Laura Roslin Day
Title: Laura Roslin Day
Author: theastolat
Pairing: A/R
Rating: PG
Summary: Bill’s birthday gift better be a good one.
Until stepping off the Raptor and onto solid ground, hearing the satisfying crunch of rubber soles into fine, dry dirt, Bill had not known how bright the sky would be. It looked a very pale blue, of course, through the visor. A muted colour, like an old photograph faded over time.
Standing beneath it now required his immediate lifting of a hand, and just to see who it was standing not several feet from him, his eyes screwed almost shut in a tense squint. He took a few blind steps forward before recognizing the voice of his welcome party.
“Been in the Bucket too long, Old Man.” With this introduction the shape of a vibrant young woman came into focus through the dazzling daylight. His memory of her compared in only small ways. She stood, thumbs in pockets and lips in a twist while a wind took the locks of her hair and moved them gently so Bill could see the time that had passed, and the living she had done that had turned her from a brash young soldier into a woman of humble sophistication.
There was a steadiness to her gaze Bill identified as contentment. That alone was what surprised him the most. That was what made him most proud.
He thought of telling her that she no longer had the right to call him that, let alone insult his ship, but even as he did he realized that he would always feel as though she had never left. She would always be his Starbuck. No amount of time or distance was going to make him feel any different.
Bill hefted his carry bag more comfortably on his shoulder and beamed at her. “Maybe you’d be kind and direct an old man to some shade.”
Kara snorted and turned so he could walk beside her. As she led him through the growing settlement, Bill couldn’t stop imagining the positions of his battlestars. Catching himself, it amused him how nervous he felt to be walking on solid ground again, under a real sky, breathing real air. It felt unnatural.
The little town of tents had grown considerably since the Ground Breaking ceremony; the last time he had been on New Caprica. For that he felt a nagging shame. It was no different to the shame he felt not being on Galactica. If anything were to happen while he were away from his ship, unable to defend this little floating spacerock the last of his people fought so tirelessly to find and call home, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.
On the other hand, there were people living in this blooming city he missed. He felt terrible for not visiting more often. All his life he’d felt torn between two places. In a strange way, he’d felt more lost not feeling that way since the Cylon attack. There was no home to feel torn from while he lived on Galactica. Serving on the old Battlestar, he’d always felt anchored to Caprica, to his home, with a chain that grew from his heart to his front doorstep, expanding for any distance and tugging, just that little bit more when he travelled further away, the chain rolling inward when he journeyed back.
That chain was snapped the day the Cylons attacked the Colonies. There was no more ceremony to it than that. It didn’t shatter, it wasn’t even severed clean through. One link in the chain was pulled tight and broke, making a shallow noise Bill likened to snapping chalk.
In the years he was guide and defender of the fleet, he imagined Galactica drifting like a noble beast through water and from it a miserable length of chain, cold and useless. It wouldn’t reel in. His heart wouldn’t work that way. And he couldn’t bring himself to cut it free completely. There would be those few links left inside him that he couldn’t get to, and he would feel them, and be reminded not of home, but that feeling of having a home to be away from.
Now that chain was firmly attached to this tiny planet, bolted into the dust. Unused to the feeling, the strain and relief, the tug and reel, exhausted Bill’s heart and it could be so painful tears would sting in his eyes.
He was careful no one was around to see, like he was careful to let no one catch him out of breath. It was a man thing. Saul cried openly about anything. But he did it with such a scowl on his face and his jaws and fists clenched with such intensity he could still look ten times the man Bill felt.
“So what you get her?”
Bill was watching the ground, absorbing the white-washed sand and thinking how different it was to the cold metal floors of Galactica’s corridors. He never thought he would appreciate dust so much in his life. Seeing the same scenery over and over, every waking moment presented with the same colours, the same smells, even feeling the same textures, Bill was a care away from getting down on his knees and just running his hands through the dirt, bringing it up to his face and rubbing it over his skin. It wouldn’t be called appropriate Admiral behaviour and there would be staring.
“Hm?” Bill needed to hear the question again. Not because he had not heard it the first time. Not because he had not comprehended the meaning. He had missed Kara’s voice and unconsciously, it was the quickest way to prompt her into speaking again.
“Some sort of book, right?” Kara smiled.
Bill cringed. “I’m that predictable?”
Kara chuckled. “She is.”
Bill appreciated the opportunity to share a joke with his former Captain. “Actually, it’s a...”
“Admiral Adama, Sir!”
Up ahead was an arm sticking in the air with an open hand. Beneath it was the cheerful face of Galen Tyrol. In only a few strides he grew from a small figure in the distance to a towering presence that offered Bill relief from the blinding haze of the sky.
“Chief,” Bill greeted him, wondering if it showed in his odd grimace that he had caught himself on the cusp of a very unmanly embrace.
His former deck chief, however, was quite assured of his masculine physique and opened his broad arms at an inviting angle. An awkward laugh spluttered between Bill’s teeth. Oddly coordinating his arms to accept the hug, Bill was sure Kara was witnessing the clumsiest display of affection two men could share.
