What We Owe

Jan 02, 2012 16:08

Title: What We Owe
Fandom: Battlestar Galacatica

Beta: nixmom
Notes: For defyingnormalcy and nonnaminerva from adama_roslin with what they requested on the Holiday Wishlist



-

"Laura?"

"Mm?" She snuggled closer to his side, her palm running across his chest before coming to rest above his heart.

Bill tightened the arm he had around her in response, feeling a warm, lazy smile overtake his face. The stars shone above them, patterns having shifted from the first time they had lain out under the sky six months ago. A turning planet with a changing view. Somehow the difference was more noticeable in its subtlety than were the jarring changes produced by FTL jumps.

"What was that?" Laura murmured, in her sleepy, and mildly stoned state, thinking she had missed words in his silence.

He had known the woman in his arms for over a year, their relationship progressing in fits and starts- mistrust, bullets, and eventually the brig. All leading to...this. Bill sometimes fancied that an inevitable something brought them as close as they were now. It was the closest he had ever gotten to considering a higher power, and only when he wasn’t sober.

Six months seemed perfectly adequate with the word 'inevitable' floating through his foggy mind. "Marry me."

Laura stayed silent, and he could feel her body tense. Bill looked down at where her head rested on his shoulder, but his view of her face was blocked by her hair. He could still catch the faint outline of her lips, parted slightly. He realized she knew exactly what she wanted to say, but her protracted silence meant she was searching for another way to say it.

A second too late she said, "Ask me when you're not stoned." The forced levity in her tone fell flat.

Bill turned his gaze back to the stars, and neither spoke for the rest of the night.

-

The morning woke the Admiral with the bitter smell of Laura's tea, drowning out the faint scent of sweet smoke from the pillow he was currently drooling on. Squinty-eyed and caffeine deprived, he slowly sat up, running a hand through his hair.

Laura smirked at him from over the rim of her chipped coffee mug. He grunted in response, scratching at his belly where his tanks had ridden up. She wandered over to him, pressing the warm cup into his hands as she threaded one hand through his bed head.

"You slept well," she commented, eyes drifting down to the puddle of drool on the pillow.

The hot tea in his throat woke him somewhat, and he hastily reached out to wipe at the fabric, making her laugh. Her fingers brushed the side of his face before her thumb came to stroke the corner of his lip.

"There's some hot water, its just warm now, left over. You can wash your face." Laura took back her mug and made the two steps it took to cross her tent and reach her camp stove.

"You implying sumthin?" He grumped.

She gave him a look over her shoulder.

Over exaggerating his grumbles, Bill pushed himself off the cot and stretched. The New Caprican morning stole the residual warmth he had from the sheets, prompting him to hastily locate and put on his pants. Buttoning himself up, he quickly closed the gap between himself and the beautiful teacher he had come to know, wrapping his arm around her waist. She leaned back into his chest with a hum, eyes distracted by a pile of papers stacked on her wobbly card table. Resting his cheek against hers, Bill rubbed his stubble across her smooth skin, making her squirm.

He nipped her earlobe before murmuring, "Marry me," into her ear.

She slipped out of his grip quickly, but he could still spot the sudden tension in her body.

"You call that a proposal?" She quipped, without the awkward pause that carried before last night's response. Laura danced around him to fetch his uniform jacket off her camp chair. She kept her eyes focused on it as she spoke again. "Your raptor leaves this morning."

Bill waited before replying, hoping his silence would stretch out long enough to make her turn her eyes back to him. She ran her hand down an imaginary crease in the wool of the jacket.

"Yes," he replied. "It'll likely be a couple weeks before I can make it back down."

-

There weren't any fancy restaurants at the end of the world. Nor at the beginning of one, either. Bill knew better than to attempt this at Joe's Bar, though. In fact, he knew better than to attempt asking her in public.

If Laura needed a proper proposal to know he was being serious, than he would just have to give her one. His time aboard Galactica after her initial rejection had given him time to plan.

Now she was giving him a funny look as he lead the way through the trees, as if sensing his intentions. Or perhaps she just found it odd that he was leading the way when she was the one to travel this path regularly. Though, if she knew what was going on maybe this time she would give him a proper answer. Bill felt he deserved an explanation for her two side-stepping basically-but-not-quite 'no's.

"Almost there."

She hummed in acknowledgment. The looks he had caught her giving him vanished when they reached the lake. This place brought a lightness to her smile even he hadn't managed to coax out of her.

