Better Left Unsaid (12/12)
Title: Better Left Unsaid (Part 12/12)
Author: snoopy0917
Pairing: Bill Adama/Laura Roslin
Rating: MA
Timeline: Crossroads Part 1 through Escape Velocity
Summary: There were the things Laura Roslin wanted and the things Laura Roslin needed. In a simpler world they would have overlapped. Instead, they stood in stark, irreconcilable conflict.
A/N: Honestly, so many people have had a hand in shaping little parts of this fic, I don’t even know where to start with my gratitude. Huge thanks go to icedteainthebag and i_am_davnee for betaing, and for zaleti and larsfarm77 for reading it through and giving me some insightful comments. And to flamingo55 and unavitasegreta for reading through bits and pieces ages ago and offering opinions. And to tjonesy who with a stray comment a year ago, prompted me to turn this short story into a very long and much more complex one. And a second thank you to i_am_davnee for keeping me sane over the last eight months. It means the world to me.
A/N 2: Honestly, it breaks my heart a little to be posting the last part of this story. It's been with me for so long that I almost don't know what I'll do without it. I love it dearly and I'm truly touched and honored that so many of you have come to enjoy it as well. I most certainly wasn't expecting the response I've received. Thank you all very, very much.
I don’t own the characters. If I did, I’d have a lot more money. However, the story is all mine.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12
Sometimes she couldn’t help but think about the things they would never get a chance to do. The places they would never see. The things they would never try. The fantasies that would stay unfulfilled.
She wanted so much that the cancer would steal from her, long before they finally found Earth. To walk in fresh air again, crisp breeze rumpling her hair, summer sun crisping her skin. To run until her lungs burned and her calves ached, springy grass tickling her soles as she danced barefoot across rich soil. To dive into cool water, feel it sluice across her skin as she swam and drip heavily from her hair as she surfaced. She wanted to see Bill’s smile, hear his laugh as he watched her. As he joined her. As he caught her in his arms and kissed her breathless in the sunshine.
She wanted to frak him in the daylight, unworried about how long they were taking. Wanted to waste hours, days just playing with his body, indulging in lazy, sensual pleasure. She wanted to eat chocolate off his skin and laugh about the sticky streaks and ruined sheets. To let him tear her underwear and not worry about where she’d find more. To kiss him in the corridor, the hangar deck, the CIC, the middle of the frakking street and not care what anyone thought.
Back on New Caprica - half a lifetime ago - they’d been far more irresponsible than they’d like to admit, frakking in all sort of exotic locations. Frakking anywhere they thought they could get away with it. They’d taken turns shoving each other into the nearest place with some pretense of privacy. Against the empty shelves of an abandoned storage locker. Pressed against the wall of the showers in the officers’ washroom. Across the desk in her classroom long after school was dismissed. In an uncomfortable chair in the forgotten Ward Room. On a set of sandbags, pulsing music and raucous laughter masking their cries.
Now they stuck to his rack. His couch if she was feeling adventurous.
Laura couldn’t work her body into the positions she used to. Couldn’t find the strength, the energy, the vitality and athleticism she needed for wild acrobatics. Couldn’t indulge in the variety and creativity and wanton abandon that their imaginations could provide.
It didn't matter. If this was all she could have, she'd take it.
It was good enough.
It was more than that. It was good.
Her back arched off the mattress as his hands massaged up her quivering body. His mouth followed, eagerly nipping and sucking across her collarbone. His tongue stroked across already-sated muscles. Across flesh and skin already begging for more.
She lifted her hands to his head and wound her fingers through his hair. Pulled his lips back to hers and kissed him, deep and demanding. The mattress shifted under her as he repositioned himself. As he planted his knees and lifted her hips, tilting her pelvis towards him, spreading her thighs wide open. As he positioned himself and slowly, carefully, exquisitely pushed inside of her.
“Missed you.”
The words flew out of her as he slid home. She would take them back if they weren’t the absolute truth.
“Me too.”
He broke the kiss, lips reluctantly leaving hers as he lifted his head and looked at her. Watched her eyes widen, her breath catch as he pressed further into her. Her legs lifted to wrap around his, forcing him closer, deeper inside, thighs flexing and pulling until he bottomed out. Until the coarse hairs at the base of his groin tickled and tortured her oversensitive clit.
“Laura…”
His forehead dropped heavily against her shoulder as he gasped for breath. Wet, hot kisses branded her skin, teeth nipping the soft swell of her breasts. His hands gripped her hips, fingers digging too tightly into the too prominent bones as he waited. As she adjusted. As they both struggled for control.
She hummed longingly, body thrumming under his, desire masking her aches and pains and discomforts. Erasing the sore burn of her muscle and leaving only need and want and Bill.
Eager, she flattened her hands against his shoulder blades and dragged them down the thick muscles of his back, groaning as they danced under her touch, his sweaty skin hot enough to sear her palms. She gripped at him, trying to pull him closer, gasping again as his dog tags slid through the dampness pooled between her breasts, cool metal a sharp contrast to their heated flesh. The sparse hair on his chest pricked against her nipples, ripping another pulse of sensation from her impatient nerves.
“Oh gods. Frak me, Bill.”
He kissed her once more, lips tenderly tasting hers, palm warm as he cupped her jaw, fingers stroking softly across her cheek. He hovered for a long moment after breaking the kiss. His brilliant smile on his lips, his whole heart in his eyes. He looked at her like she was the only thing with meaning in the universe. Like he could happily spend the rest of his days here with her. Just like this, tucked away inside their bed, lost inside each other.
The knowledge was overwhelming. It was too much responsibility. Too much reality. Too much to comprehend. It stole her reason, her sense, her ability to breathe.
She never wanted to leave.
Laura closed her eyes and moaned shakily as he began to move.
Bill thrust slowly into her. Lazy hips rolling with hers, filling her with long, thick strokes. She dropped her head back against the pillow, baring her throat to his mouth. Lifting her legs higher to hook around his waist, dragging them up his torso to angle him better. To pull him deeper. To move faster. To find the perfect friction.
“More, Bill,” she moaned breathily.