Chief smacked rhythmically on his back before they separated and exchanged cautious smiles. Kara remained silent, letting whatever lewd remarks that observed their ridiculous encounter filter silently through the corner of a fond smirk.
“Well,” Chief chirped, dropping his arms against his sides. “See you at the party.”
Bill had a verbal response stumble and trip over his teeth so he just waved and, when the man was a smaller figure in the distance once more, promptly pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.
The look on Kara’s face didn’t help.
“Don’t start,” he warned.
Kara began to walk again, keeping their pace slower than before. “We’re still the same people we were on Galactica,” she insisted.
“You might think so,” Bill said, “But I can see the changes in all of you. Little things. Beautiful things.” It slipped out as he admired proudly the woman who accompanied him and made Kara grin.
“Chief is looking more beautiful every day,” she agreed, nodding.
Bill laughed. If this was how he was going to behave around these kids he was desperately concerned at meeting Laura again.
Kara sensed his nerves and made an attempt to reassure him. “You’re always gonna be the same Old Man.”
Bill smiled, but remained doubtful. There was much Kara didn’t know about him. There was a lot of his past that could not be looked upon with any ounce of pride or justification, and certainly indicated that Bill was not unchanging.
In the brief stretch of time a silence allowed him, the aged Admiral reflected on this, ending abruptly, however, to address a look of concern on Kara’s face. He didn’t want the girl thinking she had failed to cheer him up.
“Too late for an old dog like me is it?” he said.
Kara smirked. “Oh I dunno. Sure Laura could teach you some new tricks.”
If the look on Bill’s face wasn’t quite that degree of alarm she had hoped for, Laura’s elegant laughter behind him near perfected it.
Bill spun, bent at the lower limbs like a Pyramid player braced for a tackle. A hand clutched over his heart and he grimaced. Having nothing clever to say that would deflect attention, Bill simply met Laura’s amused gaze and returned it with a shy smile.
In the unrelenting daylight Laura was breathtaking. She was a woman meant to be worshipped by the sun and finally, they had found one to adore her. Every subtle movement she made captured the atmosphere and sent back light and warmth to any who saw her. Even in Bill’s dreams she had never been more beautiful. Suddenly he felt very pathetic.
He coughed and straightened gingerly as Kara moved to Laura’s side. She leaned into her, brow low and said, “Be gentle. I don’t think all this fresh air is good for him.”
Bill might have fainted right there but graciously, he remained conscious to see the mischievous curve on Laura’s lips.
“I thought I’d just take the old dog for a walk,” she said.
Bill wondered if the women were engaged in some competition to see who could make him the most red.
“Well he won’t get very far with all this weighing him down,” Kara said. It took a while for Bill to register the girl’s offer to take his bag. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring it to the party.”
Bill looked at Laura suddenly, anxious she had heard what Kara had said. Laura hadn’t reacted with any degree of curiosity.
In a bit of a daze, Bill let Kara take his bag, and then with a wave, she was off.
Laura turned and began walking slowly so Bill shuffled to her side.
“You know about the party?” he asked. He’d believed for a while that it was supposed to be a surprise.
Laura hummed, and Bill thought there was something dangerous in her tone. For a fleeting moment he feared being alone with her.
“It’s hard to keep anything a secret down here. Everyone is too excited to stay quiet. Emotions are still running high. Everyone has boundless energy,” Laura said, watching the ground and, perhaps, their feet walking in step together.
Bill laughed in agreement. “Oh I can hardly keep up with you.”
The woman made a noise like music and touched his arm. She was sighing as Bill felt his chest inflate for making her laugh.
He felt fourteen. Shy and awkward and physically disproportionate. Laura was everything that lay beyond his world. That place out of reach. That wondrous place, where magic happened and realities were blurred.
Because she was that magic he had believed in as a child. Laura was all the things that amazed him, perplexed him, stunned and astonished him, all the things he would be forever enthralled by. He had forgotten those feelings. He had all but forsaken those feelings before meeting her. It was not that she had cast a spell on him. She was the spell. She was the magic.
And he was a fat slob sitting around in space waiting for evil robots to attack. He should at least be spending the down time getting in shape. He was thinking of a regime when Laura spoke again and he realized they had travelled quite far while his mind had wandered.
“The Cylons can’t really be gone, can they.”
There was no question to her tone. But there was no defeat either.
“They aren’t gone. They just aren’t here,” Bill said, hoping this was what she wanted to hear.
“Hmm,” she said. Though not a word, Bill understood the meaning behind it. “I assume there are plans in place.”
“We don’t have to talk about Cylons, Laura,” Bill said. He looked skyward, grimacing at the light, and pictured Cylon Raiders bursting through the atmosphere.
“No. I suppose it is ruining a perfectly good day.” She broke ahead, finding the edge of the settlement where a sliver of unmoving water came to a sandy inlet.
The horizon was so still, lifeless. But gradually, as Bill watched, it began to glow and shimmer with soul. He stood back, watching, and smiled because it was from Laura that this spirit came from, as though her mere presence caused slow ripples to spread and bless the land with a stirring beauty.