For a moment Bill was irrationally jealous.

"Oh," she sighed. "I can't believe I always forget how beautiful this place is."

"Yea," he whispered in response, lowering his pack from his shoulder as he watched her lift her face up into the sun. Bill didn't think he would could ever forget how stunning she was. "C'mon," he called to her, breaking her from her trance. "Let's eat."

She wandered over to where he was unpacking the food onto a fallen log. Her nimble fingers broke off nibbles from his careful packages, and his half-hearted glare at her actions was met with a smile.

"Sit if you're hungry," he gestured towards the ground, slowly removing the last item from his pack.

Laura's attention was immediately diverted to the bottle. "Is that.."

"The last," he proclaimed, pulling out the stopper. "I didn't want to risk bringing glasses though," he confessed.

She laughed, "Straight from the bottle then?"

There wasn't much wine left, but Bill felt tacky having nothing to pour it into. He hesitated a moment, which made Laura sigh.

"Oh, give it here."

He handed the bottle over, and she took a quick sip before setting it on their makeshift table. Her lips quirked up in a slightly bemused looking smile, head tilting slightly to the side, and he felt his stomach tighten.

"Bill," Laura began. "What's going on?"

Of course she realized something was going on. He began to toy with the wedding band on his finger, and her eyes rested there as well. Her shoulders stiffened and her smile vanished.

The gesture angered him, but he did his best to hold his temper in check. "I was being serious, Laura." No need to specify about what.

"Oh."

When she refused to elaborate, he snapped. "That's it? 'Oh?' Can I at least get an answer?"

Her eyes narrowed and he recognized the change in her stance as she steeled herself for a fight.

"The answer is no."

Bill thought he was prepared, but it still hurt to hear those words come from her mouth. He felt his lips tremble as he asked, "Why?"

She closed the small gap between them, hands coming to rest on his biceps. "Bill..."

He could see her eyes still focused on his ring. Was she afraid he was just going to repeat his old mistakes? "The circumstances weren't the best with Carolanne," he tried to explain. "We expected different things, I was gone a-"

"Gone."

The soft spoken word stilled his train of thought. Laura dropped her hand from his arms and the loss of contact felt heavier than her soft weight. She took a step back, head turning slightly away.

"The fleet can’t lose you."

Confused, he waited for her to continue, battling the instinct to move forward and close the distance between them. He felt she would start running if he moved too quickly.

"You shouldn’t be here." Her jaw set, and something inside her seemed to be resolved, for she turned to look back at him. "You're needed there, Admiral, on Galactica, and while there's any remaining threat from the cylons that’s where you’ll stay."

The use of his title jarred him, and he took a moment to recover. "I'm here. I’m here and I'm with you. That's what I'm asking for Laura, you."

“Your responsibility to these people comes before anything else. That’s where your thoughts need to be.” She closed her eyes and took a breath. "Not with me, not with us. That just can't happen, not now." Laura opened her eyes, letting her words hang in the air a moment before adding, “we shouldn’t have happened.”

Not here. Another false promise dying in the harsh New Caprican terrain.

Bill spent the next three days of his shore leave in the visiting officers tent.

-

It was Saul, muttering about his promise of settlement to Ellen, that drove Bill back down to the surface.

He didn't think promising to take off his admiral's mantle would work with Laura. Besides, he wouldn't lie to her and say he would attempt it in the first place. It was something that had sunken into him, past the uniform and deep into his bones. The mutterings of 'Madame President' on the dirty streets of New Caprica told him Laura had a similar tie to her leadership.

Of course, it was that sense of duty that had stalled them. Were they still even a them? He didn't know how to check, so he just showed up at her school.

As the last child drifted out of the canvas schoolhouse, Bill stepped inside.

She looked up from her desk, half-distracted, and he tried to keep the curve of his lip down as he watched the shock come across her face when she finally realized it was him. Laura's body shifted, leaning against her desk, towards him- and her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Deciding this wasn't a rejection, he tied the canvas flap closed behind him. When he turned back around she looking down at her desk again, mindlessly shuffling papers and trying to appear busy.

"I," her voice wavered for a moment, became more controlled as she pressed forward. "I have some things that need to be cleaned up here."

Unsure if this was a dismissal or an invitation back to her tent, Bill did the only thing he could think of and offered to help. She tipped her head in acceptance, but remained quiet as she moved around her desk.

