't used to this kind of workout."
"Doesn't have the jets," he said, keeping his gaze focused on his bowl of cooling soup.
"That's okay," she said before turning away.
He watched her hips sashay away, then went to the sink, feeding his uneaten meal down the disposal and washing out the bowl before putting it in the dishwasher.
Cocking his head, he listened to the water run upstairs until it stopped. After a few more minutes, he mounted the stairs.
Her hair pinned up, Laura lolled under the hot, scented water, feeling her tight hamstrings loosen. The bathroom had a large window, and after assuring that no one could see inside, she'd come to love the way it filled the room with dappled light.
The rain that had been threatening all day finally started to pepper the glass. She heard the stereo beginning to play a low, plaintive tune in the bedroom. Raising her eyebrows, she found the sponge under the bubbles and squeezed suds over her shoulders.
The door creaked open, a stool scraped across the floor, and a big hand took the sponge from her slack hand. His lips ghosted across her bared spine. His nose pushed aside the stray curls laying on her neck. He swirled the sponge around her breasts, gentle but insistent.
She reached for his hand and he instantly stilled. Lifting it, she kissed the broad back. Encouraged, he tipped up her face to his and began kissing her deeply.
The water was cooling, but his touch was hot on her body, his bare arms sinking beneath the bubbles. In his usual tenacious manner, Laura knew that he wanted to make last night right.
"Com'on," he rumbled, easing her upright. He toweled her off and led her to the bedroom, naked and pink-skinned. Laying her across the bed, he stood over her, yearning in his gaze.
Only when she reached for him did he start to peel off his clothes. She smiled up at him through her tears. His shy smile in return broke her heart. She wanted to make last night right too.
End ~ Chapter 30
Author: bugs
Genre: AU, Romance, Drama
Rating: T
Word Count: 2,400
Chapter 30:
Laura closed the front door behind Billy and locked it securely. Alone in the big house, she needed to feel safe.
The evening had started out differently, with every light on and glasses and cutlery clanking, voices overlapping with laughter and tension.
Bill had asked if he may invite Lee over for a dinner to commemorate his son's last shift as a policeman. "I know I said this weekend would be for us--"
"Of course, Bill," Laura had been quick to say, knowing how difficult this was for him.
But she'd asked Billy and Dee to join them to act as a buffer. To Bill, Laura had only suggested that Lee may appreciate some other younger faces present, yet once they were all there, she could see that no amount of buffering was going to make the two Adama men comfortable with this situation; anxiety had swirled under the table like a creeping fog.
Then the doorbell had rung. It was Saul Tigh and several other policeman, searching for Lee and his father, with the intent of a real celebration. Dee had been dragged away too, being part of the brotherhood.
After helping Laura clean up the half-eaten meal, Billy suggested they might as well get some work done.
"You don't have to stay," Laura said. "It's Saturday night, after all." She wasn't sure what young people did on Saturday nights these days, but she was sure it wasn't catching up on paperwork.
He glanced toward the door. "My Saturday just blew off. I don't mind."
As they settled in the office with their tablets, Laura dared to probe. "So you're getting pretty serious about Dee?"
Billy looked around the comfortable room, his gaze stopping on Laura curled up on the sofa. "You're getting pretty serious yourself."
"You didn't answer the question."
The tips of his ears glowed red. "Yes, I guess I am."
Laura snuggled deeper in the cushions. "I guess I am too."
They both grinned,and dove into their schoolwork.
A few hours later, the doorbell echoed through the quiet house.
"Did he forget his key?" asked Billy, checking the time.
"I suppose he could have," Laura said, rising. "He did leave in a rush."
But when she opened the front door, a smile on her face, it was a blonde woman about her age.
"May I help you?" Laura said carefully.
The woman stared at Laura for a long moment. "Is Bill here?" she said finally.
Laura's heart skipped a beat. She really did know little about Bill. Was she wrong to assume she was the only woman in his life?
She raised her chin. "No, he's out."
Billy came down the dim hall behind her. "Is everything all right, Laura?" he asked.
"It's fine, Billy," she said, but didn't step aside to admit the visitor.
"Billy?" The woman smirked, looking pointedly at the young man.
"May I tell Bill who called?" Laura said, her irritation growing.
"Yes, his wife."
Billy gave a little gasp.
Laura bit back the words that immediately leapt to her tongue: 'Ex-wife, you mean.'
"He's out with Lee," she offered instead.
"I was actually looking for Lee," Carolanne admitted. "He's not at home or answering his cell."