He chuckled softly, resting his weight on his palms and looking down at her again. Mischief lit his eyes as he shook his head and kissed the tip of her nose.
“Patience, Laura,” He murmured into her skin, lips dropping feathery kisses along her cheek and temple until his lips closed over the delicate shell of her ear. His thrusts lengthened, hips and ass flexing rhythmically as he frakked her. As he teased her, a firm palm claiming her thigh, pushing and massaging at the muscle, guiding her into his long, slow tempo.
She shook her head, threading her fingers in his hair and kissing blindly across his neck to the lobe of his ear. Latching on to the sensitive skin and sucking greedily, she writhed beneath him, the roll of her hips forcing him deeper, nerves savoring the burst of sharp pleasure that knifed through her at the end of each stroke.
“Gods,” she gasped softly.
“Yeah,” he groaned, elbow planting against the mattress between her shoulder and her ear, bicep cording thickly as he struggled to contain his rhythm. “You feel so good, Laura.”
She uncurled a leg from around him, planting her foot firmly against the crumpled sheets. Gathering her strength, she used the leverage to flip him, giggling triumphantly at the look of surprise on his face as he tipped to the side and crashed to the mattress. At the heady jolt that thrummed through her as she carefully crawled atop his prone form and straddled him, his cock sliding even deeper inside her.
Her hands clutched at the strong planes of his chest, gripping at his pectorals as she adjusted to the new position. As she gasped for shallow breaths and tried to regain her strength after the exertion. Her back stretched and arched as she slyly ground her hips into his, unable to stay still despite the lack of air in her lungs.
“Laura,” he groaned again. Palms flew to her waist, flattening against her skin. Frantic fingers travelled up her torso, thumbs tickling promisingly against the sides of her breasts before circling her shoulders and skimming down the length of her arms to stroke the hands bracing her against his chest.
“Patience, Bill,” she teased, tangling their fingers and pinning his hands on the mattress next to his head. He groaned, fingers tightening around hers, supporting her body. She leaned heavily into his arms, letting him bear her weight as she dug her knees into the sheets, and began to move.
She rode him slowly at first, working her thighs and hips in an almost forgotten rhythm. He raised his knees and helped, planting his feet and thrusting deep into her. Laura cried out, head falling back as she wantonly spread her legs further, letting his powerful thighs do most of the work. Relishing the depth of the penetration as gravity and the rhythm of their hips stretched her.
Bill’s hands left hers, eagerly cupping her breasts, rolling and tweaking her nipples. Eyes greedily glued to her reactions as she gasped and sighed into his touch. Gradually, they worked down her body, caressing her sides before tenderly gripping her hips and massaging her trembling thighs, weakened muscles shaking from the exertion.
She opened her eyes to look into his when he stilled her. Pleading with him not to slow things down, not to break the mood, the moment, the sharp pleasure with reality.
Bill always had a plan.
“Laura, lemme try something,” he husked, thumb tracing soothingly across her hipbone, urging her to relax into him.
Sitting up, he folded his legs beneath her, settling himself comfortably before he coaxed her legs up and around to wrap around his waist. She cried out again as she sank onto him, leverage gone, depth and thrust and penetration completely given over to his hips and hands.
Strong palms positioned her on his crossed legs, moving her in counterpoint to his shallow thrusts, teaching her the new cadence. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she hummed deep in her throat, resting her forehead against his as he nudged just the right spot with every thrust.
“Good?” he asked softly.
She couldn’t answer, could only moan raggedly as her head dropped back and her toes curled.
He took advantage of the access, mouth licking and sucking across the sensitive skin of her throat. One hand began to explore her body again, massaging her breasts with clever circles, tilting her back just enough so he could suckle at her aching nipples.
Her hips worked fervently against his, fingers digging into his shoulders as his body tightened under hers. As she began to clench involuntarily around his length. As he began to mutter needy words into her skin.
“Shit, you feel so good,” he moaned around a nipple, tugging the bud sharply with his teeth before lifting his head and claiming her mouth with his. “So wet for me, Laura. I want you so much,” he confessed around messy kisses.
“Me too, Bill,” she gasped into his mouth.”
“Want you to come for me.” His thumb slid between their bodies, painting delicate swirls across her clit. “Please, Laura...”
She buried her face into his neck and moaned into his skin as her body began to contract. Slow ripples of pleasure that started deep inside her and spread, consuming each nerve like wildfire. Her teeth bit into the sweat-slick skin at the base of his neck, trying vainly to muffle her cries as they turned into screams. As her body jerked and spasmed uncontrollably and she lost all sense of anything but Bill and the way he felt in and around her.
Laura came back to herself slowly, vaguely aware of his soothing touch along her sweaty back and his delicate kisses trailing up her neck to nip at the shell of her ear. He was always so gentle with her now. So tender. So careful. So precise when he touched her. Always in control. Always checking his reactions, terrified of hurting her. Of pushing her too far. Of taking too much.
It wasn’t fair. She wanted him to feel too. She wanted more. She wanted to be out of control.
Still gasping for breath, she lifted her head from his skin and found his eyes watching her, quiet and intense, filled with heartbreaking emotion, even as hips still moved minutely under hers, hardness still throbbing inside of her. She brushed the sweaty hair from his eyes with a shaky hand, smiling fondly his adorably mussed appearance.
His right hand lifted from the hollow of her back to cradle her jaw, fingertips barely grazing her cheek as he searched her eyes for permission to continue. For confirmation that she could handle more. That she wanted more. That she needed more.
She needed him.
Winding her arms around his neck, she kissed him. Softly at first, just brushing his lips, tasting him as she slowly regained her breath. Then deeper, slower, tongue lazily pushing into his mouth and exploring every last surface. Stroking along his and groaning as his hands tightened on her body.
She gripped him tighter as he began to move, her fluid limbs refusing to relinquish the contact. He flipped them expertly, carefully laying her back against the mussed sheets with a few precise maneuvers. His mouth broke away from hers to lick and suck across her jaw before latching onto the patch of sensitive skin behind her ear. His hips began to work again. Excruciatingly slow thrusts, shallow rolling movements inside her hypersensitive wetness that had her moaning within seconds.