He walked up to her side. “It’s beautiful.”
He was surprised by the small laugh she gave. “Is it? I think it looks rather bleak.”
She was surely wrong, and Bill checked urgently, desperately even, because he couldn’t bear her seeing anything less than something wonderful.
Laura’s delicate laughter fluttered against his ear again and he nearly jumped when he felt something against his hand. It was Laura’s hand taking hold of him and pulling him away. He might have protested if he were not so shocked by how soft it was, how tiny, and how incredible it felt cradled comfortably in his palm and fingers. His giant, inelegant hand.
“I miss shells,” she said, walking him along the sand.
Bill looked down and saw instead of shells, tiny grains of dirt and bark and small stones sunken into the dull grey sand.
“I used to collect them when I was younger.”
Bill was only half paying attention. With all his focus, the intensity he exhibited when standing in CIC, eyes fixed on the consoles, watching enemy ships on the dradis, calculating strategies, waiting for the slightest window of opportunity for an attack that needed to be precise or would fail, Bill was scanning the ground for a shell.
“I wanted to bring the children here to collect shells. Every child should experience the wonder of collected shells just once. I mentioned it in class...I was talking about the ocean, how we needed to find a planet with water, and my thoughts drifted. I didn’t realize what I’d been saying until a little girl asked me what a shell was...Bill?”
Bill vaguely heard his name.
“Bill!”
He stopped, and looked up. Laura was no longer beside him. He spun around and was relieved to see her standing only a few steps behind him. His heart had leapt. He needed to relax. Laura came to catch up with him.
“Glad you find my ramblings so interesting,” she teased.
“No, I...I was...” There was a simple explanation and yet he couldn’t bring it out of his useless mouth.
“You were looking for shells.” When she said this her eyes were shining, glittering the way shallow waters sparkled under afternoon sunlight. Bill felt his heart clench and he swallowed, suddenly out of breath.
“Come on,” Laura said, a smirk on her lips. She took his hand again and turned them back away from the little inlet and out towards long grass. Here they had to trudge, and footing was not found easily. They were walking across the edge of thick, dark trees, their branches long and twisted, woven into a vicious net through which Bill imagined every terror waiting to devour them.
But Laura treaded gracefully from tree to tree, her fingertips brushing lovingly against coarse bark, as though she were old friends with these terrible giants and had come to greet them again. Bill had trouble keeping up with her and panicked when he saw her disappear into the darkness.
“Laura?” He quickened his pace to catch up with her but she had already been dozens of steps in front of him. His lungs were burning. His legs felt heavy. This was not his most impressive performance.
“Laura?” All of a sudden he had reached the edge of the trees where the grass breached them and continued like a path into the woods. Laura was standing some distance along, waiting with her fingers over an endearing grin.
When Bill finally reached her she said, “Am I too fast for you?”
“Protecting the rear,” he said.
A slender eyebrow quirked under a lock of waving red hair. “Oh?” She turned, letting her upper body twist deliberately so that her ass would linger in his view and he would be staring as she walked away.
Bill did stare. But there was less light and he was anxious about losing sight of her. So he scurried after her, grateful the terrain was less rugged. Shortly after Laura’s motivations became clear. There were all sorts of interesting plant life growing in this cold, dim place. She was searching, prying deep into thickets and brambles hoping to uncover some shape or texture that excited the child she had hoped to rediscover on this land.
Laura said nothing as she searched, and Bill kept close, but didn’t interfere. The natural path came soon to an ascending slope and ended. Bill followed Laura back along the strange tunnel, finding that when they stepped out again, the sky was darker and that the air was colder.
Laura hugged herself and smiled at him. Without words she approached, and gently bumping against his shoulder, he instinctively wrapped an arm around her. She sighed into his embrace and like that they returned to the settlement.
The noise from the bar gushed out from under the tarp walls, swirling and bubbling around their feet. Bill held back the tent flap for her and Laura went in. Screeching and laughter hit Bill smack in the face. The air was hot and dry and the smells were rich and bitter.
As he looked around he could see the boundless energy Laura had talked about, and when the kids saw Laura, there were cheers and drinks were lifted and spilled.
To Bill’s relief, Kara appeared. “Hey, you two. Have a nice walk?” She elbowed Bill in the rib and he grunted. “We saved you seats over here.”
They followed her indication to a couple of chairs around a large table made by pushing other smaller tables together.
Drinks arrived as soon as they sat down. Bill watched Laura knock glasses with Kara and scull. She kept up with the former Viper jock for impressive gulps before relenting, and Kara went on to finish and slam her glass down to roars and hooting.
Laura was laughing, Bill realized, more than he’d ever seen her laugh. It shocked him. He had known, of course, that she exercised immeasurable restraint while she’d been President, keeping her public figure activated every waking hour. And he could imagined now how exhausting it must have been. Because what he saw now was incredible. This laughing, cheering woman, reckless and obnoxious, cheering and chanting and tossing drinks like she performed some wild dance, this woman must have been locked up inside, and only now unleashed.