"They're at a police gathering to send Lee off," Laura said.
"Yes, thank God!" Carolanne rolled her eyes. "Finally!"
Laura certainly would not want any child of hers to be in harm's way and was glad Bill was no longer a police officer, but something about Carolanne's tone put her off.
She started to ease the door shut. "I'll tell Bill you came by--"
Carolanne was looking at Billy again, but she spoke to Laura. "So you must be the nun."
With that, Laura knew whoever had told this woman about her, it wasn't Bill.
"No, I'm a school teacher. This my student teacher," she added, and then cursed herself that she'd given in to this woman's obvious unspoken suggestion that there was something unsavory about Laura having another man in Bill's house while was gone. "We were all having dinner when Saul Tigh arrived--"
"Oh God, Saul! They're out with him?" Carolanne groaned.
When Laura nodded, she added, "Then they're at a strip club for sure."
Billy frowned and Laura decided the conversation was over. "As I said, I'll let them know you are looking for Lee." She closed the door before Carolanne could say anything more.
"I better go," said Billy, hurrying back to the office.
Laura trailed after him. "We are not going to let that woman drive you way," she insisted.
"Are you kidding? You know she's staking out the house in her car across the street." He stuffed his tablet in his bookbag.
Laura chuckled, nodding her head. "For all her bad feelings about the police force, I can see her doing that."
Billy lingered. "Are you going to be all right?" He checked the clock. "I should walk you home."
"Bill will be home soon. If not, I'll just go to bed. Here," she said firmly.
Billy opened his mouth, then closed it. "Okay," he said, blushing.
When Laura opened the front door for Billy, she swore she saw a figure in one of the dark cars on the street and fought off a giggle as she wished him a good night.
She decided to keep working, and this time when she heard the front door open, she knew it was Bill.
His steps were slow and laborious coming down the hall. She waited, rather than going to him.
"You're still up," Bill said, lingering in the doorway. She'd taken over one of his tables, her papers and tablet spread out across its top, the screen's glow reflecting on her face.
His thick hair was rumbled, his already droopy eyelids half-closed. One of the tails of his shirt hung by his hip; his fly wasn't pulled all the way up on his slacks. He looked like a sleepy, grumpy boy.
"Just catching up on work," she said neutrally. He wavered on his feet, then without a word, turned and went away. In the silent house, she heard the clank of ice cubes in a glass and the gurgle of liquid behind poured. Somehow she knew it wasn't water.
He returned, leaning against his desk to watch her work.
Her gaze focused on the full tumbler of amber liquid in his hand. "Haven't you had enough tonight?"
"It's a celebration, remember?" He gulped half of it down.
Her gaze returned to the tablet's screen, but she didn't see the words. She'd asked her mother if the tumor in her breast hurt, imaging it as some great constant pain. The older woman had only shaken her head.
"Not really. It's a different sort of a pain. How I imagine drowning would feel. There's this great unknown, a crushing sensation. I fear that a lot," her mother had said matter-of-factedly.
Laura felt like that right now. She didn't know what to do about this situation. She'd tried running away from Bill once and that hadn't worked. If she was going to stay though, she was going to fight, not remain silent and docile.
"You can't stop it, you know," she said, low.
"What?" He drained the glass, opened a desk drawer and removed a pint bottle that he used to refill the glass.
"Losing us; Kara--the Kara you thought you knew. Lee, the man you want him to be. Me, the woman you met one afternoon in a coffee shop."
He furrowed his thick brow. "Nobody's goin' anywhere," he insisted. "So the boy wants to be a big bad lawyer. So what. And you--"
Fear flashed across his face. She wondered if it was at the thought of her leaving physically or staying, but changing from the woman with whom he fell in love.
"You're so afraid of being alone--" she mused. "You've created a hundred other people to keep you company." She nodded toward his laptop. "But you can't stop us from changing. The real people."
His face darkened and his drooping mouth twisted. "You can stay, but keep out of my head, okay?" he growled. "You're afraid of being together. You find a hundred ways to push me away."
He slammed the glass down and the cubes jumped. Laura steeled herself to keep from jerking as well. He stormed toward the door.
Her words stopped him. "Yes, a muse is supposed to be silent, isn't she? Simply inspiring and not having her own pesky, errant thoughts," she sneered. "And I'm certainly not allowed to poke around in yours."
His back still to her, his shoulders stiffened. "I need to clean up."