“Good?” he asked softly.
“Hmmmmm... So good,” she groaned, gasping against his cheek before digging her fingers into his scalp and demanding his eyes. “But stop playing nice and frak me. Hard.”
“Laura, I…”
“Please, Bill. I can take it. Take me.”
Laura grasped tightly onto his shoulders, planted her heels hard on his ass and fought for leverage, hips rolling against his, back undulating on the sheets as she tried to get him even closer. As she urged him to move, to thrust, to grip her tightly and take her the way he used to.
Bill gave in, groaning as he tried to adjust his position, hips unable to find the force he needed to frak her properly. With a grunt and a last hard nip at her shoulder, he pushed himself back onto his knees, sat up on his heels and pulled her across his lap. Angled her pelvis perfectly and thrust hard into her, groaning at the depth the new position allowed him.
Her back arched at his vigorous thrusts. As he ground his thick girth deep inside her. She spread her legs as wide as she could, stretching her muscles to take more. One leg lifted to drape over his shoulder, tilting and arching her spine into his rhythm. Her other leg braced against the mattress, thigh flexing as she pushed up into him, muscles trembling and straining as she tried and failed to support the odd angle.
With an apologetic grunt, he slowed his hips, snagged his pillow, and shoved it under her ass, the added support tilting her perfectly. He leaned in and kissed her deeply, thoroughly tasting her mouth before lifting her other leg over his shoulders as well, bending over her just enough to plant his palms against the mattress and renew his thrusts.
“Oh frak, Bill.”
She cried out louder than she expected, a steady stream of moans spilling from her lips at the exquisite sensations. She undulated her hips into his, as much as she dared humming at the burst of pleasure that filled her every time he hit bottom. She snaked a hand between their bodies, pinching at her throbbing nipples, slipping through the sweat drenching her skin to rub her soaked clit.
Bill moaned at the visual stimulus, as she began to tighten around him.
“So good, Laura.”
“More, Bill.”
Her fingers clawed at his biceps, at the sheets as he took her and he rode her hard, filling her over and over again, position magnifying the sensation.
She snaked a hand back to grasp at the ledge behind the pillows, searching for leverage to grind against his thrusts. To arch her body and hold on as he frakked her. As he filled her so very full with short, powerful strokes.
She hummed loudly as her body stretched, weakened muscles trembling uncontrollably, breasts bouncing with the force of his rhythm. He was frakking her so hard, so deep, so perfectly. Sharp pleasure consumed her, sensation skirting the edge of pain every time he bottomed out and drove against just the right spot inside of her.
He couldn’t look away, wide blue eyes fixed to her body as he thrust into her. Greedily roaming her sweat slicked skin, her swaying breasts, her wetness swallowing his arousal, before climbing back up her body to meet her gaze.
He held her eyes as he moved inside her. It was too intense. She wanted to look away. She couldn’t.
“Bill…Bill…Bill…Bill…”
She couldn’t stop saying his name. Couldn’t stop panting it into the heavy air between him. The short syllable ripped from her throat with every thrust.
He grunted into the sensitive skin on her ankle. His lips searched mindlessly, desperately for another forgotten sliver of skin. His hands secured her to him, holding her close as he sped up. As his thrusts grew even sharper, wet skin slapping hotly against hers, heavy cock pounding between her thighs, pushing deep inside of her at just the right angle. Just the right thrust. Dangling her just on the edge of oblivion.
His body began to tremble as he got closer, twitching inside of her as his body tightened.
“Frak, Laura. So close,” he panted, hips losing their rhythm completely and jerking hard into her. “Gonna come.”
It was too much. She arched underneath him with a loud keening cry, as slow tendrils of ecstasy knifed through her body. Blotting out everything but pleasure and Bill’s scent and feel and roar as he shuddered above her.
Laura gasped under him as the shaking subsided. As she slowly came back to her senses. As she opened her eyes and watched the final spasms of Bill’s orgasm.
He stole her breath.
His brow twisted and mouth gaped slightly as he gasped for air. His arms shook, struggling to support his weight as the ecstatic tremors threatened to overpower him. His face softened, warm, brilliant smile slowly painting his face as the waves of sensation began to ebb.
Laura dropped her legs to cradle his arms, pulling him closer with her knees so that she could cup his face. Shaky fingers traced over the curve of his jaw and scars in his cheeks. Smoothed the creases in his forehead and rake through his soft hair.
He sighed happily, nuzzling into her touch, eyes firmly shut, mouth dipping instinctively to claim hers in a long, slow, wet kiss. Gently lowering her legs, Bill’s hands blindly massaged her aching thighs as he guided each limb back to the mattress.
She groaned into his mouth, soreness asserting itself now that the adrenaline was settling. Bill chucked softly, dropping on his side and wrapping his strong arms around her, grunting softly as his deflating cock slipped from her body.
She didn’t know how long they lay there, legs tangled, arms clutching each other, sweat cooling against overheated flesh, trading soft, shallow kisses and ignoring the sluggish, sated pull of exhaustion. Finally, Bill’s lips left hers to anoint her temple, cheek, nose with tender caresses. Gathering his remaining strength, he pushed onto an elbow with a sharp grunt, kissing her deeply one last time before crawling over her body.
“Be right back.”
She rolled onto her back, lazy and sated, turning her head to watch him disappear into the bathroom. Closing her eyes, she sank into the sheets and let the sound of running water soothe her sated senses.
She was nearly asleep when Bill returned. He sat carefully on the mattress and methodically cleaned the drying sweat from her body with a warm washcloth. She hummed contentedly, arching into his lingering touches, giggling at the soft catch in his throat when her legs parted willingly for him.
His hands faltered against her thighs, fingers tracing the lean muscles for a long moment. She opened her eyes and studied him. Watched as he sat transfixed by their wetness marking her skin.
She nudged his hip with her leg, quirking her brow when his eyes lifted to meet hers.
“Sorry,” he chuckled, shaking his head and kissing the side of her knee. Bill cleaned her gingerly before tossing the soiled cloth and his stained pillow to the floor.
