Duet of Silence - Chapter 31
Title: Duet of Silence
Chapter 31
Word Count: 2,010
Rating: T - M (for violence, but not much more than on TV)
Pairing: Adama/Roslin ... plus all the other dysfunctional relationships on the good ship Galactica.
Disclaimer: All belongs to the Lords of Kobol ... the only thing that's mine is my craziness and a couple of original characters.
Spoilers: To "Eye of Jupiter" ... everything from there is definitely AU.
Author's Note: Being rather a little nuts lately; you'll notice some poetry in Chapters 12 & 13 that will seem familiar to the astute reader. Most of it is by the incomparable Emily Dickinson, while the rest are my poor efforts. I hope as you read it, I've made it clear which parts are my scraelings. Enjoy.
Duet of Silence - Chapter 31
Cobra-fast reflexes caught her hand in a vise-like grip before it even registered in her brain that she'd hit him. Laura watched in horrified fascination as colour rose to the surface of his craggy cheek. She had put all he power into that punch and her knuckles ached.
Bill pulled her to him; she stumbled forward in a daze.
"I'm sorry," he breathed into her ear. He folded her into the warmth of his arms and she clung to the solid anchor of his body. "Gods, I'm sorry, Laura."
The ice began to melt. Tears flowed down her cheeks. They stood holding each other and after an eternity of tears, he gently steered her back to the couch. She didn't let him go as he sat down, pulling her half on top of him. She rested her head against his broad chest as new tears coursed down her face.
"I do trust you and I do respect you," he continued, his voice rumbling through her, shattering the walls of ice she built around her soul. "But you're right; my handling of this situation was filtered through the lens of a child--but not Hera, and not your daughter, but my son ... both my sons and the fact that I was not a good father to them when they needed me most. I always prided myself on being a good man and a good father, but if there's one thing I've learned out here at the end of the world, Laura, is that I was neither. So every day I wake up and I try to prove to myself that I can be a good man and a good father, and every night I am faced with my failures. Day after day I fail Lee and I'm so afraid of losing him--so afraid that I've already lost him. But Zak--I can't fail Zak anymore, yet in my own frakked-up way, I'm still trying to prove I can be a good father to him."
"Through Kara," she whispered as the sorrow in his voice penetrated the last of her defenses, "and through your pilots, your deckhands ... your crew."
And through your outrage for an unbearably cruel act, Laura realised now.
"The President needed William Adama, Admiral of the Fleet, to see the necessity of that action," she said looking up into his brimming blue orbs, "but she got Bill Adama, Father of Lee and Zak, who could only see the agony of it."
"I'm sorry," he repeated.
"I'm sorry too."
Again silence filled the space between them, but it was a comfortable silence. Laura found herself mesmerised with tracing the rim of one shiny button.
"I guess Wally told you all about Polly," she said at last.
"He felt that the Admiral of the Fleet needed to get off his high horse and stop making assumptions about the President of the Colonies," Bill replied. "Please don't be angry with him."
"I'm not," she said and found to her surprise that she meant it. "Not any more."
"I'm glad," he replied. "He is a true friend, but I don't think even he understands why you don't talk about her."
"I know." Laura sat up, studying her hands folded on her lap. The ice was gone, and all those feelings that had been dammed up behind it for the last two decades came flooding back, threatening to overwhelm her. "Wally was like a father to her," she said before lapsing into silence for another few moments.
She rose to leave. "I'd better go--I can't do this right now."
"Laura?"
"Please Bill," she whispered. "I promise that one day I'll be able to talk about Polly with you, but not now. I can't."
Gently, he turned her to face him. "I do understand," he said, cupping her face with one hand; instinctively she nuzzled her cheek into its warmth. "But before I lose my courage, there is one other thing and I won't bring it up again until you're ready." He gazed into her eyes expectantly and she nodded her permission.
He let her go and walked over to his desk; she felt suddenly bereft. She sat down on the couch again and watched as he removed an envelope and a small box from the top drawer.
"I borrowed Grey's photograps," he said quietly as he returned and sat down beside her. "I had Gaeta copy them for you," he said and her breath caught at his thoughtfulness. She opened the envelope and saw the album. She gave a small, inarticulate cry as she opened it to the first page and saw the photographs.