"Do," she murmured, returning to her work. Oddly, she felt no urge to flee his house and this uncomfortable scene. She wasn't sure if that meant she was becoming accustomed to the reality of a relationship or sucked into a dysfunctional one. Or a bit of both; she just didn't know enough about them. With a shaking sigh, she closed out her programs, turned off the lights, and mounted the stairs to the bedroom.
Laura was nearly asleep when Bill padded out of the bathroom and crawled into the bed beside her. He pulled her close. He breathed hoarsely by her ear and she could smell the toothpaste and strong soap he'd used but with the harsh alcohol lingering just beneath the surface. Despite still being inebriated, his intent was obvious. His hands fumbled at her breasts, heavy on their weight.
His pelvis pressed against her bottom but there wasn't his usual urgent erection. He remained only half-aroused even when she rotated her hips against him tentatively.
He gave an embarrassed chuckle. "Guess I'm tired tonight."
She bit back a retort; she'd said enough for the night on the topic.
His hand left her breast to slip into her panties. His touch was clumsy; not his sure fingers playing her body like an instrument.
She gripped his wrist, stopping him. "You are tired," she said with a remote voice. "Let's go to sleep."
"I can give you pleasure," he insisted.
"No, this isn't very pleasant," she said, her tone finally sharp.
He wiggled away from her. "Do you want to go home?"
"Bill, it's after midnight, I'm in my nightgown and I've got an headache. No, I don't want to go home. Go to sleep."
"Yeah, right," he grumbled.
She could tell that he'd somehow made himself the martyr here, but she didn't care. Still, he was the first to fall asleep, his deep breathing becoming her lullaby.
When Bill cracked his crusted eyelids in the morning, he was shocked to see Laura still there. Waking at the same moment, she was pushing her hair off her face and focusing on the clock.
Even as he reached for her, last night's humiliation fresh on his mind, she was scooting from under the covers.
"Church?" he asked.
"Church," she said, rooting through the closet for a dress.
Sighing, he closed his eyelids again. Fine, he'd sleep off this pounding behind his eyes.
Laura listened to the services with only half her attention. Just being in the fine old church was what she needed this morning. She avoided taking communion and when she stood outside, checking the gray sky, decided to take a long walk would help to clear her thoughts as well.
First she went by her apartment and changed into sweatpants and sweater, lacing up her athletic shoes, before starting a vigorous stroll through the rolling hills behind Piedmont Avenue. She admired many lovely homes, but found herself finishing before one certain dark-green shingled Arts and Craft bungalow. She called out hello to Hannah and her friends in the front yard next door, then mounted the stoop.
Bill looked up from his lunch when she poked her head into the kitchen. "Dropping in?" he said with a forced casual air.
"Thought I'd use that big clawfoot tub of yours for a soak," she said with equal nonchalance. "My muscles aren't used to this kind of workout."
"Doesn't have the jets," he said, keeping his gaze focused on his bowl of cooling soup.
"That's okay," she said before turning away.
He watched her hips sashay away, then went to the sink, feeding his uneaten meal down the disposal and washing out the bowl before putting it in the dishwasher.
Cocking his head, he listened to the water run upstairs until it stopped. After a few more minutes, he mounted the stairs.
Her hair pinned up, Laura lolled under the hot, scented water, feeling her tight hamstrings loosen. The bathroom had a large window, and after assuring that no one could see inside, she'd come to love the way it filled the room with dappled light.
The rain that had been threatening all day finally started to pepper the glass. She heard the stereo beginning to play a low, plaintive tune in the bedroom. Raising her eyebrows, she found the sponge under the bubbles and squeezed suds over her shoulders.
The door creaked open, a stool scraped across the floor, and a big hand took the sponge from her slack hand. His lips ghosted across her bared spine. His nose pushed aside the stray curls laying on her neck. He swirled the sponge around her breasts, gentle but insistent.
She reached for his hand and he instantly stilled. Lifting it, she kissed the broad back. Encouraged, he tipped up her face to his and began kissing her deeply.
The water was cooling, but his touch was hot on her body, his bare arms sinking beneath the bubbles. In his usual tenacious manner, Laura knew that he wanted to make last night right.
"Com'on," he rumbled, easing her upright. He toweled her off and led her to the bedroom, naked and pink-skinned. Laying her across the bed, he stood over her, yearning in his gaze.
Only when she reached for him did he start to peel off his clothes. She smiled up at him through her tears. His shy smile in return broke her heart. She wanted to make last night right too.
End ~ Chapter 30