Leaning down, he dropped a light kiss to her temple and started to climb over her to his side of the bed. Laura shook her head, snagging his dog tags and pulling his mouth down to meet hers. She kissed him messily, indulgently, limbs already missing the connection.
He groaned into her mouth, tasting her deeply, sampling every last bit of her flavor before dropping onto his side and wrapping her in his arms
They fit so well together. His chest curled against her spine. His arms and legs wrapped around hers. Solid and strong as he supported her. As he clutched her to him and showered her flushed skin with affectionate kisses. Hot breath burning his murmured words into the blade of her shoulder and curve of her neck.
She didn’t want to fall asleep. She didn’t want to get up. She didn’t want to move from this spot. Didn’t even want to breathe in fear of breaking the spell.
She felt different. So very tired but not the overwhelming exhaustion that consumed her after every treatment and weighed down her days. She felt flushed. Lighter. Almost beautiful.
It made her wish that things were different. That things would last.
“Laura…”
He whispered her name into the skin behind her ear. Voice thick and heavy with sleep, yet each short syllable infused with more layers she would have thought possible from any other man.
She entwined their fingers. Softly kissed the pad of each before snuggling into his embrace and reluctantly following Bill into slumber.
###
Bill didn’t need to say the words. He didn’t need to breathe life into them to make them true. He loved her. He’d been telling her since Kobol. She’d just refused to hear him.
He had voiced it once. When she was lying on her deathbed the first time, the cancer progressed nearly to her brain. It had been just the two of them and the small army of medical devices filling the tiny space inside her curtain. She had been lucid - or as lucid as she managed in those few, horrible days - drifting in and out of consciousness but hyperaware of Bill’s solid, comforting form hovering by her bed.
She had smiled when he’d come in, reached for his hand and squeezed it to let him know she was glad to see him. His stoic face had softened as he linked their fingers, glistening eyes watching intently as she struggled to breathe. He’d tried to distract her, traced the delicate lines pressed into her palm and told her a story - some inconsequential, humorous tale about his viper pilots.
Her weak laugh had quickly become another coughing fit. He’d sat down next to her on the gurney, helping her up to sip at the water by her bedside, and then easing her back against her pillow. He’d looked at her for a long time, deep blue eyes swollen with thick emotion, careful fingers daring to brush her hair back from her cheek before taking her hand again and speaking his heart.
“I love you, Laura.”
The confession had been soft and matter of fact. Not seeking a response or expecting reciprocation. He had just told her because he wanted to. Because he wanted her to know she was loved before she died.
He said it more now that the cancer was back. Not with words, but in every way that he could. With the way he looked at her, intent and soft at the same time. With the little things he did for her, each brimming with tender thought and care. With subtle touches and silent actions that confessed the rawest of his emotions.
He didn’t even know he was doing it. Didn’t even give it a second thought. She doubted he knew his expression changed when she walked into a room. Doubted he realized that he touched her whenever possible, a reassuring hand, palm, finger instinctually seeking the contact. Generously offering support. Selfishly reassuring himself that she was still there.
She doubted he heard the emotion thickening his voice when he kissed her. When he frakked her. When he came inside her, whispering broken syllables into her skin.
She would clutch at his shoulders, ignoring the trembling in her fingers and the reverent touch of his hands. Avoiding the subtext enveloping them as she cradled him against her and soothed them both to sleep.
She ignored it as best she could, but she couldn’t shut off her brain. Couldn’t stop the images from flashing through her mind in quiet moments. She thought of the life they’d never have on Caprica or Earth. Of the life they might have had on New Caprica.
Coming home to Bill every night, in a house with windows and a yard and a lake outside their door. Quiet nights and weekends spent together doing mundane things. Cooking dinner. Reading. Curling up and watching a pyramid match on television instead of doing chores. Sitting in the backyard and watching the stars. A life of intimacy and connection - things she had avoided in her previous lives but that she craved with Bill.
Bill could make her so very happy.
But that wasn’t the world she lived in. That wasn’t the life the Fates had allowed her.
Instead, the President perched on a hospital bed, hooked up to a poisonous IV discussing politics with her Admiral. Argued about the welfare of their Fleet. The security of their people. The day-to-day crises of thirty thousand survivors running for their lives.
Still, Laura chose to set the work aside for a few minutes. To recline against the pillows and watch Bill. To tease him as he sat so seriously and considered so much - wanting so badly to put a smile onto his worn face. Her mouth curled happily as she cherished the dance they did together. Joking and flirting and saying so little and yet speaking volumes with every word.
She twisted her body, trying to find a comfortable position on the unforgiving cot as he cracked open their book and began to read. Curling up and closing her eyes, Laura blocked out the starchy linens and the thrumming of machines and the sterile hospital smell. Shut out her worries about supplies and violence and fanatics and survival. Blotted out everything but Bill’s low, warm voice as he read to her.
Laura lost herself in the story, in sentences long forgotten until they fell from Bill’s lips. His gravelly voice paused for a long moment, halting as he read. The air between them changed as he stopped and glanced back at her. As he regrouped and started anew.
The words flowed easily from his lips as he confessed. As he spoke from the heart, not the pages in front of him. She listened intently, eyes closed, entire being focused on his heart in his throat.
“You came into my thoughts. You filled them. It felt good.”
Laura listened to the soft rustle of pages as Bill shut the book. Felt the thin mattress of the hospital bed dip as he placed the volume next to her and leaned forward, fingers lightly tracing the curve of her knee.
They’d lie to each other later, curled up in his rack. He’d tell her he’d read her the end as she slept. She’d pretend to believe him, feigning embarrassment that she’d missed it. She’d ask him to read it to her again. He’d insist on starting at the beginning. He’d tell her it was an experience to be savored. After all, it was his favorite.
She had so much to do. So many things and so little time. She didn’t have time for Bill. She didn’t have time to spare for the relationship. And he couldn’t accept that she was leaving him. Their entire relationship was a mistake. It was an indulgence.
Sometimes the right thing was a luxury.
She wasn’t ready to love him.