"Thank you," Laura he whispered running her fingers over the outline of Polly's chubby little face and she remembered the utter simple joy of those few days on the Halcyon Shores. Her own small collection of photos was a bit worse for wear after the constant dampness of New Caprica and she'd sealed them in plastic bags, but she was still worried about how to preserve them. "Would you mind asking Gaeta to make copies of my photos as well?"
"Not at all," Bill replied smiling. He pressed the tiny wooden box into her hand. Studying it now, she saw it was a replica of an ancient sea chest. Opening it, she found a metal chain--the kind used for military dogtags. But instead of dogtags, a small ivory cameo lay nestled in the chain's coils.
Laura couldn't help the tears that spilled down her face again as she lifted it out of the box. The simple carving had captured all the joy and laughter and life in Polly's face beneath the halo of curls.
"I had this bit of Virgon coralline ivory--" he began. She threw her arms about his neck and sobbed anew, overwhelmed by his love. As she stared at the cameo through her tears, for the first time since her childhood, Laura Roslin felt safe and cherished and loved.
"Oh Bill," she croaked when she could meet his gaze again. "How? When?"
His smile was almost shy. "Waiting is always the hardest part for me," he said. "So in order not to drive Saul and the CIC crew around the bend I decided to work on my ship, but there really isn't much left to do. Well, I'd bought the ivory to carve a crest for her, but once I saw it again ... this just seemed right. I'm just sorry I didn't have a gold chain or a proper backing for it."
"No!" she cried out involuntarily. "No, it's perfect," she assured him. On closer scrutiny she found that the oval cameo was backed by a hexagonal dogtag; she instinctively knew that it was one of his tags.
Holding out his hand to her, he said, "May I?" She reluctantly relinquished her treasure to him. He deftly slipped the chain over her head and gently moved her hair out from under it. Suspended from the chain on a thin loop of wire, the metal of the dogtag was cool against her skin as it laid upon her chest.
"The chain is adjustable," he told her as she looked down at it, mesmerised.
Her need to touch it overwhelmed her. "Thank you," she whispered as sensitive fingers traced the miniature curves and planes of her daughter's features again.
"You're welcome," he replied simply.
Giving in to the sudden impulse that overwhelmed her, Laura leaned in and kissed him. She'd only meant to thank him, but his soft lips and the hint of stubble only served to intoxicate her. She moaned into his mouth, deepening the kiss, mouths parted ... tongues tangled in their sensuous duel. All those heady emotions she'd trained herself to ignore came rushing back, kindling the wildfire deep in her belly and spreading it through her veins.
Laura gave a soft cry as sense exerted itself, along with the need to breathe. Their breaths came in ragged counterpoint as they parted, still staring intently at each other.
Bill smiled and she felt an answering smile curl on her lips. Well that certainly answers that question.
"What question would that be, Madam President?" he asked eyes twinkling mischievously as she started--belatedly realising that she'd voiced her thoughts.
Laura felt the blush creep up her neck and over her cheekboness and chuckled softly. "I think I'd better go before we get carried away," she said rising and rebuttoning the white overdress. Though it might look and feel like silk, the Earther synthetic had the advantage that it didn't wrinkle like real silk.
Bill nodded and rose to meet her, offering his elbow. "Your usual quarters are ready," he said as she looped her arm through his. At the threshold, he glanced at the chair; she shook her head.
"It's not far; I can walk," she said. Her guards, Powell and Robey followed at a discrete distance, with Robey pushing the chair. After a few moments of unbearable silence as they strolled down the corridor, she said lightly, "You know, I should have you up on charges for disobeying my orders, Admiral."
He cocked an eyebrow in confusion as he gazed at her. "How so, Madam President?"
Her mouth twitched with the effort to keep a straight face. "Well, I seem to remember some orders about leaving this system after six days?"
A devilish look sparked in his eyes. "I'm not sure if the orders of a President who has gone AWOL could be considered legally binding," he quipped.
"Civilians don't go AWOL," she pointed out.
"Be that as it may," he countered, "as soon as you left, our dear Mr. Vice President became the one with the legal authority to give orders. I checked it out after the last time you jumped ship on me and went harring off on your own."