Bill, laughing along with the others, cried inside. Tears streamed silver rivulets down his soul. Now, in his memories, he realized that when he thought he had seen Laura happy, he had not. Not even close. When she had smiled, she had been tired and miserable. The Laura he had known was not Laura at all, but a cage keeping a dear and beautiful woman prisoner.
One moment, perhaps, he had seen a spark of it. When Chief had revealed Laura’s name on the Blackbird, the simple gesture had injected life long withheld, and that small, temporary boost gave her the strength to pull and tug on her chains, to bend the bars aside if only by millimetres.
Bill remembered all this and laughed harder, because he was crying more.
“Every...everybody! Can I have your attention!”
Felix Gaeta was standing, if that, but not everyone had noticed. There were still pots of enthusiastic chatter about the bar, and Racetrack got up on the table and screamed, “Everyone! Shut the frak up!”
When she had everyone’s attention, she turned to Gaeta. “The little lap dog has something to say.”
Gaeta seemed only flattered by the laughter and he cleared his throat. Bill watched Laura cross her legs and settle at a better angle to see Gaeta. Bill was captured by the bare calf he could now see.
“Today is a special day,” Gaeta began, only slightly affected by the drinks he had consumed. “Today, we have come to celebrate a woman we all know...and respect.”
Laura looked sceptical, and Kara grinned at her, but the crowds still uttered words of agreement.
“Because for two years she was our leader. She was our guide. After the Cylons attacked us, destroyed our homes, left us with nothing, she gathered us together, saved everyone she could, and it was because of this that we were able to fend off further Cylon attacks.”
There were grunts of agreement at that, firm sounds, proud sounds. The smile on Laura’s face was softer and her head rested at a humble tilt.
“We survived because of her,” Gaeta went on, “We are here today because she,” the man lowered his head, as though weighted down by the massive grin that broke across his face. “Because she had the balls of steel to stand up to Bill Adama!”
Cheers and laughter erupted. Laura turned her head to Bill and shrugged. It was entirely true. Everything had happened exactly the way Gaeta told it. Bill wasn’t ashamed or humiliated by this. He was grateful. He applauded with the others.
“Seriously, Sir,” Gaeta, lifted his drink at Bill and Bill sat expectantly. “It was an honour serving with you and if it makes you feel any better, I don’t have the balls to stand up to you.”
“We don’t doubt that,” Kara said, and the pilots, current and retired, laughed freely.
“Alright, alright,” Gaeta said, pleading for silence again. “Anyway, as I was saying...We are all here today to celebrate the birthday of an incredible, courageous, and...very beautiful woman.”
“That means a lot coming from you, Felix,” Laura said, and Kara snorted and slapped her knee as the rest of the assembly laughed and nudged each other.
“So!” Gaeta cried, demanding attention again, “By the power vested in me by-”
“A severe lack in judgement,” someone, possibly Racetrack, interrupted to the exceeding amusement of all.
Gaeta nodded, smiling thinly but genuinely, and lifted his hand. “Yeah, yeah. By the power vested in me by a man who might prove to be the universe’s greatest fool,” and he sobered himself briefly. “I declare this Laura Roslin Day.”
Bill saw something happen. The eyes of that boy and Laura’s held each other and they alone became still. Bill watched it, feeling troubled, like the two were posing for a portrait while some unseen hands scribbled something in their fate.
“Happy birthday.” Gaeta lifted his glass. Everyone cheered and drank and the party lasted well into the night. Lee eventually showed up also, to give Laura a hug, but after exchanging a look with Kara excused himself once more.
Bill walked Laura back to her tent. When they finally reached her door she turned to him.
“So what did you get me?” she asked.
Bill smiled.
“Gaeta got me a whole day. Your gift better be good,” she went on, smiling childishly.
Kara had returned his bag to him before she had left to take her pleasantly drunken husband home. Bill dug into his bag.
“It’s not nearly as good I’m afraid,” he said.
Laura pouted and sighed in disappointment. But she still accepted the small package Bill handed to her. She unwrapped it and then inspected it curiously, turning it about in her hands before flipping through it.
“It’s a diary,” Bill said.
Laura looked up at him. Not even her school children had much paper to write freely on and here, in her hands, was a small, beautifully bound book full of empty pages just waiting for her to impress upon them all the thoughts that bloomed and blossomed in her head.
“I had one of my empty log books converted. I’m sorry it looks a bit frayed but I wanted to cut it down to a more...appropriate size,” Bill explained, already beaming at the look of delight on Laura’s face.
Laura held the small book to her chest, clutched in her hands, cherished. There might have been tears in her eyes, or it was just the affect of the alcohol.
Laura sighed and composed herself. She clucked her tongue and angled her gaze. “Laura Roslin Day was cooler.”
Bill snorted. “Yeah, it was.”
She pulled back the flap of her tent and lingered just inside. “Goodnight, Bill.”
“Night, Laura. Happy birthday.”
The tarp closed slowly on her smile and Bill went back to Galactica, feeling the chain pulling happily on his heart.