But she wasn’t able to stop.
Author: snoopy0917
Pairing: Bill Adama/Laura Roslin
Rating: MA
Timeline: Crossroads Part 1 through Escape Velocity
Summary: There were the things Laura Roslin wanted and the things Laura Roslin needed. In a simpler world they would have overlapped. Instead, they stood in stark, irreconcilable conflict.
A/N: Honestly, so many people have had a hand in shaping little parts of this fic, I don’t even know where to start with my gratitude. Huge thanks go to icedteainthebag and i_am_davnee for betaing, and for zaleti and larsfarm77 for reading it through and giving me some insightful comments. And to flamingo55 and unavitasegreta for reading through bits and pieces ages ago and offering opinions. And to tjonesy who with a stray comment a year ago, prompted me to turn this short story into a very long and much more complex one. And a second thank you to i_am_davnee for keeping me sane over the last eight months. It means the world to me.
A/N 2: Honestly, it breaks my heart a little to be posting the last part of this story. It's been with me for so long that I almost don't know what I'll do without it. I love it dearly and I'm truly touched and honored that so many of you have come to enjoy it as well. I most certainly wasn't expecting the response I've received. Thank you all very, very much.
I don’t own the characters. If I did, I’d have a lot more money. However, the story is all mine.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12
Sometimes she couldn’t help but think about the things they would never get a chance to do. The places they would never see. The things they would never try. The fantasies that would stay unfulfilled.
She wanted so much that the cancer would steal from her, long before they finally found Earth. To walk in fresh air again, crisp breeze rumpling her hair, summer sun crisping her skin. To run until her lungs burned and her calves ached, springy grass tickling her soles as she danced barefoot across rich soil. To dive into cool water, feel it sluice across her skin as she swam and drip heavily from her hair as she surfaced. She wanted to see Bill’s smile, hear his laugh as he watched her. As he joined her. As he caught her in his arms and kissed her breathless in the sunshine.
She wanted to frak him in the daylight, unworried about how long they were taking. Wanted to waste hours, days just playing with his body, indulging in lazy, sensual pleasure. She wanted to eat chocolate off his skin and laugh about the sticky streaks and ruined sheets. To let him tear her underwear and not worry about where she’d find more. To kiss him in the corridor, the hangar deck, the CIC, the middle of the frakking street and not care what anyone thought.
Back on New Caprica - half a lifetime ago - they’d been far more irresponsible than they’d like to admit, frakking in all sort of exotic locations. Frakking anywhere they thought they could get away with it. They’d taken turns shoving each other into the nearest place with some pretense of privacy. Against the empty shelves of an abandoned storage locker. Pressed against the wall of the showers in the officers’ washroom. Across the desk in her classroom long after school was dismissed. In an uncomfortable chair in the forgotten Ward Room. On a set of sandbags, pulsing music and raucous laughter masking their cries.
Now they stuck to his rack. His couch if she was feeling adventurous.
Laura couldn’t work her body into the positions she used to. Couldn’t find the strength, the energy, the vitality and athleticism she needed for wild acrobatics. Couldn’t indulge in the variety and creativity and wanton abandon that their imaginations could provide.
It didn't matter. If this was all she could have, she'd take it.
It was good enough.
It was more than that. It was good.
Her back arched off the mattress as his hands massaged up her quivering body. His mouth followed, eagerly nipping and sucking across her collarbone. His tongue stroked across already-sated muscles. Across flesh and skin already begging for more.
She lifted her hands to his head and wound her fingers through his hair. Pulled his lips back to hers and kissed him, deep and demanding. The mattress shifted under her as he repositioned himself. As he planted his knees and lifted her hips, tilting her pelvis towards him, spreading her thighs wide open. As he positioned himself and slowly, carefully, exquisitely pushed inside of her.
“Missed you.”
The words flew out of her as he slid home. She would take them back if they weren’t the absolute truth.
“Me too.”
He broke the kiss, lips reluctantly leaving hers as he lifted his head and looked at her. Watched her eyes widen, her breath catch as he pressed further into her. Her legs lifted to wrap around his, forcing him closer, deeper inside, thighs flexing and pulling until he bottomed out. Until the coarse hairs at the base of his groin tickled and tortured her oversensitive clit.
“Laura…”
His forehead dropped heavily against her shoulder as he gasped for breath. Wet, hot kisses branded her skin, teeth nipping the soft swell of her breasts. His hands gripped her hips, fingers digging too tightly into the too prominent bones as he waited. As she adjusted. As they both struggled for control.
She hummed longingly, body thrumming under his, desire masking her aches and pains and discomforts. Erasing the sore burn of her muscle and leaving only need and want and Bill.
Eager, she flattened her hands against his shoulder blades and dragged them down the thick muscles of his back, groaning as they danced under her touch, his sweaty skin hot enough to sear her palms. She gripped at him, trying to pull him closer, gasping again as his dog tags slid through the dampness pooled between her breasts, cool metal a sharp contrast to their heated flesh. The sparse hair on his chest pricked against her nipples, ripping another pulse of sensation from her impatient nerves.
“Oh gods. Frak me, Bill.”
He kissed her once more, lips tenderly tasting hers, palm warm as he cupped her jaw, fingers stroking softly across her cheek. He hovered for a long moment after breaking the kiss. His brilliant smile on his lips, his whole heart in his eyes. He looked at her like she was the only thing with meaning in the universe. Like he could happily spend the rest of his days here with her. Just like this, tucked away inside their bed, lost inside each other.
The knowledge was overwhelming. It was too much responsibility. Too much reality. Too much to comprehend. It stole her reason, her sense, her ability to breathe.
She never wanted to leave.
Laura closed her eyes and moaned shakily as he began to move.
Bill thrust slowly into her. Lazy hips rolling with hers, filling her with long, thick strokes. She dropped her head back against the pillow, baring her throat to his mouth. Lifting her legs higher to hook around his waist, dragging them up his torso to angle him better. To pull him deeper. To move faster. To find the perfect friction.
“More, Bill,” she moaned breathily.