Silently, he assisted her in picking up dusty slates, straightening crooked tables and returning half-tattered books to the slightly crooked shelves. Finished, she moved in front of her desk, leaning against it as she crossed her arms. Bill followed her, leaving a tiny sliver of space between them, which she promptly closed by leaning against his side.

He put his arm around her, fingers curling over hipbone. "I've been thinking."

"Oh?" Despite the tiny smile she gave, he could sense her worry.

"It's a possibility the cylons will come back, we can't avoid this threat by ignoring it."

"No," she agreed tentatively, the hand that wasn't trapped between them moving up to rest on the buttons of his uniform.

"Laura, do you want to marry me?"

"Bill-"

When she tried to pull away he held her to him. "Not will you, do you want to?"

Not bothering to try and struggle, she pressed herself to his chest, forehead resting on his shoulder. He barely caught her whispered 'yes'.

"The cylons might come back, and these people will need us. They're definitely going to need you once they come to their senses and run Baltar out of office." Bill felt, rather than heard, her laugh. "But I need you too, Laura." He tucked her hair behind her ear as she lifted her head to look at him. "And now that I know you want to marry me, I'm going to keep asking until you say yes. Alright?"

"Alright," she smiled.

Bill could feel himself smile in response, "just don't keep me waiting too long." He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. "I still want to be able to really enjoy the honeymoon."

He heard and felt her laughter that time.

-

It was four months before he saw her again.

Colonial One had the rank, underlying scent of cigarette smoke and human sweat. Papers and files were strewn across the seats haphazardly, and there was a bloodstain by the desk, just under the portrait of Baltar. Bill didn't want to spend too much time thinking about who's blood it might be, eyes turning away and scanning the rows of seats.

Laura had taken one by the window, legs tucked under her, hands gripping the armrests as if she might drift away were she to let go. The mess on the floor under her told Bill she had simply knocked papers to the ground in order to make room for herself. He would have teased her for her uncharacteristic messiness if his voice hadn't been stolen away from the joy of seeing her alive.

The off-white sweater was crooked over her shirt, her hair was longer then he remembered, as well as unbrushed and he could see a stain on the knee of her jeans, but none of that mattered. She was alive. Alive, and his eyes told him, whole and in front of him. His heart ached a little though, knowing something undoubtedly was taken from her down on that planet. But he hoped. He hoped that...

Laura turned away from the window and caught sight of him.

Their eyes held, and for a moment, neither moved.

Then Laura pushed herself up from the chair, untangling her legs so that her feet could reach the floor. She tripped on one of the discarded folders on the ground, and Bill stepped forward, though he was too far away to reach her. She managed to catch herself on the back of a chair and hopped over the rest of the mess in order to reach the aisle, then him. Despite her initial haste, she stopped short of reaching him.

Not giving time for any thought to form in their heads, Bill closed the gap and wrapped his arms around her.

"Missed you," he rasped into her hair.

Her body began to shake with sobs, and he could feel her fingers digging into his skin as she clutched his jacket.

"Again," she whispered, burying her nose in the crook of his neck to breath him in. "Ask me again."

-

There was still much to learn about New Caprica, and the healing hadn't truly yet begun.

Watching Laura, eyes shining as she repeated the words from the priest, with the white of her clothes seeming to reflect her own radiance out into the world, Bill began to feel that it might have just started. He fought his own smile as she finished, barely noticing the priest lower the scrolls and step back.

As Laura moved to the podium, newly reinstated as President and ready to address the people, she caught his eye. He knew she was thinking of their own vows, made just days earlier.

He couldn't hold back his smile then, and turned his eyes aside as she began to address the crowd. Bill kept his hands clasped together so that they wouldn't stray up, tempted to brush his lips at the memory of hers there as they claimed each other as spouses.

He had found a priest before she had found the time to shower, but neither had really cared. Her hands had been soft in gripping his bandaged one, and he had to hold himself back from clinging to her, fearful he might leave bruises in his desperation to never let her go again. The priest had barely finished tying their wrists together before Laura leaned onto her toes and crashed her lips against his.

It had been a little awkward, and they’d had to work with the knot holding them together in order to maintain their balance, but both had managed to stay upright. When she’d pulled back she let her lips brush against his cheek, and he quickly leaned forward to seal the smile on her face with a soft kiss of his own.

-

laura roslin, bsg, w adama, fanfiction

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