Author: theastolat
Pairing: A/R
Rating: PG
Summary: Bill’s birthday gift better be a good one.
Until stepping off the Raptor and onto solid ground, hearing the satisfying crunch of rubber soles into fine, dry dirt, Bill had not known how bright the sky would be. It looked a very pale blue, of course, through the visor. A muted colour, like an old photograph faded over time.
Standing beneath it now required his immediate lifting of a hand, and just to see who it was standing not several feet from him, his eyes screwed almost shut in a tense squint. He took a few blind steps forward before recognizing the voice of his welcome party.
“Been in the Bucket too long, Old Man.” With this introduction the shape of a vibrant young woman came into focus through the dazzling daylight. His memory of her compared in only small ways. She stood, thumbs in pockets and lips in a twist while a wind took the locks of her hair and moved them gently so Bill could see the time that had passed, and the living she had done that had turned her from a brash young soldier into a woman of humble sophistication.
There was a steadiness to her gaze Bill identified as contentment. That alone was what surprised him the most. That was what made him most proud.
He thought of telling her that she no longer had the right to call him that, let alone insult his ship, but even as he did he realized that he would always feel as though she had never left. She would always be his Starbuck. No amount of time or distance was going to make him feel any different.
Bill hefted his carry bag more comfortably on his shoulder and beamed at her. “Maybe you’d be kind and direct an old man to some shade.”
Kara snorted and turned so he could walk beside her. As she led him through the growing settlement, Bill couldn’t stop imagining the positions of his battlestars. Catching himself, it amused him how nervous he felt to be walking on solid ground again, under a real sky, breathing real air. It felt unnatural.
The little town of tents had grown considerably since the Ground Breaking ceremony; the last time he had been on New Caprica. For that he felt a nagging shame. It was no different to the shame he felt not being on Galactica. If anything were to happen while he were away from his ship, unable to defend this little floating spacerock the last of his people fought so tirelessly to find and call home, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.
On the other hand, there were people living in this blooming city he missed. He felt terrible for not visiting more often. All his life he’d felt torn between two places. In a strange way, he’d felt more lost not feeling that way since the Cylon attack. There was no home to feel torn from while he lived on Galactica. Serving on the old Battlestar, he’d always felt anchored to Caprica, to his home, with a chain that grew from his heart to his front doorstep, expanding for any distance and tugging, just that little bit more when he travelled further away, the chain rolling inward when he journeyed back.
That chain was snapped the day the Cylons attacked the Colonies. There was no more ceremony to it than that. It didn’t shatter, it wasn’t even severed clean through. One link in the chain was pulled tight and broke, making a shallow noise Bill likened to snapping chalk.
In the years he was guide and defender of the fleet, he imagined Galactica drifting like a noble beast through water and from it a miserable length of chain, cold and useless. It wouldn’t reel in. His heart wouldn’t work that way. And he couldn’t bring himself to cut it free completely. There would be those few links left inside him that he couldn’t get to, and he would feel them, and be reminded not of home, but that feeling of having a home to be away from.
Now that chain was firmly attached to this tiny planet, bolted into the dust. Unused to the feeling, the strain and relief, the tug and reel, exhausted Bill’s heart and it could be so painful tears would sting in his eyes.
He was careful no one was around to see, like he was careful to let no one catch him out of breath. It was a man thing. Saul cried openly about anything. But he did it with such a scowl on his face and his jaws and fists clenched with such intensity he could still look ten times the man Bill felt.
“So what you get her?”
Bill was watching the ground, absorbing the white-washed sand and thinking how different it was to the cold metal floors of Galactica’s corridors. He never thought he would appreciate dust so much in his life. Seeing the same scenery over and over, every waking moment presented with the same colours, the same smells, even feeling the same textures, Bill was a care away from getting down on his knees and just running his hands through the dirt, bringing it up to his face and rubbing it over his skin. It wouldn’t be called appropriate Admiral behaviour and there would be staring.
“Hm?” Bill needed to hear the question again. Not because he had not heard it the first time. Not because he had not comprehended the meaning. He had missed Kara’s voice and unconsciously, it was the quickest way to prompt her into speaking again.
“Some sort of book, right?” Kara smiled.
Bill cringed. “I’m that predictable?”
Kara chuckled. “She is.”
Bill appreciated the opportunity to share a joke with his former Captain. “Actually, it’s a...”
“Admiral Adama, Sir!”
Up ahead was an arm sticking in the air with an open hand. Beneath it was the cheerful face of Galen Tyrol. In only a few strides he grew from a small figure in the distance to a towering presence that offered Bill relief from the blinding haze of the sky.
“Chief,” Bill greeted him, wondering if it showed in his odd grimace that he had caught himself on the cusp of a very unmanly embrace.
His former deck chief, however, was quite assured of his masculine physique and opened his broad arms at an inviting angle. An awkward laugh spluttered between Bill’s teeth. Oddly coordinating his arms to accept the hug, Bill was sure Kara was witnessing the clumsiest display of affection two men could share.