He chuckled softly, resting his weight on his palms and looking down at her again. Mischief lit his eyes as he shook his head and kissed the tip of her nose.
“Patience, Laura,” He murmured into her skin, lips dropping feathery kisses along her cheek and temple until his lips closed over the delicate shell of her ear. His thrusts lengthened, hips and ass flexing rhythmically as he frakked her. As he teased her, a firm palm claiming her thigh, pushing and massaging at the muscle, guiding her into his long, slow tempo.
She shook her head, threading her fingers in his hair and kissing blindly across his neck to the lobe of his ear. Latching on to the sensitive skin and sucking greedily, she writhed beneath him, the roll of her hips forcing him deeper, nerves savoring the burst of sharp pleasure that knifed through her at the end of each stroke.
“Gods,” she gasped softly.
“Yeah,” he groaned, elbow planting against the mattress between her shoulder and her ear, bicep cording thickly as he struggled to contain his rhythm. “You feel so good, Laura.”
She uncurled a leg from around him, planting her foot firmly against the crumpled sheets. Gathering her strength, she used the leverage to flip him, giggling triumphantly at the look of surprise on his face as he tipped to the side and crashed to the mattress. At the heady jolt that thrummed through her as she carefully crawled atop his prone form and straddled him, his cock sliding even deeper inside her.
Her hands clutched at the strong planes of his chest, gripping at his pectorals as she adjusted to the new position. As she gasped for shallow breaths and tried to regain her strength after the exertion. Her back stretched and arched as she slyly ground her hips into his, unable to stay still despite the lack of air in her lungs.
“Laura,” he groaned again. Palms flew to her waist, flattening against her skin. Frantic fingers travelled up her torso, thumbs tickling promisingly against the sides of her breasts before circling her shoulders and skimming down the length of her arms to stroke the hands bracing her against his chest.
“Patience, Bill,” she teased, tangling their fingers and pinning his hands on the mattress next to his head. He groaned, fingers tightening around hers, supporting her body. She leaned heavily into his arms, letting him bear her weight as she dug her knees into the sheets, and began to move.
She rode him slowly at first, working her thighs and hips in an almost forgotten rhythm. He raised his knees and helped, planting his feet and thrusting deep into her. Laura cried out, head falling back as she wantonly spread her legs further, letting his powerful thighs do most of the work. Relishing the depth of the penetration as gravity and the rhythm of their hips stretched her.
Bill’s hands left hers, eagerly cupping her breasts, rolling and tweaking her nipples. Eyes greedily glued to her reactions as she gasped and sighed into his touch. Gradually, they worked down her body, caressing her sides before tenderly gripping her hips and massaging her trembling thighs, weakened muscles shaking from the exertion.
She opened her eyes to look into his when he stilled her. Pleading with him not to slow things down, not to break the mood, the moment, the sharp pleasure with reality.
Bill always had a plan.
“Laura, lemme try something,” he husked, thumb tracing soothingly across her hipbone, urging her to relax into him.
Sitting up, he folded his legs beneath her, settling himself comfortably before he coaxed her legs up and around to wrap around his waist. She cried out again as she sank onto him, leverage gone, depth and thrust and penetration completely given over to his hips and hands.
Strong palms positioned her on his crossed legs, moving her in counterpoint to his shallow thrusts, teaching her the new cadence. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she hummed deep in her throat, resting her forehead against his as he nudged just the right spot with every thrust.
“Good?” he asked softly.
She couldn’t answer, could only moan raggedly as her head dropped back and her toes curled.
He took advantage of the access, mouth licking and sucking across the sensitive skin of her throat. One hand began to explore her body again, massaging her breasts with clever circles, tilting her back just enough so he could suckle at her aching nipples.
Her hips worked fervently against his, fingers digging into his shoulders as his body tightened under hers. As she began to clench involuntarily around his length. As he began to mutter needy words into her skin.
“Shit, you feel so good,” he moaned around a nipple, tugging the bud sharply with his teeth before lifting his head and claiming her mouth with his. “So wet for me, Laura. I want you so much,” he confessed around messy kisses.
“Me too, Bill,” she gasped into his mouth.”
“Want you to come for me.” His thumb slid between their bodies, painting delicate swirls across her clit. “Please, Laura...”
She buried her face into his neck and moaned into his skin as her body began to contract. Slow ripples of pleasure that started deep inside her and spread, consuming each nerve like wildfire. Her teeth bit into the sweat-slick skin at the base of his neck, trying vainly to muffle her cries as they turned into screams. As her body jerked and spasmed uncontrollably and she lost all sense of anything but Bill and the way he felt in and around her.
Laura came back to herself slowly, vaguely aware of his soothing touch along her sweaty back and his delicate kisses trailing up her neck to nip at the shell of her ear. He was always so gentle with her now. So tender. So careful. So precise when he touched her. Always in control. Always checking his reactions, terrified of hurting her. Of pushing her too far. Of taking too much.
It wasn’t fair. She wanted him to feel too. She wanted more. She wanted to be out of control.
Still gasping for breath, she lifted her head from his skin and found his eyes watching her, quiet and intense, filled with heartbreaking emotion, even as hips still moved minutely under hers, hardness still throbbing inside of her. She brushed the sweaty hair from his eyes with a shaky hand, smiling fondly his adorably mussed appearance.
His right hand lifted from the hollow of her back to cradle her jaw, fingertips barely grazing her cheek as he searched her eyes for permission to continue. For confirmation that she could handle more. That she wanted more. That she needed more.
She needed him.
Winding her arms around his neck, she kissed him. Softly at first, just brushing his lips, tasting him as she slowly regained her breath. Then deeper, slower, tongue lazily pushing into his mouth and exploring every last surface. Stroking along his and groaning as his hands tightened on her body.
She gripped him tighter as he began to move, her fluid limbs refusing to relinquish the contact. He flipped them expertly, carefully laying her back against the mussed sheets with a few precise maneuvers. His mouth broke away from hers to lick and suck across her jaw before latching onto the patch of sensitive skin behind her ear. His hips began to work again. Excruciatingly slow thrusts, shallow rolling movements inside her hypersensitive wetness that had her moaning within seconds.
