FIC: Eleven Hours ~ Chapter Five

[bugsfic]

Title: Eleven Hours
Author: bugs
Genre: Suspense, Romance, Drama
Rating: M
Word Count: 4,000
Timestamp: 18h, 18m
A/N: Who knew doing this plotting thing would take so much time? Dangit. Thanks to the aussie girl!



Chapter 5:

I'd been trying to get Bill to accept I was dying for weeks now, but hearing some faceless voice in the dark say it just ticked me off.

"Not anytime soon, if I've got anything to say in the matter," I said crisply. "Who the hell are you and what do you really want?"

The figure took a step back, pushing the hatch open more and allowing in the light.

"Dodona," I hissed in shock. My thoughts scrambled, trying to make sense of this. For the first time since my abduction, I was truly terrified. She'd been a friend for that brief year on New Caprica before the Cylons appeared, and then everything had gone wrong.

"You must die," Dodona said in her odd rusty-hinge voice.

Brandy peeked around the hatch jamb, her face distressed.

Realizing Dodona wasn't planning to kill me at the moment, I folded my arms. "Why?"

The oracle's maniacal laugh made me wince. "It's your destiny," she said as though speaking to a particularly stupid child.

"Okay." I used my own patronizing tone. "I assume you mean I need to die on your schedule?" Raising my chin, I assured her, "I am going to die. Don't worry about that."

"The Lords chose your destiny," she growled at me, taking a step forward. I leaned back. "And you are denying that destiny!"

"By taking treatment?" I shook my head. "Listen, fulfilling the Gods' prophecies is the reason I exist, but getting the fuel ration allocated correctly is just as important. Won't do any good to lead the Fleet to Earth if half the ships don't get there for want of food and fuel."

Dodona bared her stained teeth. She was obviously one of those people who doesn't like to hear about the boring realities of life. Time to play hardball.

"Priestess Selloi, if you kill me, Admiral Adama will never allow you to see Earth."

The woman's dried apple features contracted more. She backed away and started to close the hatch.

I rushed forward. "Please...I need food, water...You can't mean to have me die like this."

Dodona and Brandy were blocking the doorway. Pulling up, I forced myself to wait. The young girl glanced quickly at the oracle.

Twisting her fingers, Dodona seemed to be thinking. "Water. You can have water," she finally said.

I hated to beg-- "May I... I take chamalla and haven't had any today."

The oracle laughed harshly.

"No." Smirking, she said, "You don't like it, remember?"

She turned away, pushing Brandy out the hatch and slamming it in my face.

I slowly returned to the cot. Leaning against the bulkhead, I pulled my knees up to my chest.

In the months after the attacks, I had discovered an awakening faith with my cancer, relied on it through the struggle, but after my cure, I was surprised to find that I continued to pray and read the scriptures to seek answers, even after we found our 'safe haven' on New Caprica. Exposed on the surface, alone while surrounded by thousands, I sought solace from my concerns and answers to the myriad of questions that filled my mind.

I had met Dodona Selloi soon after moving to the surface. She had been one of the most vocal advocates for life on New Caprica, claiming that she'd had visions of this new human home since the attacks had driven us into exile from the Colonies. Ever the opportunist, Baltar had latched onto her, and she became the official oracle to the President.

So I'd kept my distance. But Maya and a few others in the education tents wanted a reading from the famous seer. I went along out of curiosity and fear.

Maya wanted her child's future read. The oracle lay a hand on the baby's dark head. "I see her in a field of green...Her mother has one hand...Her father has another."

My sharp intake of breath was drowned out when Trish, one of the other teachers' aides, leaned forward to say: "Maya, honey, you're getting married again!"

The young woman smiled and dipped her head shyly.

But Dodona looked at me, not Maya, her gaze speculative.

All the others received their readings, and either giggling or pensive, made their way from the dim tent.

I was the last at the flap. "You don't want to know your future, Laura?" asked the oracle.

"I know what lies ahead for me," I said. "And it's a stack of essays to grade."

She laughed. "You of all people should want to know my visions."

I grew angry. "No, not really. You need to use your great powers for the President."

Leaving before I said anything else, I stormed through the tent city, back to my canvas home.

My next encounter with Dodona was much more anti-climatic. She arrived at a prayer group I participated in, but remained quiet and reflective while we chanted and sang.

I forgot she was there until she appeared at my side. "The Gods do hear your prayers. You shouldn't doubt that."

"Did I say I did?"

"I can feel it."

I gave her a tight smile. "Of course."

She ignored my caustic words. "Besides, our fate isn't your problem anymore."

I exited the tent and Dodona followed.

Staring across a muddy field, I stated, "I don't stop caring because I'm not President anymore."

Her eyes cast upward. "You can still care."

I shrugged.