Chief smacked rhythmically on his back before they separated and exchanged cautious smiles. Kara remained silent, letting whatever lewd remarks that observed their ridiculous encounter filter silently through the corner of a fond smirk.
“Well,” Chief chirped, dropping his arms against his sides. “See you at the party.”
Bill had a verbal response stumble and trip over his teeth so he just waved and, when the man was a smaller figure in the distance once more, promptly pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.
The look on Kara’s face didn’t help.
“Don’t start,” he warned.
Kara began to walk again, keeping their pace slower than before. “We’re still the same people we were on Galactica,” she insisted.
“You might think so,” Bill said, “But I can see the changes in all of you. Little things. Beautiful things.” It slipped out as he admired proudly the woman who accompanied him and made Kara grin.
“Chief is looking more beautiful every day,” she agreed, nodding.
Bill laughed. If this was how he was going to behave around these kids he was desperately concerned at meeting Laura again.
Kara sensed his nerves and made an attempt to reassure him. “You’re always gonna be the same Old Man.”
Bill smiled, but remained doubtful. There was much Kara didn’t know about him. There was a lot of his past that could not be looked upon with any ounce of pride or justification, and certainly indicated that Bill was not unchanging.
In the brief stretch of time a silence allowed him, the aged Admiral reflected on this, ending abruptly, however, to address a look of concern on Kara’s face. He didn’t want the girl thinking she had failed to cheer him up.
“Too late for an old dog like me is it?” he said.
Kara smirked. “Oh I dunno. Sure Laura could teach you some new tricks.”
If the look on Bill’s face wasn’t quite that degree of alarm she had hoped for, Laura’s elegant laughter behind him near perfected it.
Bill spun, bent at the lower limbs like a Pyramid player braced for a tackle. A hand clutched over his heart and he grimaced. Having nothing clever to say that would deflect attention, Bill simply met Laura’s amused gaze and returned it with a shy smile.
In the unrelenting daylight Laura was breathtaking. She was a woman meant to be worshipped by the sun and finally, they had found one to adore her. Every subtle movement she made captured the atmosphere and sent back light and warmth to any who saw her. Even in Bill’s dreams she had never been more beautiful. Suddenly he felt very pathetic.
He coughed and straightened gingerly as Kara moved to Laura’s side. She leaned into her, brow low and said, “Be gentle. I don’t think all this fresh air is good for him.”
Bill might have fainted right there but graciously, he remained conscious to see the mischievous curve on Laura’s lips.
“I thought I’d just take the old dog for a walk,” she said.
Bill wondered if the women were engaged in some competition to see who could make him the most red.
“Well he won’t get very far with all this weighing him down,” Kara said. It took a while for Bill to register the girl’s offer to take his bag. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring it to the party.”
Bill looked at Laura suddenly, anxious she had heard what Kara had said. Laura hadn’t reacted with any degree of curiosity.
In a bit of a daze, Bill let Kara take his bag, and then with a wave, she was off.
Laura turned and began walking slowly so Bill shuffled to her side.
“You know about the party?” he asked. He’d believed for a while that it was supposed to be a surprise.
Laura hummed, and Bill thought there was something dangerous in her tone. For a fleeting moment he feared being alone with her.
“It’s hard to keep anything a secret down here. Everyone is too excited to stay quiet. Emotions are still running high. Everyone has boundless energy,” Laura said, watching the ground and, perhaps, their feet walking in step together.
Bill laughed in agreement. “Oh I can hardly keep up with you.”
The woman made a noise like music and touched his arm. She was sighing as Bill felt his chest inflate for making her laugh.
He felt fourteen. Shy and awkward and physically disproportionate. Laura was everything that lay beyond his world. That place out of reach. That wondrous place, where magic happened and realities were blurred.
Because she was that magic he had believed in as a child. Laura was all the things that amazed him, perplexed him, stunned and astonished him, all the things he would be forever enthralled by. He had forgotten those feelings. He had all but forsaken those feelings before meeting her. It was not that she had cast a spell on him. She was the spell. She was the magic.
And he was a fat slob sitting around in space waiting for evil robots to attack. He should at least be spending the down time getting in shape. He was thinking of a regime when Laura spoke again and he realized they had travelled quite far while his mind had wandered.
“The Cylons can’t really be gone, can they.”
There was no question to her tone. But there was no defeat either.
“They aren’t gone. They just aren’t here,” Bill said, hoping this was what she wanted to hear.
“Hmm,” she said. Though not a word, Bill understood the meaning behind it. “I assume there are plans in place.”
“We don’t have to talk about Cylons, Laura,” Bill said. He looked skyward, grimacing at the light, and pictured Cylon Raiders bursting through the atmosphere.
“No. I suppose it is ruining a perfectly good day.” She broke ahead, finding the edge of the settlement where a sliver of unmoving water came to a sandy inlet.
The horizon was so still, lifeless. But gradually, as Bill watched, it began to glow and shimmer with soul. He stood back, watching, and smiled because it was from Laura that this spirit came from, as though her mere presence caused slow ripples to spread and bless the land with a stirring beauty.