“Good?” he asked softly.
“Hmmmmm... So good,” she groaned, gasping against his cheek before digging her fingers into his scalp and demanding his eyes. “But stop playing nice and frak me. Hard.”
“Laura, I…”
“Please, Bill. I can take it. Take me.”
Laura grasped tightly onto his shoulders, planted her heels hard on his ass and fought for leverage, hips rolling against his, back undulating on the sheets as she tried to get him even closer. As she urged him to move, to thrust, to grip her tightly and take her the way he used to.
Bill gave in, groaning as he tried to adjust his position, hips unable to find the force he needed to frak her properly. With a grunt and a last hard nip at her shoulder, he pushed himself back onto his knees, sat up on his heels and pulled her across his lap. Angled her pelvis perfectly and thrust hard into her, groaning at the depth the new position allowed him.
Her back arched at his vigorous thrusts. As he ground his thick girth deep inside her. She spread her legs as wide as she could, stretching her muscles to take more. One leg lifted to drape over his shoulder, tilting and arching her spine into his rhythm. Her other leg braced against the mattress, thigh flexing as she pushed up into him, muscles trembling and straining as she tried and failed to support the odd angle.
With an apologetic grunt, he slowed his hips, snagged his pillow, and shoved it under her ass, the added support tilting her perfectly. He leaned in and kissed her deeply, thoroughly tasting her mouth before lifting her other leg over his shoulders as well, bending over her just enough to plant his palms against the mattress and renew his thrusts.
“Oh frak, Bill.”
She cried out louder than she expected, a steady stream of moans spilling from her lips at the exquisite sensations. She undulated her hips into his, as much as she dared humming at the burst of pleasure that filled her every time he hit bottom. She snaked a hand between their bodies, pinching at her throbbing nipples, slipping through the sweat drenching her skin to rub her soaked clit.
Bill moaned at the visual stimulus, as she began to tighten around him.
“So good, Laura.”
“More, Bill.”
Her fingers clawed at his biceps, at the sheets as he took her and he rode her hard, filling her over and over again, position magnifying the sensation.
She snaked a hand back to grasp at the ledge behind the pillows, searching for leverage to grind against his thrusts. To arch her body and hold on as he frakked her. As he filled her so very full with short, powerful strokes.
She hummed loudly as her body stretched, weakened muscles trembling uncontrollably, breasts bouncing with the force of his rhythm. He was frakking her so hard, so deep, so perfectly. Sharp pleasure consumed her, sensation skirting the edge of pain every time he bottomed out and drove against just the right spot inside of her.
He couldn’t look away, wide blue eyes fixed to her body as he thrust into her. Greedily roaming her sweat slicked skin, her swaying breasts, her wetness swallowing his arousal, before climbing back up her body to meet her gaze.
He held her eyes as he moved inside her. It was too intense. She wanted to look away. She couldn’t.
“Bill…Bill…Bill…Bill…”
She couldn’t stop saying his name. Couldn’t stop panting it into the heavy air between him. The short syllable ripped from her throat with every thrust.
He grunted into the sensitive skin on her ankle. His lips searched mindlessly, desperately for another forgotten sliver of skin. His hands secured her to him, holding her close as he sped up. As his thrusts grew even sharper, wet skin slapping hotly against hers, heavy cock pounding between her thighs, pushing deep inside of her at just the right angle. Just the right thrust. Dangling her just on the edge of oblivion.
His body began to tremble as he got closer, twitching inside of her as his body tightened.
“Frak, Laura. So close,” he panted, hips losing their rhythm completely and jerking hard into her. “Gonna come.”
It was too much. She arched underneath him with a loud keening cry, as slow tendrils of ecstasy knifed through her body. Blotting out everything but pleasure and Bill’s scent and feel and roar as he shuddered above her.
Laura gasped under him as the shaking subsided. As she slowly came back to her senses. As she opened her eyes and watched the final spasms of Bill’s orgasm.
He stole her breath.
His brow twisted and mouth gaped slightly as he gasped for air. His arms shook, struggling to support his weight as the ecstatic tremors threatened to overpower him. His face softened, warm, brilliant smile slowly painting his face as the waves of sensation began to ebb.
Laura dropped her legs to cradle his arms, pulling him closer with her knees so that she could cup his face. Shaky fingers traced over the curve of his jaw and scars in his cheeks. Smoothed the creases in his forehead and rake through his soft hair.
He sighed happily, nuzzling into her touch, eyes firmly shut, mouth dipping instinctively to claim hers in a long, slow, wet kiss. Gently lowering her legs, Bill’s hands blindly massaged her aching thighs as he guided each limb back to the mattress.
She groaned into his mouth, soreness asserting itself now that the adrenaline was settling. Bill chucked softly, dropping on his side and wrapping his strong arms around her, grunting softly as his deflating cock slipped from her body.
She didn’t know how long they lay there, legs tangled, arms clutching each other, sweat cooling against overheated flesh, trading soft, shallow kisses and ignoring the sluggish, sated pull of exhaustion. Finally, Bill’s lips left hers to anoint her temple, cheek, nose with tender caresses. Gathering his remaining strength, he pushed onto an elbow with a sharp grunt, kissing her deeply one last time before crawling over her body.
“Be right back.”
She rolled onto her back, lazy and sated, turning her head to watch him disappear into the bathroom. Closing her eyes, she sank into the sheets and let the sound of running water soothe her sated senses.
She was nearly asleep when Bill returned. He sat carefully on the mattress and methodically cleaned the drying sweat from her body with a warm washcloth. She hummed contentedly, arching into his lingering touches, giggling at the soft catch in his throat when her legs parted willingly for him.
His hands faltered against her thighs, fingers tracing the lean muscles for a long moment. She opened her eyes and studied him. Watched as he sat transfixed by their wetness marking her skin.
She nudged his hip with her leg, quirking her brow when his eyes lifted to meet hers.
“Sorry,” he chuckled, shaking his head and kissing the side of her knee. Bill cleaned her gingerly before tossing the soiled cloth and his stained pillow to the floor.
