FIC: Day to Day (1/3)
Summary: Laura and Bill are feeling the stress of their distance.
Rating: T
Category: Drama, Romance, Angst
Word Count: 2,200
Setting: during A Day in the Life
Series: Love in a Time of War: 13
Chapter One:
Doctor Cottle greeted Laura warmly, motioning to a chair in front of his desk.
“Thank you for seeing me so early in the morning, Doctor,” she said, settling into a chair. “I plan on working aboard Galactica today and that gives me a good cover.”
He waved off her gratitude, frowned at her easy slide back to deception and started right in on his nagging. “About time you came by, young lady. I wanted you to come in for a checkup after you got off of New Caprica.”
She shrugged with irritation. “There was too much work, Doctor. For both of us.”
He sighed and knit his eyebrows. “Madam President, I wasn’t able to keep up with the routine testing on you while we were down on that hellhole--“
“Yes,” she said, smiling tightly at him.
He got the hint and moved on. “But something brought you here now,” he said, fumbling for a cigarette.
She laced her fingers together nervously, studying the nails that turned white from the pressure. “I’ve been feeling tired lately, no matter how much sleep I get. Light-headed sometimes--“
“Have you been doing your self-exams?” he asked, taking notes.
“Yes,” she said petulantly. “I should have bruising from the way I go at them.”
He chuckled, but asked, “And nothing?”
“No.”
“Anything else you’ve noticed?” he said.
Laura thought, and said, “I seem thirsty a lot, my skin is dry, even though I’m drinking all the time.”
He tapped his pen on the desk. “Okay, I’ve been seeing some problems ever since we had to go to an all algae diet. Some people have an adverse reaction to this much protein; could be the same in your case too; symptoms are similar.” He pushed himself up from his chair. “Let’s run some blood tests, see what we’ve got. And do a mammogram.” He stopped by her chair and resumed his scolding. “But I want you to start coming in for regular tests again--this isn’t to be argued.”
“Okay,” she said, rolling up her sleeve.
When he was finished drawing blood, he said, “There’s another possibility, you know.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I got eyes,” he said, lighting a fresh cigarette. “I get called into the Life Station at late hours. I’ve seen your guards outside the Admiral’s quarters much later than any meeting would run.”
She met his eyes coolly. He said, “And now they aren’t there anymore.”
“Okay,” she said again.
He stumbled a bit. “I’m just saying, I assume you’ve had some emotional upheaval, could be a bit depressed.”
“I suppose that could be it,” she said, almost brightening at the prospect.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” asked Cottle. “Take that bum out back and knock some sense into his thick head for you?”
She gave a watery laugh, waving her hand at him. He snatched a box of tissue off his desk and held it out to her. Pulling a few free, she said, “No, no.” Wiping her nose, she added, spirit back, “Besides, what makes you think that he dumped me?”
“I’ve know Bill Adama a long time, young lady,” he told her. “I’ve seen him make every stupid mistake with women in the book, but there’s always another way.”
Squeezing the tissue, she said, “Are you telling me that Bill’s not good with women?”
“No, I just know what sort of pressures the two of you are under. That man’s being pulled a lot of directions.”
She nodded, her brow furrowing. “Doctor, can I ask you to do something for me?”
“Anything,” he said.
“If...if the tests ever come back bad, will you have Bill here when you tell me?”
Cottle’s face showed his surprise. “All right.”
“I just know...I know how I am. And I wouldn’t be able to tell him...like the last time. He should know--for the good of the Fleet.”
“You wouldn’t tell him for yourself?” Cottle said, his rough voice somehow tender.
“No,” she murmured. She rose unsteadily. “I’m delegating authority,” she said with a wry smile. “In other words, I’m a coward.”
The doctor was quiet for a moment, letting her regain control. Then he said, “For now, I suggest getting some exercise. When was the last time you did anything active?”
When she was silent, he said, “Okay, I’ll take that as too long. Get moving; get your blood flowing. Believe it or not, it’ll give you more energy. Once some endorphins are flowing, you may feel better than you expect.”
Her endorphins wouldn’t be flowing for any other reason; she might as well take his advice. “That’s a good idea,” she said, nodding. “I will.”
“Good,” he said. “Now go out and get that mammogram; Tio’s waiting for you.”
At the door, she turned back. “Thank you, Doctor, for everything.”