He walked up to her side. “It’s beautiful.”
He was surprised by the small laugh she gave. “Is it? I think it looks rather bleak.”
She was surely wrong, and Bill checked urgently, desperately even, because he couldn’t bear her seeing anything less than something wonderful.
Laura’s delicate laughter fluttered against his ear again and he nearly jumped when he felt something against his hand. It was Laura’s hand taking hold of him and pulling him away. He might have protested if he were not so shocked by how soft it was, how tiny, and how incredible it felt cradled comfortably in his palm and fingers. His giant, inelegant hand.
“I miss shells,” she said, walking him along the sand.
Bill looked down and saw instead of shells, tiny grains of dirt and bark and small stones sunken into the dull grey sand.
“I used to collect them when I was younger.”
Bill was only half paying attention. With all his focus, the intensity he exhibited when standing in CIC, eyes fixed on the consoles, watching enemy ships on the dradis, calculating strategies, waiting for the slightest window of opportunity for an attack that needed to be precise or would fail, Bill was scanning the ground for a shell.
“I wanted to bring the children here to collect shells. Every child should experience the wonder of collected shells just once. I mentioned it in class...I was talking about the ocean, how we needed to find a planet with water, and my thoughts drifted. I didn’t realize what I’d been saying until a little girl asked me what a shell was...Bill?”
Bill vaguely heard his name.
“Bill!”
He stopped, and looked up. Laura was no longer beside him. He spun around and was relieved to see her standing only a few steps behind him. His heart had leapt. He needed to relax. Laura came to catch up with him.
“Glad you find my ramblings so interesting,” she teased.
“No, I...I was...” There was a simple explanation and yet he couldn’t bring it out of his useless mouth.
“You were looking for shells.” When she said this her eyes were shining, glittering the way shallow waters sparkled under afternoon sunlight. Bill felt his heart clench and he swallowed, suddenly out of breath.
“Come on,” Laura said, a smirk on her lips. She took his hand again and turned them back away from the little inlet and out towards long grass. Here they had to trudge, and footing was not found easily. They were walking across the edge of thick, dark trees, their branches long and twisted, woven into a vicious net through which Bill imagined every terror waiting to devour them.
But Laura treaded gracefully from tree to tree, her fingertips brushing lovingly against coarse bark, as though she were old friends with these terrible giants and had come to greet them again. Bill had trouble keeping up with her and panicked when he saw her disappear into the darkness.
“Laura?” He quickened his pace to catch up with her but she had already been dozens of steps in front of him. His lungs were burning. His legs felt heavy. This was not his most impressive performance.
“Laura?” All of a sudden he had reached the edge of the trees where the grass breached them and continued like a path into the woods. Laura was standing some distance along, waiting with her fingers over an endearing grin.
When Bill finally reached her she said, “Am I too fast for you?”
“Protecting the rear,” he said.
A slender eyebrow quirked under a lock of waving red hair. “Oh?” She turned, letting her upper body twist deliberately so that her ass would linger in his view and he would be staring as she walked away.
Bill did stare. But there was less light and he was anxious about losing sight of her. So he scurried after her, grateful the terrain was less rugged. Shortly after Laura’s motivations became clear. There were all sorts of interesting plant life growing in this cold, dim place. She was searching, prying deep into thickets and brambles hoping to uncover some shape or texture that excited the child she had hoped to rediscover on this land.
Laura said nothing as she searched, and Bill kept close, but didn’t interfere. The natural path came soon to an ascending slope and ended. Bill followed Laura back along the strange tunnel, finding that when they stepped out again, the sky was darker and that the air was colder.
Laura hugged herself and smiled at him. Without words she approached, and gently bumping against his shoulder, he instinctively wrapped an arm around her. She sighed into his embrace and like that they returned to the settlement.
The noise from the bar gushed out from under the tarp walls, swirling and bubbling around their feet. Bill held back the tent flap for her and Laura went in. Screeching and laughter hit Bill smack in the face. The air was hot and dry and the smells were rich and bitter.
As he looked around he could see the boundless energy Laura had talked about, and when the kids saw Laura, there were cheers and drinks were lifted and spilled.
To Bill’s relief, Kara appeared. “Hey, you two. Have a nice walk?” She elbowed Bill in the rib and he grunted. “We saved you seats over here.”
They followed her indication to a couple of chairs around a large table made by pushing other smaller tables together.
Drinks arrived as soon as they sat down. Bill watched Laura knock glasses with Kara and scull. She kept up with the former Viper jock for impressive gulps before relenting, and Kara went on to finish and slam her glass down to roars and hooting.
Laura was laughing, Bill realized, more than he’d ever seen her laugh. It shocked him. He had known, of course, that she exercised immeasurable restraint while she’d been President, keeping her public figure activated every waking hour. And he could imagined now how exhausting it must have been. Because what he saw now was incredible. This laughing, cheering woman, reckless and obnoxious, cheering and chanting and tossing drinks like she performed some wild dance, this woman must have been locked up inside, and only now unleashed.