"Ahh," she said and lapsed into silence again until they reached the door to her quarters on Galactica.
"Please don't do that to me again, Madam President," he husked; it was barely audible to her ears.
"I will try, Admiral," she replied, unwilling to make any promises to him that she might have to break in the future. "I will certainly try."
Bill nodded, accepting her response for what it was worth.
"Actually," he said, blue eyes snapping again, "I checked with Gaeta, and this planet's day is almost thirty-nine hours long, so when six of its days are translated to our twenty-four hour clock, it works out to be approximately ten standard days. So you see, Madam President, I did obey orders and wait six days for you--just not six standard Caprican days and I don't remember you being terribly specific on that point."
Laura burst into a gale of aching giggles and his rumbling laughter joined hers. However, she knew that part of this was just her desire to prolong his presence as much as possible and that she really should go inside.
"Well, goodnight, Bill," she said. "Tomorrow is going to be a busy day; there are a lot of issues to be resolved."
"And we'll resolve to them together," he replied. "Goodnight, Laura." As she stepped inside, he continued, drawing her attention back to his face and to the undeniable love in those eyes she longed to lose herself in now. "And perhaps tomorrow we can also find a few minutes in our busy day to explore that question further."
Laura felt her heart race in a way it hadn't in years and she understood his reference immediately. "Tomorrow and the next day and the next day and the next," she said softly. Clasping her cameo gently against her heart, she allowed her eyes to say what she could not voice.
"I'm looking forward to exploring all aspects of that question with you, Bill," she said. "Goodnight," she murmured again, gently shutting the hatch.
And for a few long moments, standing with her back against the door and listening to her own breathing in the comfortable silence, she found a measure of peace.
The End
Author's Endnotes: I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you all enjoyed reading it. There may be a sequel, but please, don't hold your breath; I think everyone is acquainted with my writing habits and know how slow I am to produce. Anyway, I'll be occupied for the next little while with finishing up "Stumbling Towards the Dawn" and a new fic based on another Leonard Cohen song. I may also post this fic to the Survival Instinct A/R archive.
Chapter 31
Word Count: 2,010
Rating: T - M (for violence, but not much more than on TV)
Pairing: Adama/Roslin ... plus all the other dysfunctional relationships on the good ship Galactica.
Disclaimer: All belongs to the Lords of Kobol ... the only thing that's mine is my craziness and a couple of original characters.
Spoilers: To "Eye of Jupiter" ... everything from there is definitely AU.
Author's Note: Being rather a little nuts lately; you'll notice some poetry in Chapters 12 & 13 that will seem familiar to the astute reader. Most of it is by the incomparable Emily Dickinson, while the rest are my poor efforts. I hope as you read it, I've made it clear which parts are my scraelings. Enjoy.
Duet of Silence - Chapter 31
Cobra-fast reflexes caught her hand in a vise-like grip before it even registered in her brain that she'd hit him. Laura watched in horrified fascination as colour rose to the surface of his craggy cheek. She had put all he power into that punch and her knuckles ached.
Bill pulled her to him; she stumbled forward in a daze.
"I'm sorry," he breathed into her ear. He folded her into the warmth of his arms and she clung to the solid anchor of his body. "Gods, I'm sorry, Laura."
The ice began to melt. Tears flowed down her cheeks. They stood holding each other and after an eternity of tears, he gently steered her back to the couch. She didn't let him go as he sat down, pulling her half on top of him. She rested her head against his broad chest as new tears coursed down her face.
"I do trust you and I do respect you," he continued, his voice rumbling through her, shattering the walls of ice she built around her soul. "But you're right; my handling of this situation was filtered through the lens of a child--but not Hera, and not your daughter, but my son ... both my sons and the fact that I was not a good father to them when they needed me most. I always prided myself on being a good man and a good father, but if there's one thing I've learned out here at the end of the world, Laura, is that I was neither. So every day I wake up and I try to prove to myself that I can be a good man and a good father, and every night I am faced with my failures. Day after day I fail Lee and I'm so afraid of losing him--so afraid that I've already lost him. But Zak--I can't fail Zak anymore, yet in my own frakked-up way, I'm still trying to prove I can be a good father to him."