He just waved her away, falling heavily back into his chair. He lifted the phial of her blood, turning it slowly, wondering what truths it would tell.
Laura sat in the Ward Room, slurping off of the largest coffee cup that Tory could find in the galley. After the fasting for her blood test, she had some catching up to do. It may be algae coffee, but it would have to do. She could already feel the nervous energy coursing through her veins; Bill was coming.
Gods, listen to her. Bill was coming. The name Bill was going through her head in a shrill teenage girl’s voice, complete with quavering. She glanced down at the report, expecting to see that she’d doodled his name with a heart dotting the i.
She should be well practiced in this kind of isolation. Richard would go through spells where he decided that they couldn’t be together--elections, the press on his back, the opposition party was sniffing around. And she had borne those times up well. After all, she was used to being alone.
Now it wasn’t that she was alone; she had people around her day and night--the breathing of her staff just outside a tattered blue curtain night and day--enough work keep her busy every waking moment. No, she was lonely without Bill’s intimate company. They saw each other, but always in a group, or a rushed moment passing in the corridor.
Against her best intentions, the less time they spent together, the more she thought of him, until he was becoming some odd fantasy figure. The next thing she knew, she’d be caught by Tory making out with the air like Caprica Six had been doing in her cell.
Suddenly Bill was there, tidy and neat and perfectly normal--no celestial trumpets had sounded, or wings flapped behind his drab uniform.
Still feeling a bit dreamy, Laura said, “Admiral.”
“Madam President,” he replied, extending his hand. In a trance, she took it, and then snapped back to reality. He was actually shaking her frakking hand. My Gods, the hand that cradled her ass cheek perfectly, the fingers that have been up her vagina halfway to her heart, were giving her some limp handshake.
She was nearly speechless and could only dredge up, “How are you?” Inane. Inane.
He gave one of his quick sighs that suggested he’d rather be anywhere but there. “Very good,” he said, equally inane, but not seeming to find it offensive. The handshake done, he took one step back and started shifting from foot to foot.
She became very, very angry in one hot second. If they were going to be apart, he better not behave as though he preferred the situation. She smiled blindingly, and leaned forward until all that appeared above the table’s edge was her cleavage and the blouse that accentuated it.
She would start with a full confession; that always knocked him off guard; he was expecting her usual emotional evasion. “I’m sorry, I’m sure this all could have been done over the wireless, but very frankly, I was going stir-crazy on Colonial One and I had to get out.” Her voice sounded a bit frantic by the end, not the carefree image that she wanted to project.
His eyes warmed, and finally really looked at her, although carefully avoided staring at her chest...what would the scans show? “Deep space pilots used to call it O.B.E.”
She feigned interest; he was talking to her, talking about something besides the fuel supply and crew assignments. “What’s O.B.E?”
“Overcome By Events; and you’re always welcome here.” Now he seemed to be caught in the same odd vortex that she was; his words rushed out. “You know that.” His welcome washed over her, so cozy, but he was rocking like he was on a boat. Something wasn’t right about him; or was this him now? She hadn’t seen enough of him recently to be sure anymore.
She said, “You may not feel like that after you finish this. Tory actually drew up an agenda.”
He managed to not touch her hand when he took the report. With distaste, he said, “Baltar again.” She slurped more coffee as he read it, grumbling to himself. “Can’t we just give him back to the Cylons?”
She smiled. “You know how much I love that idea; unfortunately, given what little I was able to glean from the Caprica Six, I don’t think the Cylons will take him back, so we’re stuck.”
“Fine.” He was impatient suddenly; shaken from his lethargy. “We’ll try the son of a bitch and be done with it.”
Yes, let’s get it done, she thought, but it must be done right. She didn’t just want Baltar put out an airlock, or sentenced to life in the brig. She wanted--she needed--the truth from that sweaty bastard.
She told Bill, “We have to give him a trial but under what law? Caprican, Picon, Tauron?” He removed his glasses, his sign of a headache coming on. “We give him a jury trial-- do we set up a tribunal? We don’t even have anything closely resembling a comprehensive law library and this Fleet is not exactly brimming with legal talent.”
Bill twisted his mouth at the sound of that. “Bring lawyers into this and they’re gonna drag this out for months.”
Feeling playful again, she asked, “Wasn’t your father an attorney on Caprica?”
“Yes, and I told you I didn’t get along with him very well.” Now he wanted to remember their intimacy; his tight little smile relit her anger.
