Fic: Scraps
Title: Scraps
Rating: T
Word Count: ~500
Disclaimer: don't own them.
Summary: Bill cleans out Laura's desk drawer as he's packing their things for the move to the Basestar.
A/N: Thanks to lanalucy for the speedy beta. *hugs*
The books had been loaded into boxes along with the rest of their worldly possessions. The time had come to pack up their desk. His fingers grazed Laura’s drawer before opening it. He ignored the pang of guilt of violating her space. She’d made it clear it was theirs, just like everything else they shared. He’d made it equally clear that he respected her privacy, as she had always respected his. But love and faith wouldn’t change the fact that she would never set foot in their home again, never be able to sit long enough to pack up her desk. So, the duty had fallen to him, and if he found anything essential to the Presidency, he would be give it to Lee - that seemed natural too.
He pulled the drawer open. At first glance, he saw what he expected: a binder, a few folders, a note in a sealed envelope. He reached for it. Lee’s name was written on the front, underlined twice - it was probably for when he officially took the Oath of Office. He set it aside, and packed the folders and binders in a box for him. (If Laura felt up to it, he would ask what her wishes were for them.) Then his gaze was arrested by something he didn’t expect.
Slips of paper. Different sizes and shapes. The ink on some of them had bled through. What did she write on them? He reached for one. It had his name and “cabin” underlined.
Another read “Kara: Not believing her - and shooting her.”
She hadn’t had time discuss regrets. She, like he, had had to keep moving forward, making the best decisions possible and living with the results. But she’d apparently kept track of all of her regrets nonetheless. They’d been near her at all times, and he hadn’t known. He wiped his eyes.
He grabbed an empty box and threw the slips in it. He didn’t unfold them, didn’t read them. They were hers and hers alone; if she had wanted to share them, she would have. However, as he neared the bottom of the drawer, another slip was open. “Turning Adama’s children against him.”
He shook his head. He’d long since forgiven her that - and anything else. But he wouldn’t have expected to find it among the others. She had been so resistant to his forgiveness on Kobol, so self-assured. What state had she been in when she’d written this? The paper was more ragged than the others. Perhaps she’d written it on Kobol’s surface. Or after she’d learned he’d been shot.
So many possibilities, so many facets to the woman he’d fought with and alongside, loved so fiercely, and lived with for five years. So much he would never know.
He placed the last of the slips into the box and closed the lid, then grabbed her book and exited what he would probably always think of as their office..
He would never know everything, but he knew she loved mysteries, him, and their family, and that had always been enough.
Rating: T
Word Count: ~500
Disclaimer: don't own them.
Summary: Bill cleans out Laura's desk drawer as he's packing their things for the move to the Basestar.
A/N: Thanks to lanalucy for the speedy beta. *hugs*
The books had been loaded into boxes along with the rest of their worldly possessions. The time had come to pack up their desk. His fingers grazed Laura’s drawer before opening it. He ignored the pang of guilt of violating her space. She’d made it clear it was theirs, just like everything else they shared. He’d made it equally clear that he respected her privacy, as she had always respected his. But love and faith wouldn’t change the fact that she would never set foot in their home again, never be able to sit long enough to pack up her desk. So, the duty had fallen to him, and if he found anything essential to the Presidency, he would be give it to Lee - that seemed natural too.
He pulled the drawer open. At first glance, he saw what he expected: a binder, a few folders, a note in a sealed envelope. He reached for it. Lee’s name was written on the front, underlined twice - it was probably for when he officially took the Oath of Office. He set it aside, and packed the folders and binders in a box for him. (If Laura felt up to it, he would ask what her wishes were for them.) Then his gaze was arrested by something he didn’t expect.
Slips of paper. Different sizes and shapes. The ink on some of them had bled through. What did she write on them? He reached for one. It had his name and “cabin” underlined.
Another read “Kara: Not believing her - and shooting her.”
She hadn’t had time discuss regrets. She, like he, had had to keep moving forward, making the best decisions possible and living with the results. But she’d apparently kept track of all of her regrets nonetheless. They’d been near her at all times, and he hadn’t known. He wiped his eyes.
He grabbed an empty box and threw the slips in it. He didn’t unfold them, didn’t read them. They were hers and hers alone; if she had wanted to share them, she would have. However, as he neared the bottom of the drawer, another slip was open. “Turning Adama’s children against him.”
He shook his head. He’d long since forgiven her that - and anything else. But he wouldn’t have expected to find it among the others. She had been so resistant to his forgiveness on Kobol, so self-assured. What state had she been in when she’d written this? The paper was more ragged than the others. Perhaps she’d written it on Kobol’s surface. Or after she’d learned he’d been shot.
So many possibilities, so many facets to the woman he’d fought with and alongside, loved so fiercely, and lived with for five years. So much he would never know.
He placed the last of the slips into the box and closed the lid, then grabbed her book and exited what he would probably always think of as their office..
He would never know everything, but he knew she loved mysteries, him, and their family, and that had always been enough.