"You'll come to the festivities, won't you?" she asked.

"Of course. I'm a patriot," I said dryly.

"Perhaps you should go as a woman, not some figurehead," she suggested, her animated face inquisitive.

"I'm not like the girls. I don't need to snare some man."

I'd given her what she needed. Dodona grinned widely. "No, you do not," she said wickedly, nipping away before I could give her a retort.

I wanted to yell after her, he's not coming! Not after what I'd said to him...

But maybe she did have the gift of sight. Bill Adama did come to the groundbreaking to see me.

As the months passed, I thawed to her, accepting her unflagging optimism, even if I doubted that she was truly seeing a future of bountiful harvests and sun-filled days such as we'd had for Founders Day. We all needed hope, after all.

Perhaps I needed a friend too. Our community began to form into its logical cliques and groups but there was no real place for a former president receiving surreptitious visits from the Admiral. The young people in particular drifted off into a natural pattern of bondings and breakups, small dramas and easy joy.

When I mentioned that they made me feel old and grumpy sometimes, Bill told me, "Welcome to my world."

I rolled over to prop myself on his chest. He was on his back, hands behind his head, gazing up through the green tree canopy above us. "The Old Man..." I pulled his tags out from the neck of his tanks and played with the metal pieces.

"Yup. All those kids, screwin' and fightin' around you, and you gotta be the adult all the time," he said with a sigh.

I giggled and dropped his tags to nestle my head on his chest. "Poor Bill. And you want to be doing that too?"

He took the bait. "At least one, if you don't mind." His firm arms wrapped around me, holding me loosely but close, not pushing anything.

Sweeping back my hair to look at him, I smiled. "I don't mind."

His fingers twined through the curls. "Still growing," he said approvingly.

Before I leaned in for a kiss, I caught sight of a flash of yellow silk scarf, flitting away through the trees. But Bill's insistent touch distracted me from any embarrassment.

Still, I expected Dodona to gloat at her second sight the next time I saw her. Instead, she seemed distracted and fretful.

"Laura, I'm surprised you haven't continued to explore your gift from the Gods."

"Which one's that?" I asked lightly.

"You've been to Kobol; you have seen the visions given to you by our Lords."

"Yes."

"But you don't seek any more visions?"

"I think if the Gods want me to see something, they will. I don't need to perform for my supper." I realized that sounded critical of her work.

She didn't seem to take offense. "You...How were you cured?" she asked. "You were the dying leader, and then you weren't, yet we've found our new home."

"It wasn't my choice..." I shook my head. I hadn't really talked to anyone about this. Bill wouldn't even start the conversation, and Doctor Cottle would only echo my words: It wasn't my choice.

And this wasn't Earth; our real home still lay somewhere beyond our farthest stars.

"You haven't seen anything since you were cured?" she asked.

"No--" I chuckled. "Haven't been taking chamalla either."

"I can give you some," she said quickly.

I laughed outright, although I was still uncomfortable. "I'll pass. As I said, we don't need my visions these days."

"The Gods spared you."

"I don't know about the Gods--"

"The news said Doctor Baltar had found a cure, but..."

Her eyes were bright and feverish and I was increasingly uneasy. I'd never been the best liar, and I'm sure my flushed face told more than I wished. Suddenly I could remember every time I'd held Hera in Dodona's presence, every smile I'd given the child--I had to find a way out of this.

"The Goddess Hera saved me. My prayers were answered."

"But why would you want to live? If your destiny--"

At the time, I was simply impatient with her barrage. "It wasn't time," I said shortly.

"The Gods told you this?"

"Dodona, that's not important now. You're happy here, aren't you?"

She twisted her fingers nervously and her voice squeaked. "Yes, yes. I've never been happier. But something doesn't feel right."

"It's just this rainy spell. Everyone's down," I had said briskly.

The next time I met the oracle in the marketplace, she had the smugness of someone who has secret information. With concern, I realized she'd been to see President Baltar. Although she was supposed to be giving him consultations, I'd learned that she supplied him with the native weed to smoke as well as chamalla. She still had a buzz on.

Slapping my arm lightly, she smirked at me. "Laura, Hera saved you indeed!"

"I don't know what you mean," I said, rising from the cafe stool.

"Hera was a baby--"

Damn that arrogant man; Baltar couldn't pass on the opportunity to crow about his accomplishment. "Please lower your voice," I ordered. "It's the past now, but we shouldn't spread this information. The baby died when she was born and the cure with her."

Her mood suddenly switching, Dodona's face crumpled into deeper grooves. "Laura, how could you? The Gods had a plan for you and you defied them with Cylon blood--"

"I don't want to talk about this." I turned away.

"What if They decide to punish us?" she asked, her fretfulness back.