“Okay, okay, I’m ready to set up an organizing committee, but frankly, trying to get a room full of legal scholars to stay on task is like herding cats. So I need to set up a chairman of this committee.” She stood suddenly, leaning into him. He fought not to look down her blouse--or was he avoiding what she was saying? “Somebody who can make a hard decision and won’t get seduced and bogged down by all the legalese.”
Now he seemed interested. “Do you have a candidate?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. I was thinking Lee.” She drew out his son’s name, smirking with her own brilliance. “Like grandfather like grandson perhaps. Whatda think?”
Bill’s face got that astonished old hound dog look he did so well and that made her back teeth grind together. “I’m not gonna say he’s incapable of handling it, but--“
She stood straight; here it comes. “He’s never shown any type of interest in law.” Was Bill blind? Only for what he didn’t want to see, apparently. If it didn’t involve his son sitting in the cockpit of a Viper, he didn’t see it.
She looked away. “I know, but here’s the thing. We can use the lawyers to parse the law but we really need people who know the difference between right and wrong. Thus Lee.” She’d use Lee’s rigid moral code to squelch Baltar’s ambiguity. She’d never say that to Bill, but she found his son’s strict views tiresome sometimes, but it would be useful in this case.
“I’ll talk to him.” He gave a sharp nod without looking at her.
She leaned towards him again, but still garnered no reaction. “Good,” she said briskly, her tone a bit sharper than she’d intended.
He was walking away. “Also, Admiral?” He turned back. “I was wondering if you mind if I stayed on your ship for the rest of the day.”
“Please, by all means.” He seemed distracted again.
“This is very difficult for me to say, but I’m going to go to the gym.” She was trying to get a smile from him and only got the slight upturning of the corners of his lips.
Pained, he said, “Prepare yourself. On its best day, it smells like the inside of a shoe.”
The joke was barely funny, on its best day. Yet she laughed hysterically, finally managing to cut herself off with a sigh that became a hum, and mentally kicked herself in the ass. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic. He seemed to agree, leaving without a backward look. At least she wasn’t twirling her hair around her finger, fretting over her boyfriend leaving without a goodbye kiss.
The end Chapter Two>>>
Rating: T
Category: Drama, Romance, Angst
Word Count: 2,200
Setting: during A Day in the Life
Series: Love in a Time of War: 13
Chapter One:
Doctor Cottle greeted Laura warmly, motioning to a chair in front of his desk.
“Thank you for seeing me so early in the morning, Doctor,” she said, settling into a chair. “I plan on working aboard Galactica today and that gives me a good cover.”
He waved off her gratitude, frowned at her easy slide back to deception and started right in on his nagging. “About time you came by, young lady. I wanted you to come in for a checkup after you got off of New Caprica.”
She shrugged with irritation. “There was too much work, Doctor. For both of us.”
He sighed and knit his eyebrows. “Madam President, I wasn’t able to keep up with the routine testing on you while we were down on that hellhole--“
“Yes,” she said, smiling tightly at him.
He got the hint and moved on. “But something brought you here now,” he said, fumbling for a cigarette.
She laced her fingers together nervously, studying the nails that turned white from the pressure. “I’ve been feeling tired lately, no matter how much sleep I get. Light-headed sometimes--“
“Have you been doing your self-exams?” he asked, taking notes.
“Yes,” she said petulantly. “I should have bruising from the way I go at them.”
He chuckled, but asked, “And nothing?”
“No.”
“Anything else you’ve noticed?” he said.
Laura thought, and said, “I seem thirsty a lot, my skin is dry, even though I’m drinking all the time.”
He tapped his pen on the desk. “Okay, I’ve been seeing some problems ever since we had to go to an all algae diet. Some people have an adverse reaction to this much protein; could be the same in your case too; symptoms are similar.” He pushed himself up from his chair. “Let’s run some blood tests, see what we’ve got. And do a mammogram.” He stopped by her chair and resumed his scolding. “But I want you to start coming in for regular tests again--this isn’t to be argued.”
“Okay,” she said, rolling up her sleeve.
When he was finished drawing blood, he said, “There’s another possibility, you know.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I got eyes,” he said, lighting a fresh cigarette. “I get called into the Life Station at late hours. I’ve seen your guards outside the Admiral’s quarters much later than any meeting would run.”