Leaning down, he dropped a light kiss to her temple and started to climb over her to his side of the bed. Laura shook her head, snagging his dog tags and pulling his mouth down to meet hers. She kissed him messily, indulgently, limbs already missing the connection.
He groaned into her mouth, tasting her deeply, sampling every last bit of her flavor before dropping onto his side and wrapping her in his arms
They fit so well together. His chest curled against her spine. His arms and legs wrapped around hers. Solid and strong as he supported her. As he clutched her to him and showered her flushed skin with affectionate kisses. Hot breath burning his murmured words into the blade of her shoulder and curve of her neck.
She didn’t want to fall asleep. She didn’t want to get up. She didn’t want to move from this spot. Didn’t even want to breathe in fear of breaking the spell.
She felt different. So very tired but not the overwhelming exhaustion that consumed her after every treatment and weighed down her days. She felt flushed. Lighter. Almost beautiful.
It made her wish that things were different. That things would last.
“Laura…”
He whispered her name into the skin behind her ear. Voice thick and heavy with sleep, yet each short syllable infused with more layers she would have thought possible from any other man.
She entwined their fingers. Softly kissed the pad of each before snuggling into his embrace and reluctantly following Bill into slumber.
###
Bill didn’t need to say the words. He didn’t need to breathe life into them to make them true. He loved her. He’d been telling her since Kobol. She’d just refused to hear him.
He had voiced it once. When she was lying on her deathbed the first time, the cancer progressed nearly to her brain. It had been just the two of them and the small army of medical devices filling the tiny space inside her curtain. She had been lucid - or as lucid as she managed in those few, horrible days - drifting in and out of consciousness but hyperaware of Bill’s solid, comforting form hovering by her bed.
She had smiled when he’d come in, reached for his hand and squeezed it to let him know she was glad to see him. His stoic face had softened as he linked their fingers, glistening eyes watching intently as she struggled to breathe. He’d tried to distract her, traced the delicate lines pressed into her palm and told her a story - some inconsequential, humorous tale about his viper pilots.
Her weak laugh had quickly become another coughing fit. He’d sat down next to her on the gurney, helping her up to sip at the water by her bedside, and then easing her back against her pillow. He’d looked at her for a long time, deep blue eyes swollen with thick emotion, careful fingers daring to brush her hair back from her cheek before taking her hand again and speaking his heart.
“I love you, Laura.”
The confession had been soft and matter of fact. Not seeking a response or expecting reciprocation. He had just told her because he wanted to. Because he wanted her to know she was loved before she died.
He said it more now that the cancer was back. Not with words, but in every way that he could. With the way he looked at her, intent and soft at the same time. With the little things he did for her, each brimming with tender thought and care. With subtle touches and silent actions that confessed the rawest of his emotions.
He didn’t even know he was doing it. Didn’t even give it a second thought. She doubted he knew his expression changed when she walked into a room. Doubted he realized that he touched her whenever possible, a reassuring hand, palm, finger instinctually seeking the contact. Generously offering support. Selfishly reassuring himself that she was still there.
She doubted he heard the emotion thickening his voice when he kissed her. When he frakked her. When he came inside her, whispering broken syllables into her skin.
She would clutch at his shoulders, ignoring the trembling in her fingers and the reverent touch of his hands. Avoiding the subtext enveloping them as she cradled him against her and soothed them both to sleep.
She ignored it as best she could, but she couldn’t shut off her brain. Couldn’t stop the images from flashing through her mind in quiet moments. She thought of the life they’d never have on Caprica or Earth. Of the life they might have had on New Caprica.
Coming home to Bill every night, in a house with windows and a yard and a lake outside their door. Quiet nights and weekends spent together doing mundane things. Cooking dinner. Reading. Curling up and watching a pyramid match on television instead of doing chores. Sitting in the backyard and watching the stars. A life of intimacy and connection - things she had avoided in her previous lives but that she craved with Bill.
Bill could make her so very happy.
But that wasn’t the world she lived in. That wasn’t the life the Fates had allowed her.
Instead, the President perched on a hospital bed, hooked up to a poisonous IV discussing politics with her Admiral. Argued about the welfare of their Fleet. The security of their people. The day-to-day crises of thirty thousand survivors running for their lives.
Still, Laura chose to set the work aside for a few minutes. To recline against the pillows and watch Bill. To tease him as he sat so seriously and considered so much - wanting so badly to put a smile onto his worn face. Her mouth curled happily as she cherished the dance they did together. Joking and flirting and saying so little and yet speaking volumes with every word.
She twisted her body, trying to find a comfortable position on the unforgiving cot as he cracked open their book and began to read. Curling up and closing her eyes, Laura blocked out the starchy linens and the thrumming of machines and the sterile hospital smell. Shut out her worries about supplies and violence and fanatics and survival. Blotted out everything but Bill’s low, warm voice as he read to her.
Laura lost herself in the story, in sentences long forgotten until they fell from Bill’s lips. His gravelly voice paused for a long moment, halting as he read. The air between them changed as he stopped and glanced back at her. As he regrouped and started anew.
The words flowed easily from his lips as he confessed. As he spoke from the heart, not the pages in front of him. She listened intently, eyes closed, entire being focused on his heart in his throat.
“You came into my thoughts. You filled them. It felt good.”
Laura listened to the soft rustle of pages as Bill shut the book. Felt the thin mattress of the hospital bed dip as he placed the volume next to her and leaned forward, fingers lightly tracing the curve of her knee.
They’d lie to each other later, curled up in his rack. He’d tell her he’d read her the end as she slept. She’d pretend to believe him, feigning embarrassment that she’d missed it. She’d ask him to read it to her again. He’d insist on starting at the beginning. He’d tell her it was an experience to be savored. After all, it was his favorite.
She had so much to do. So many things and so little time. She didn’t have time for Bill. She didn’t have time to spare for the relationship. And he couldn’t accept that she was leaving him. Their entire relationship was a mistake. It was an indulgence.
Sometimes the right thing was a luxury.
She wasn’t ready to love him.
But she wasn’t able to stop.