"There's nothing to worry about," I told her, not bothering to even look at her. She couldn't possibly know Hera was still alive, but the dark light in her gaze disturbed me, and I decided to avoid her from now on.

It had not been the storm clouds Dodona sensed gathering. When the Cylons had appeared shortly after our last meeting, I would have given anything for her visions, to see where the remaining Fleet was, if they survived, if we could hope for a rescue, but she was one of the first to be detained, and when she was returned, she had been shattered and useless.

The cold seeped into my limbs. I tugged the thin blanket on the cot around my shoulders, keeping my eyes on the hatch, willing someone to come with relief; freedom, food or drugs.

"Dammit," I grumbled.

Not at my distress or physical pain. I cursed one man. I was no oracle, but I knew exactly what he was thinking right now, and there was nothing I could do to change it.

I had looked down at the lump under the blue blanket. Only a shock of salt and pepper hair poked out of the top, his head burrowed down in the pillow. He was like a child sleeping, until he reacted to my sharp-toned "Bill" and peered out with red-rimmed, bleary eyes, revealing his scruffy cheeks and dry lips.

"Huh," he coughed out.

"It's morning," I announced.

"Uh huh." He started to pull the blanket back up.

"Lee's leaving Galactica in an hour." I glanced around my quarters, grateful to see no sign of intestinal distress. "I assumed you'd want to be there," I said dryly.

He struggled out the blanket. "kay," he groaned, clutching his head as he reached for the floor with his wavering feet.

Leading him toward the head, I had to wonder aloud: "Did you drink more after you left?"

"Nah," he muttered, then pointedly closing the hatch in my face to give himself privacy.

When I heard the toilet flush, I flung open the hatch. "I brought toiletries and a change of underwear."

"Thanks." He turned on the shower to boiling hot but stood waiting for me to leave.

Ignoring his signal, I began unpacking the small travel bag, handing over his shampoo and a cake of soap. After giving me a grumpy squint, he put them in the shower stall and struggled out his tanks with an uncomfortable sounding belch.

"Sorry," he muttered as he pushed down his boxers.

"You'll want to brush your teeth." I found his toothbrush and the tube of toothpaste in the bag, putting them out on the counter.

Only another grumbly noise came from the shower as he stepped under the spray.

Next came the clean boxers and double-tanks. I stacked them up and retrieved his crumpled uniform from the room, hanging it by the shower to steam out the creases. With nothing more to do, I leaned on the sink and waited, suddenly nervous.

He peeked around the shower curtain. "Wanna join me?" he had the gall to say.

I looked him over. His hair was still a wild mess, now half-soaped. The bags under his eyes hung halfway down his rough cheeks. He was rubbing the bar of soap across his broad chest, bubbles running over his belly and catching on his half-erect penis.

Men.

Or at least this particular man. That he could summon any sort of arousal this morning was probably a sign to him that all was right in the worlds.

I raised one eyebrow and remained silent.

He gave a half-hearted shrug and dropped the curtain back.

Tossing him a bone, I said, "I've already done my hair."

"Yeah," he grumbled, his stocky shadow turning under the water behind the steamy curtain.

Why was I the one feeling guilty? I stormed back into the room and waited for him in the chair, going over some paperwork from my desk.

Bill finished quickly and appeared before me, standing at attention, now clean-shaven.

"Need to go put on my dress grays," he said.

"And eat breakfast." I rose from the chair.

He made a face.

Before leaving, I made a point of gathering up his toiletries. He wasn't spending another night here.

He took the bag from me. "Let's go."

I laced my arm through his and nodded. His big hand covered mine and his heat soaked into my brittle bones.

He seemed less content when we returned from the hangar and Lee's parting. I had a lot on my mind as well, and after kicking off my shoes, wandered the quarters aimlessly.

It felt odd that Lee, as my newest Quorum member, left Galactica while I remained behind. Yet at the same time, Bill must see it as a losing a son, while I'd somehow gained a stepson.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Bill stripped off his sash, tucking it away in its drawer. Unbuttoning his tunic, he hung it in the closet.

"Suppose I should get to work," I said listlessly. Or pack to move out. I wasn't sure where we were at after last night.

"Let it wait an hour," he said, catching my hand as I paced past him and pulling me into his arms.

I grumbled at the back of my throat, even as my hand settled on his shoulder and my other arm curled between our bodies, finding warmth and comfort.

"We can't," I whispered.

He flicked open my blazer. "Got a meeting?" he asked and before I could answer, "Cancel it."

"No..." I found tears pricking at my eyelashes. "We can't--" I repeated. "My treatment was only a day ago--"

His roaming hands stopped. "You're tired--"

My heart was thundering and my fingers couldn't stopped jittering across his firm chest and arms. I'd never been so awake in my life. "It's not that. Doctor Cottle warned me that we should use condoms--"

"He told me the same thing."