Bill, laughing along with the others, cried inside. Tears streamed silver rivulets down his soul. Now, in his memories, he realized that when he thought he had seen Laura happy, he had not. Not even close. When she had smiled, she had been tired and miserable. The Laura he had known was not Laura at all, but a cage keeping a dear and beautiful woman prisoner.
One moment, perhaps, he had seen a spark of it. When Chief had revealed Laura’s name on the Blackbird, the simple gesture had injected life long withheld, and that small, temporary boost gave her the strength to pull and tug on her chains, to bend the bars aside if only by millimetres.
Bill remembered all this and laughed harder, because he was crying more.
“Every...everybody! Can I have your attention!”
Felix Gaeta was standing, if that, but not everyone had noticed. There were still pots of enthusiastic chatter about the bar, and Racetrack got up on the table and screamed, “Everyone! Shut the frak up!”
When she had everyone’s attention, she turned to Gaeta. “The little lap dog has something to say.”
Gaeta seemed only flattered by the laughter and he cleared his throat. Bill watched Laura cross her legs and settle at a better angle to see Gaeta. Bill was captured by the bare calf he could now see.
“Today is a special day,” Gaeta began, only slightly affected by the drinks he had consumed. “Today, we have come to celebrate a woman we all know...and respect.”
Laura looked sceptical, and Kara grinned at her, but the crowds still uttered words of agreement.
“Because for two years she was our leader. She was our guide. After the Cylons attacked us, destroyed our homes, left us with nothing, she gathered us together, saved everyone she could, and it was because of this that we were able to fend off further Cylon attacks.”
There were grunts of agreement at that, firm sounds, proud sounds. The smile on Laura’s face was softer and her head rested at a humble tilt.
“We survived because of her,” Gaeta went on, “We are here today because she,” the man lowered his head, as though weighted down by the massive grin that broke across his face. “Because she had the balls of steel to stand up to Bill Adama!”
Cheers and laughter erupted. Laura turned her head to Bill and shrugged. It was entirely true. Everything had happened exactly the way Gaeta told it. Bill wasn’t ashamed or humiliated by this. He was grateful. He applauded with the others.
“Seriously, Sir,” Gaeta, lifted his drink at Bill and Bill sat expectantly. “It was an honour serving with you and if it makes you feel any better, I don’t have the balls to stand up to you.”
“We don’t doubt that,” Kara said, and the pilots, current and retired, laughed freely.
“Alright, alright,” Gaeta said, pleading for silence again. “Anyway, as I was saying...We are all here today to celebrate the birthday of an incredible, courageous, and...very beautiful woman.”
“That means a lot coming from you, Felix,” Laura said, and Kara snorted and slapped her knee as the rest of the assembly laughed and nudged each other.
“So!” Gaeta cried, demanding attention again, “By the power vested in me by-”
“A severe lack in judgement,” someone, possibly Racetrack, interrupted to the exceeding amusement of all.
Gaeta nodded, smiling thinly but genuinely, and lifted his hand. “Yeah, yeah. By the power vested in me by a man who might prove to be the universe’s greatest fool,” and he sobered himself briefly. “I declare this Laura Roslin Day.”
Bill saw something happen. The eyes of that boy and Laura’s held each other and they alone became still. Bill watched it, feeling troubled, like the two were posing for a portrait while some unseen hands scribbled something in their fate.
“Happy birthday.” Gaeta lifted his glass. Everyone cheered and drank and the party lasted well into the night. Lee eventually showed up also, to give Laura a hug, but after exchanging a look with Kara excused himself once more.
Bill walked Laura back to her tent. When they finally reached her door she turned to him.
“So what did you get me?” she asked.
Bill smiled.
“Gaeta got me a whole day. Your gift better be good,” she went on, smiling childishly.
Kara had returned his bag to him before she had left to take her pleasantly drunken husband home. Bill dug into his bag.
“It’s not nearly as good I’m afraid,” he said.
Laura pouted and sighed in disappointment. But she still accepted the small package Bill handed to her. She unwrapped it and then inspected it curiously, turning it about in her hands before flipping through it.
“It’s a diary,” Bill said.
Laura looked up at him. Not even her school children had much paper to write freely on and here, in her hands, was a small, beautifully bound book full of empty pages just waiting for her to impress upon them all the thoughts that bloomed and blossomed in her head.
“I had one of my empty log books converted. I’m sorry it looks a bit frayed but I wanted to cut it down to a more...appropriate size,” Bill explained, already beaming at the look of delight on Laura’s face.
Laura held the small book to her chest, clutched in her hands, cherished. There might have been tears in her eyes, or it was just the affect of the alcohol.
Laura sighed and composed herself. She clucked her tongue and angled her gaze. “Laura Roslin Day was cooler.”
Bill snorted. “Yeah, it was.”
She pulled back the flap of her tent and lingered just inside. “Goodnight, Bill.”
“Night, Laura. Happy birthday.”
The tarp closed slowly on her smile and Bill went back to Galactica, feeling the chain pulling happily on his heart.