"Through Kara," she whispered as the sorrow in his voice penetrated the last of her defenses, "and through your pilots, your deckhands ... your crew."
And through your outrage for an unbearably cruel act, Laura realised now.
"The President needed William Adama, Admiral of the Fleet, to see the necessity of that action," she said looking up into his brimming blue orbs, "but she got Bill Adama, Father of Lee and Zak, who could only see the agony of it."
"I'm sorry," he repeated.
"I'm sorry too."
Again silence filled the space between them, but it was a comfortable silence. Laura found herself mesmerised with tracing the rim of one shiny button.
"I guess Wally told you all about Polly," she said at last.
"He felt that the Admiral of the Fleet needed to get off his high horse and stop making assumptions about the President of the Colonies," Bill replied. "Please don't be angry with him."
"I'm not," she said and found to her surprise that she meant it. "Not any more."
"I'm glad," he replied. "He is a true friend, but I don't think even he understands why you don't talk about her."
"I know." Laura sat up, studying her hands folded on her lap. The ice was gone, and all those feelings that had been dammed up behind it for the last two decades came flooding back, threatening to overwhelm her. "Wally was like a father to her," she said before lapsing into silence for another few moments.
She rose to leave. "I'd better go--I can't do this right now."
"Laura?"
"Please Bill," she whispered. "I promise that one day I'll be able to talk about Polly with you, but not now. I can't."
Gently, he turned her to face him. "I do understand," he said, cupping her face with one hand; instinctively she nuzzled her cheek into its warmth. "But before I lose my courage, there is one other thing and I won't bring it up again until you're ready." He gazed into her eyes expectantly and she nodded her permission.
He let her go and walked over to his desk; she felt suddenly bereft. She sat down on the couch again and watched as he removed an envelope and a small box from the top drawer.
"I borrowed Grey's photograps," he said quietly as he returned and sat down beside her. "I had Gaeta copy them for you," he said and her breath caught at his thoughtfulness. She opened the envelope and saw the album. She gave a small, inarticulate cry as she opened it to the first page and saw the photographs.
"Thank you," Laura he whispered running her fingers over the outline of Polly's chubby little face and she remembered the utter simple joy of those few days on the Halcyon Shores. Her own small collection of photos was a bit worse for wear after the constant dampness of New Caprica and she'd sealed them in plastic bags, but she was still worried about how to preserve them. "Would you mind asking Gaeta to make copies of my photos as well?"
"Not at all," Bill replied smiling. He pressed the tiny wooden box into her hand. Studying it now, she saw it was a replica of an ancient sea chest. Opening it, she found a metal chain--the kind used for military dogtags. But instead of dogtags, a small ivory cameo lay nestled in the chain's coils.
Laura couldn't help the tears that spilled down her face again as she lifted it out of the box. The simple carving had captured all the joy and laughter and life in Polly's face beneath the halo of curls.
"I had this bit of Virgon coralline ivory--" he began. She threw her arms about his neck and sobbed anew, overwhelmed by his love. As she stared at the cameo through her tears, for the first time since her childhood, Laura Roslin felt safe and cherished and loved.
"Oh Bill," she croaked when she could meet his gaze again. "How? When?"
His smile was almost shy. "Waiting is always the hardest part for me," he said. "So in order not to drive Saul and the CIC crew around the bend I decided to work on my ship, but there really isn't much left to do. Well, I'd bought the ivory to carve a crest for her, but once I saw it again ... this just seemed right. I'm just sorry I didn't have a gold chain or a proper backing for it."
"No!" she cried out involuntarily. "No, it's perfect," she assured him. On closer scrutiny she found that the oval cameo was backed by a hexagonal dogtag; she instinctively knew that it was one of his tags.
Holding out his hand to her, he said, "May I?" She reluctantly relinquished her treasure to him. He deftly slipped the chain over her head and gently moved her hair out from under it. Suspended from the chain on a thin loop of wire, the metal of the dogtag was cool against her skin as it laid upon her chest.
"The chain is adjustable," he told her as she looked down at it, mesmerised.