She met his eyes coolly. He said, “And now they aren’t there anymore.”
“Okay,” she said again.
He stumbled a bit. “I’m just saying, I assume you’ve had some emotional upheaval, could be a bit depressed.”
“I suppose that could be it,” she said, almost brightening at the prospect.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” asked Cottle. “Take that bum out back and knock some sense into his thick head for you?”
She gave a watery laugh, waving her hand at him. He snatched a box of tissue off his desk and held it out to her. Pulling a few free, she said, “No, no.” Wiping her nose, she added, spirit back, “Besides, what makes you think that he dumped me?”
“I’ve know Bill Adama a long time, young lady,” he told her. “I’ve seen him make every stupid mistake with women in the book, but there’s always another way.”
Squeezing the tissue, she said, “Are you telling me that Bill’s not good with women?”
“No, I just know what sort of pressures the two of you are under. That man’s being pulled a lot of directions.”
She nodded, her brow furrowing. “Doctor, can I ask you to do something for me?”
“Anything,” he said.
“If...if the tests ever come back bad, will you have Bill here when you tell me?”
Cottle’s face showed his surprise. “All right.”
“I just know...I know how I am. And I wouldn’t be able to tell him...like the last time. He should know--for the good of the Fleet.”
“You wouldn’t tell him for yourself?” Cottle said, his rough voice somehow tender.
“No,” she murmured. She rose unsteadily. “I’m delegating authority,” she said with a wry smile. “In other words, I’m a coward.”
The doctor was quiet for a moment, letting her regain control. Then he said, “For now, I suggest getting some exercise. When was the last time you did anything active?”
When she was silent, he said, “Okay, I’ll take that as too long. Get moving; get your blood flowing. Believe it or not, it’ll give you more energy. Once some endorphins are flowing, you may feel better than you expect.”
Her endorphins wouldn’t be flowing for any other reason; she might as well take his advice. “That’s a good idea,” she said, nodding. “I will.”
“Good,” he said. “Now go out and get that mammogram; Tio’s waiting for you.”
At the door, she turned back. “Thank you, Doctor, for everything.”
He just waved her away, falling heavily back into his chair. He lifted the phial of her blood, turning it slowly, wondering what truths it would tell.
Laura sat in the Ward Room, slurping off of the largest coffee cup that Tory could find in the galley. After the fasting for her blood test, she had some catching up to do. It may be algae coffee, but it would have to do. She could already feel the nervous energy coursing through her veins; Bill was coming.
Gods, listen to her. Bill was coming. The name Bill was going through her head in a shrill teenage girl’s voice, complete with quavering. She glanced down at the report, expecting to see that she’d doodled his name with a heart dotting the i.
She should be well practiced in this kind of isolation. Richard would go through spells where he decided that they couldn’t be together--elections, the press on his back, the opposition party was sniffing around. And she had borne those times up well. After all, she was used to being alone.
Now it wasn’t that she was alone; she had people around her day and night--the breathing of her staff just outside a tattered blue curtain night and day--enough work keep her busy every waking moment. No, she was lonely without Bill’s intimate company. They saw each other, but always in a group, or a rushed moment passing in the corridor.
Against her best intentions, the less time they spent together, the more she thought of him, until he was becoming some odd fantasy figure. The next thing she knew, she’d be caught by Tory making out with the air like Caprica Six had been doing in her cell.
Suddenly Bill was there, tidy and neat and perfectly normal--no celestial trumpets had sounded, or wings flapped behind his drab uniform.
Still feeling a bit dreamy, Laura said, “Admiral.”
“Madam President,” he replied, extending his hand. In a trance, she took it, and then snapped back to reality. He was actually shaking her frakking hand. My Gods, the hand that cradled her ass cheek perfectly, the fingers that have been up her vagina halfway to her heart, were giving her some limp handshake.
She was nearly speechless and could only dredge up, “How are you?” Inane. Inane.
He gave one of his quick sighs that suggested he’d rather be anywhere but there. “Very good,” he said, equally inane, but not seeming to find it offensive. The handshake done, he took one step back and started shifting from foot to foot.
She became very, very angry in one hot second. If they were going to be apart, he better not behave as though he preferred the situation. She smiled blindingly, and leaned forward until all that appeared above the table’s edge was her cleavage and the blouse that accentuated it.
