the one with the head!woman that i covet beyond all reason
Okay! So, at one time, I had four different journals for all the different things I do. Now, I have two, and it's still annoying me. I know. I'm picky. ANYWAY, I decided to merge my icon and fiction journals, so, from now on, I'll be posting fic here, as well. Okay? Okay!
Title: The End of the World As We Know It
Author: Victoria
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Rating: PG
Summary: "At the end of the day, after the fights, after the wars, after the endless battles; after the discovery of the Thirteenth, after the wasteland their own had left their brothers’ salvation in, after she succumbed to that which she couldn’t fight; after everything, at the end of the day, they were right back where they started." [Adama/Roslin, Baltar, Baltar/Six]
At the end of the day.
At the end of the day, after the fights, after the wars, after the endless battles; after the discovery of the Thirteenth, after the
wasteland their own had left their brothers’ salvation in, after she succumbed to that which she couldn’t fight; after everything, at the end of the day, they were right back where they started.
At the end of the day, Bill Adama found himself a drinking partner in Gaius Baltar.
“Saul would be so proud,” her voice whispered.
He ignored it.
Earth was a barren, dry place. Ruins were visible from space-tall, crumbling buildings and derelict houses. A Raptor team had confirmed what he had suspected: everyone was dead. An internal war within the planet (from perhaps fifty or sixty years ago, judging from the radiation levels) had taken out everything both living, and not, and left behind a planet-wide nuclear battlefield.
Frak it all.
“Did you know,” Bill said, staring into the rim of his ambrosia glass, “that she was a Cylon, doctor?”
Baltar shook his head.
“I had no idea. Not until…” he seemed to trail off, his sharp, wild eyes following something only he could see. “Not until it was too late.”
Bill nodded.
“Sometimes,” Baltar paused again, though this time it appeared he was contemplating whether to speak further. “Sometimes, I think I see her.”
“See, Bill? I told you, you weren’t going crazy.”
Bill grunted and took another sip of ambrosia. The liquid slid smoothly down his throat, the sweet burn it had once held long gone.
He’d gotten used to it.
He’d gotten used to a lot of things.
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
“She ever talk to you, doc?” More ambrosia entered his system.
Bill missed the dull haze alcohol used to bring.
“I-I’m not sure what you mean, Admiral.” Baltar adjusted his chair. Those damn shifty eyes of his kept snapping between Bill, and some unoccupied space near his head; a sneaking, unwanted suspicion rose in his mind.
“You see her. She sees you. Does she talk?”
“What, did you really think you were alone?”
Bill set his glass down harder than he intended to.
“Ah-yes, yes, she does. Sometimes.”
So, Baltar didn’t have much of his sanity to lose, either.
Who would have thought he’d find an ally in the Cylon frakker?
“Me, too.”
And a delicate, long-fingered hand trailed itself along his back. A simple gold band rested on the thumb of it; Bill knew this without even seeing it.
“You see-” Baltar looked to be at a loss for words. He leaned in slightly, long hair falling into his bearded face. “You can see her,
too? Six?”
A melodic laugh.
“Not Six, no,” Bill replied.
She sat down next to him at last.
Long, softly curled auburn hair, twinkling green eyes. Green canvas dress and a light blue blazer. Legs that went on for miles. Black heels, red toenails. Beneath her dress, creamy white skin smattered with freckles from chest to shoulders. Pink lips that covered perfect teeth.
Laura idly took a sip from Bill’s drink and watched him through her lashes.
“Who do you see?” Baltar was staring at him in apparent fascination, his hair now pushed hastily back from his face.
“Yes, Bill,” Laura smiled, “who do you see?”
He looked down, eyes finding her left hand, and the ring that had been too big for her fourth finger, but had fit her thumb so perfectly.
He took her hand and toyed with the gold band. He’d loved her hands.
“She should have been my wife,” he whispered.
A hand came up to lay against his cheek.
“You know your track record with marriages,” Laura cooed. “And I didn’t need to marry you to know that you’re mine, and I yours.”
Bill stared into her impossibly green eyes. Gods, she was right.
It was always between them.
“Who, Admiral?” Baltar pressed.
He didn’t hear the man. So caught up in Laura was he that Bill didn’t notice when Baltar started talking to thin air; he found himself lost in her eyes, in their wisdom, in the sparkle that had only come to life as she lay dying. She was perfect. So very, very perfect. She’d driven him insane, forced his hand more than once, even turned his own son against him-but, in the end, did any of that matter? Didn’t the good times outweigh the bad? Wasn’t a night spent under the stars, or the criminally few nights spent in his bed, more worth remembering?
So say we all, his mind echoed.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“Laura.” His voice was hoarse, more husky than its usual depth. Tears pricked behind his eyes.
Baltar snapped back to attention.
“Laura? Laura Roslin?” Baltar leaned, if possible, even further forward. “Was she a-” he cleared his throat, “a Cylon?”
Baltar’s head lurched forward, as if someone had hit him in the back of it. Bill’s eyes left Laura’s to stare at him, surmising that, perhaps, Six was in the room.
“Cylons don’t die from cancer, doctor,” Bill said, evenly. Baltar nodded as he sat back in his chair; his hand angrily rubbed the back of his head.
“So I’ve just heard,” he hissed.
A tiny laugh came from beside Bill, and he turned to see Laura smiling, tossing her long curls back with one hand as the other wrapped itself around his own.
“That explains why I caught him with his head smashed into things from time to time. How effective.”
Bill stared at her.
“Who are you talking to?”
The question came from both Bill and Baltar, the two staring at, to one another, empty space.
“Six, dear,” Laura turned back to him. “She’s standing next to the traitor.”
Ah, yes, Laura had taken to calling Baltar that after the conclusion of his trial.
A pause, and then Laura laughed again.
“Well, I thought it was fitting, don’t you?” Her thumb rubbed soothing circles on the back of Bill’s hand. What in the hell was going on?
“Doctor,” Bill said, slowly, still staring at the woman next to him, “is Six saying something?”
Baltar looked annoyed. He glared at the space beside his chair.
“Something like ‘at times’. What in the hell is going on here, Admiral?”
Bill shook his head. He was going mad. That was it. Goodbye, sanity, hello, Gaius Baltar.
“You’re not going crazy, Bill,” Laura said, raising their joined hands to kiss the backs of his fingers. “I don’t understand it, either. But
you’re here, and I’m here, aren’t we?”
Bill took a deep, calming breath, and let it out. This…this was how it was going to be. No home, no end in sight, but perhaps, he had a shred of hope-hope, yes. Because she existed. Because she hadn’t left him.
Because she loved him.
“Maybe,” Bill rasped, “maybe, we should just enjoy this.”
Laura smiled, tears in her eyes, and leaned forward to rest her forehead against his.
“I am.”
Somewhere, Bill registered that he very well could be giving up his sanity, his life, and his pride, but he found he didn’t care; at that moment, as his lips found hers, he knew peace.
He didn’t notice Baltar’s face as the man stared at where Six was--or the tone he snapped with at her-- but he did smile into Laura’s kiss as the man quipped,
“What in the hell are you getting so teary-eyed at?”
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Notes: I wrote this about two (or three) weeks ago, whilst driving from Spokane, Washington all the way up to Alberta. Obviously, Bill and Laura decided to come out and play at the most inconvenient time. Also, apparently I really liked semi-colins when I wrote this. Whoops.
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I have an icon post coming up, as soon as I stop FAILING at text. I might just put up a textless batch, honestly, because I was so busy focusing on cropping and some new colouring that I just abandoned text alltogether. FAIL.
Have a preview:
Well, two of those have like the exact same text. See? What did I tell ya?