Her need to touch it overwhelmed her. "Thank you," she whispered as sensitive fingers traced the miniature curves and planes of her daughter's features again.
"You're welcome," he replied simply.
Giving in to the sudden impulse that overwhelmed her, Laura leaned in and kissed him. She'd only meant to thank him, but his soft lips and the hint of stubble only served to intoxicate her. She moaned into his mouth, deepening the kiss, mouths parted ... tongues tangled in their sensuous duel. All those heady emotions she'd trained herself to ignore came rushing back, kindling the wildfire deep in her belly and spreading it through her veins.
Laura gave a soft cry as sense exerted itself, along with the need to breathe. Their breaths came in ragged counterpoint as they parted, still staring intently at each other.
Bill smiled and she felt an answering smile curl on her lips. Well that certainly answers that question.
"What question would that be, Madam President?" he asked eyes twinkling mischievously as she started--belatedly realising that she'd voiced her thoughts.
Laura felt the blush creep up her neck and over her cheekboness and chuckled softly. "I think I'd better go before we get carried away," she said rising and rebuttoning the white overdress. Though it might look and feel like silk, the Earther synthetic had the advantage that it didn't wrinkle like real silk.
Bill nodded and rose to meet her, offering his elbow. "Your usual quarters are ready," he said as she looped her arm through his. At the threshold, he glanced at the chair; she shook her head.
"It's not far; I can walk," she said. Her guards, Powell and Robey followed at a discrete distance, with Robey pushing the chair. After a few moments of unbearable silence as they strolled down the corridor, she said lightly, "You know, I should have you up on charges for disobeying my orders, Admiral."
He cocked an eyebrow in confusion as he gazed at her. "How so, Madam President?"
Her mouth twitched with the effort to keep a straight face. "Well, I seem to remember some orders about leaving this system after six days?"
A devilish look sparked in his eyes. "I'm not sure if the orders of a President who has gone AWOL could be considered legally binding," he quipped.
"Civilians don't go AWOL," she pointed out.
"Be that as it may," he countered, "as soon as you left, our dear Mr. Vice President became the one with the legal authority to give orders. I checked it out after the last time you jumped ship on me and went harring off on your own."
"Ahh," she said and lapsed into silence again until they reached the door to her quarters on Galactica.
"Please don't do that to me again, Madam President," he husked; it was barely audible to her ears.
"I will try, Admiral," she replied, unwilling to make any promises to him that she might have to break in the future. "I will certainly try."
Bill nodded, accepting her response for what it was worth.
"Actually," he said, blue eyes snapping again, "I checked with Gaeta, and this planet's day is almost thirty-nine hours long, so when six of its days are translated to our twenty-four hour clock, it works out to be approximately ten standard days. So you see, Madam President, I did obey orders and wait six days for you--just not six standard Caprican days and I don't remember you being terribly specific on that point."
Laura burst into a gale of aching giggles and his rumbling laughter joined hers. However, she knew that part of this was just her desire to prolong his presence as much as possible and that she really should go inside.
"Well, goodnight, Bill," she said. "Tomorrow is going to be a busy day; there are a lot of issues to be resolved."
"And we'll resolve to them together," he replied. "Goodnight, Laura." As she stepped inside, he continued, drawing her attention back to his face and to the undeniable love in those eyes she longed to lose herself in now. "And perhaps tomorrow we can also find a few minutes in our busy day to explore that question further."
Laura felt her heart race in a way it hadn't in years and she understood his reference immediately. "Tomorrow and the next day and the next day and the next," she said softly. Clasping her cameo gently against her heart, she allowed her eyes to say what she could not voice.
"I'm looking forward to exploring all aspects of that question with you, Bill," she said. "Goodnight," she murmured again, gently shutting the hatch.
And for a few long moments, standing with her back against the door and listening to her own breathing in the comfortable silence, she found a measure of peace.
The End
Author's Endnotes: I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you all enjoyed reading it. There may be a sequel, but please, don't hold your breath; I think everyone is acquainted with my writing habits and know how slow I am to produce. Anyway, I'll be occupied for the next little while with finishing up "Stumbling Towards the Dawn" and a new fic based on another Leonard Cohen song. I may also post this fic to the Survival Instinct A/R archive.