She would start with a full confession; that always knocked him off guard; he was expecting her usual emotional evasion. “I’m sorry, I’m sure this all could have been done over the wireless, but very frankly, I was going stir-crazy on Colonial One and I had to get out.” Her voice sounded a bit frantic by the end, not the carefree image that she wanted to project.
His eyes warmed, and finally really looked at her, although carefully avoided staring at her chest...what would the scans show? “Deep space pilots used to call it O.B.E.”
She feigned interest; he was talking to her, talking about something besides the fuel supply and crew assignments. “What’s O.B.E?”
“Overcome By Events; and you’re always welcome here.” Now he seemed to be caught in the same odd vortex that she was; his words rushed out. “You know that.” His welcome washed over her, so cozy, but he was rocking like he was on a boat. Something wasn’t right about him; or was this him now? She hadn’t seen enough of him recently to be sure anymore.
She said, “You may not feel like that after you finish this. Tory actually drew up an agenda.”
He managed to not touch her hand when he took the report. With distaste, he said, “Baltar again.” She slurped more coffee as he read it, grumbling to himself. “Can’t we just give him back to the Cylons?”
She smiled. “You know how much I love that idea; unfortunately, given what little I was able to glean from the Caprica Six, I don’t think the Cylons will take him back, so we’re stuck.”
“Fine.” He was impatient suddenly; shaken from his lethargy. “We’ll try the son of a bitch and be done with it.”
Yes, let’s get it done, she thought, but it must be done right. She didn’t just want Baltar put out an airlock, or sentenced to life in the brig. She wanted--she needed--the truth from that sweaty bastard.
She told Bill, “We have to give him a trial but under what law? Caprican, Picon, Tauron?” He removed his glasses, his sign of a headache coming on. “We give him a jury trial-- do we set up a tribunal? We don’t even have anything closely resembling a comprehensive law library and this Fleet is not exactly brimming with legal talent.”
Bill twisted his mouth at the sound of that. “Bring lawyers into this and they’re gonna drag this out for months.”
Feeling playful again, she asked, “Wasn’t your father an attorney on Caprica?”
“Yes, and I told you I didn’t get along with him very well.” Now he wanted to remember their intimacy; his tight little smile relit her anger.
“Okay, okay, I’m ready to set up an organizing committee, but frankly, trying to get a room full of legal scholars to stay on task is like herding cats. So I need to set up a chairman of this committee.” She stood suddenly, leaning into him. He fought not to look down her blouse--or was he avoiding what she was saying? “Somebody who can make a hard decision and won’t get seduced and bogged down by all the legalese.”
Now he seemed interested. “Do you have a candidate?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. I was thinking Lee.” She drew out his son’s name, smirking with her own brilliance. “Like grandfather like grandson perhaps. Whatda think?”
Bill’s face got that astonished old hound dog look he did so well and that made her back teeth grind together. “I’m not gonna say he’s incapable of handling it, but--“
She stood straight; here it comes. “He’s never shown any type of interest in law.” Was Bill blind? Only for what he didn’t want to see, apparently. If it didn’t involve his son sitting in the cockpit of a Viper, he didn’t see it.
She looked away. “I know, but here’s the thing. We can use the lawyers to parse the law but we really need people who know the difference between right and wrong. Thus Lee.” She’d use Lee’s rigid moral code to squelch Baltar’s ambiguity. She’d never say that to Bill, but she found his son’s strict views tiresome sometimes, but it would be useful in this case.
“I’ll talk to him.” He gave a sharp nod without looking at her.
She leaned towards him again, but still garnered no reaction. “Good,” she said briskly, her tone a bit sharper than she’d intended.
He was walking away. “Also, Admiral?” He turned back. “I was wondering if you mind if I stayed on your ship for the rest of the day.”
“Please, by all means.” He seemed distracted again.
“This is very difficult for me to say, but I’m going to go to the gym.” She was trying to get a smile from him and only got the slight upturning of the corners of his lips.
Pained, he said, “Prepare yourself. On its best day, it smells like the inside of a shoe.”
The joke was barely funny, on its best day. Yet she laughed hysterically, finally managing to cut herself off with a sigh that became a hum, and mentally kicked herself in the ass. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic. He seemed to agree, leaving without a backward look. At least she wasn’t twirling her hair around her finger, fretting over her boyfriend leaving without a goodbye kiss.
The end Chapter Two>>>