My hands stopped. "Doc Cottle's talked to you--"

"I talked to him."

I peered up at him around my hair. "Good," I finally said.

His hands still weren't moving. "I don't want to harm you--"

"I don't want to hurt you either."

"Don't worry about me." His deep voice rumbled under my ear, but I still chuckled.

"That's my Bill, ever the stoic manly man. You're not worried that I'll poison your most precious possession."

His arm tightened again. "It's not my most precious possession."

"All right. Most precious body part."

"Like your body parts better." He'd somehow gotten my blouse unbuttoned. He did have a way about him, I must say. He may not be poetic, but everything sounded sincere with that voice.

He led me to the rack and I slipped out of the rest of my clothes and between the sheets.

"Hate to think of you buying condoms," I said nervously, waiting for him to strip and join me.

"Cottle passed me a box," he said with a chuckle as he pulled me close.

A box sounded promising. I latched onto his neck, suckling and nipping at his tough hide. My fingernails bit into his back, pulling him atop of me. I remembered the things he'd said to me the night before, what I'd spat back. I ground my pelvis on his hipbone, quickening my heartbeat.

He tried to kiss me gently, slowing my assault. His broad thumb stroked my flushed cheeks. He even dared to put a light kiss on the end of my nose.

I gripped his penis, twisting my fist until he hissed and surged into my hand. But he grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

"No rush. We rule the Fleet. No one's waiting for us," he said mildly.

It only made me more frustrated. Summoning all my strength, I pushed him over and crawled above him, pinning his penis under me. I literally had him in my power.

He could still hold my arms and stop my movement.

"Not like this," he said.

"Like what?"

"At the end, Carolanne could only do it if she was pissed at me. If we're to that point, I..."

He ran out of steam. Bill was never much of a talker, even in bed.

I scooted off him. "Okay."

Remaining on his back, he ran a finger up and down my upper arm.

"So." I stared up at the riveted panels above the rack. My desire disappeared like water down a drain. I had needed my anger to become aroused, even taking chamalla. With treatment, I'd noticed an immediate effect and I didn't like it at all. I didn't have time to learn how to have sex again.

"Just lie back..." He hovered over me, tracing my cooling skin with light fingertips and warm lips.

"And think of Delphi?" I never could just keep my mouth shut.

But he only laughed. "Let me make love to you," he said fatally.

He always made it seem so easy. My eyelids drifted shut. He rustled in the cabinet above the pillows. The cap of a bottle popped open and his hand slid between my legs, now slickened.

He rolled my clit between his fingers, gentle but insistent.

We had planned a camping trip on New Caprica to explore my lake. Of course it had poured rain and we'd hidden out in his Raptor instead. Dripping wet and shaking with cold, I'd asked, "Now what?"

He stood still, just watching me to the point of making me nervous.

Finally he spoke. "I've been thinkin' a lot. About what I wanted to do to you."

Do to you wouldn't usually sound very sexy but when coupled with that intense gaze...

What he'd wanted to do...

I found myself hanging onto the harness attached to the Raptor's bulkhead, for lack of any other support. My legs had given out one orgasm ago, and on his knees before me, Bill hadn’t offered much help. His tongue and lips suckling on my clit, his fingers buried deep, that mustache tickling across my mons--the stimulation was too much but I would have killed him if he'd dared stop.

I had liked his kind of fantasies. And now they gave me handy fantasies to drive my arousal right back up to the ends of my nerves. Was it wrong to fantasize about the man you're already having sex with to get excited?

A foil wrapper crinkled. I loved the silky soft skin of Bill's penis, the throb of its heavy vein, but now it was encased in latex, numb as my nipple in his mouth.

Rocking above me, he brushed back my hair and my heart seized with worry for a moment. His brow furrowed as I tightened around him.

"Damn woman." He rested his head beside me on the pillow, fighting his breathing.

I gripped his shoulders, squeezing the thick muscles. He'd be strong enough for both of us. Somehow I found the energy to wrap my legs around his waist, lift my mouth to meet his lips, and bury my fingers in his hair--to let it ride, just ride down the slide until my nerves quaked and burned.

It wasn't the best. But it was good enough, all things considered. It was made better to see Bill happy, that he believed everything was right again. That creased face relaxed, the set mouth smiled, the sad eyes glistened with gladness.

And then he had gone behind my back and let Kara go follow her vision.

Men. That man.

The hatch creaked open. I struggled free from the blanket.

"Ms. Roslin," whispered Brandy. "Your water."

I focused behind her at the bright room outside my cell, but there were several women watching me. Escape was impossible.

I took the glass from her. "Thanks," I said shortly, drinking deeply.

Tasting chamalla's bitterness, I said, "Thank you so much."

End ~ Chapter Five