Fic: Breaking Bread (Other Times) (Chapter 3)
“So Bill, since we checked our titles at the door tonight, tell me something about yourself that the Admiral would never want me to know.”
He had to credit her for being brave enough to be the first to take the plunge on date-like conversation. Not that this dinner was a date, of course, for that would be absolute folly, but he was pleased nevertheless to see that she shared his goal of getting to know each other better tonight. Now he just needed to come up with a revelation suitable for her question and this occasion (that was not a date).
“Well, the Admiral would probably never admit to anyone, least of all the President, that during his misbegotten youth he played in a band,” he told her, delighting in the way her face lit up at the thought.
“I am going to preface this, Bill, by saying that I am going to be tickled pink at the image either way, but was this band of the garage or the marching variety?” she asked with a laugh.
“Garage, of course,” he answered in mock indignation. “Do you seriously think I’d ever voluntarily admit to you that I once played fight songs at high school pyramid matches?”
“Come on, I love picturing you in the uniform.”
“You already get to see me in a uniform, Laura. Every day. Isn’t that enough?”
“Yeah, but not one with a spiffy little hat with a plume on it.”
“I wouldn’t think a teacher, of all people, would harbor such cruel thoughts about such a time-honored student activity,” he offered in reproof, chortling along with her, and realizing her laughter really was very much like music, so much so that he was already thinking of other revelations he might share to invite further teasing just so that he could listen to more.
“Oh you have no idea. But we can’t get off the subject here, because I have to know what instrument you played in your little garage band?”
“Keyboards,” he answered. “My parents insisted my sister and I take piano lessons as children. My mother loved classical music, and my father loved status, thought it would be a great way for us to appear more like real Capricans. When my mother and sister died, I didn’t want to play anymore, but my father wouldn’t have that.”
“So you rebelled and put your talents to the least dignified possible use?”
“Exactly.” He didn’t like talking about his parents, his mother because it made him sad, and his father because it made him angry, but she made it easier than normal to open up just a bit.
“So was this little band of yours any good?”
“We weren’t so bad. The dogs in the neighborhood only howled along on occasion.”
“And did you sing?”
“No,” he answered quickly laughing. “If I had, the dogs would have howled along on every occasion.”
“Well, I wish I could have witnessed a performance nevertheless. I’m sure your voice is better than you let on.”
“Trust me, it’s not,” he reassured her, secretly vowing to never let her hear the proof for herself. “My mates and I had grand and obviously ridiculous dreams for our band, but the war took us all in different directions.” He shrugged a bit, as he thought of his old friends, some of whom did not survive that first war.
“Would you have become a musician if not for the war?”
“No. I wasn’t that talented or motivated. And besides, I always wanted to be a pilot, the war just moved up the timeline on that particular ambition.”
“Do you still play?” She laughed a bit at herself then, no doubt realizing pianos were not standard issue on a warship. “Or did you when you were on shore leave?”
“Carolanne would not have liked the noise. And I had no interest in forcing the boys to take up an instrument the way my father forced me.”
“So does Lee not know about his father’s musical talents?”
“No, I guess he doesn’t.” He looked at her smiling back at him, knowing she was trying to gently encourage him to bond with his son, but his relationship with Lee was a can of worms he did not wish to open tonight. He was having too good a time. “So, Laura, it’s your turn I think. Tell me something about yourself that the President would never want me to know.”
“I’m not sure I can top the garage band.”
“Somehow I doubt that, Laura. Come on, don’t be shy.”
“Bill, you should have figured out by now that I am anything but shy.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” he responded with a chuckle. “But quit stalling and spill.” He really was quite eager to know what silly little secrets Laura Roslin was hiding.
“Okay, I too had some grand and ridiculous dreams in my youth, like, for instance, becoming an actress.”
“Why do I not find this shocking?” he teased, reveling in the small, guilty giggle his jab elicited. And he really didn’t find it shocking. With her poise and vibrancy, not to mention beauty, he could easily see her shining on the stage. Besides, acting and politics were not too far removed in his book.
“Actually, you’d be surprised, Bill, if you had known me as a child,” she explained. “I was really quite shy back then. I spent all my time with my nose in a book, dreaming about far away places. My mother worried that I wasn’t outgoing enough, so she got me started in a children’s theater. And when I realized that I could bring some of those magical, far away places that I liked to read about to life around me, I was hooked. I really blossomed, and if anything my mother had to worry that I was too outgoing from that point on.”
“So why did you become a teacher instead of the grand dame of the Caprican theater?”
“Well, first off, I was talented enough for community theater, but hardly good enough for the professional ranks.”
“Why do I sense there was more to it than that?” he asked almost impatiently, waiting for the punch line he was sure was coming.
She smiled back at him. “Indeed there was. You see my last great role, before going off to college, was as the lead in The Footlight Follies.”
“A musical?” he interrupted. “So you sang and danced on stage too?” He loved the thought of that. He also remembered that the costumes in The Footlight Follies tended toward the revealing side. He loved the thought of that even more.
“Of course, musicals are a staple at the local playhouse. Anyway, I was very excited to be the lead, and I danced and sang my heart out all week to great reviews. But closing night brought disaster.”
“Oh?”
“And Bill, you must swear to never repeat the story that follows to anyone, or I will have you summarily airlocked,” she warned him seriously, leaning in closer as if she were about to share a vital state secret.
“You have my word, Madame President,” he vowed with an eager grin, leaning in closer himself.
“Everything was going fine until the last number. If you’ve seen it, you know the Follies is a very complicated production, with lots of costume changes, so it was always chaos backstage. Well, as I took the stage for the finale, little did I know that the back of my skirt was tucked into the waistband of my stockings.”
“Oh no,” he offered beginning to laugh.
“Oh yes,” she answered with eyes dancing. “And Bill, you haven’t even heard the best part yet. Some of the costumes were so tight that one of my greatest fears was pantylines, and well I think you can figure out the rest.”
Indeed he could. And it was a visual he knew he would enjoy recalling in quiet moments for years to come. “Did you know while you were out there?” he asked trying not to laugh too hard.
“Of course I knew. First spin I executed, I caught a breeze. It’s not that funny, Bill,” she lectured, fighting back the tears of laughter in her own eyes.
“Yes it is, Laura. Did you run off stage?”
“No, I was a trooper and kept going. Managed to get the skirt righted midway through the number by way of some deft on-the-spot choreography. I was desperately embarrassed, of course, but I took my curtain call and I didn’t cry until I made it home.”
“Impressive.” He’d have paid a handsome price to witness her embarrassment then, but in all honesty an even handsomer price to witness her rise above it. It did not surprise him in the least that she had. He had long since learned that the woman was not only astonishingly strong, but also incredibly proud, and in the best sense.
“Needless to say, I lost my enthusiasm for drama, and I refused to join the campus players that fall. Eventually I got over it, though, and I did finally take some college drama courses, even got back on stage, but by then I was an education major and loved it, and I loved the idea of following in my mother’s footsteps even more, since I adored her so.”
“So all’s well that end’s well.”
“That’s the way I like to think of it. After all, look at me now. The whole experience taught me a valuable lesson to never stay down when life knocks you down, because if you do you’ll miss what’s waiting for you right around the corner.”
“Good lesson.”
“Indeed. I think that night, more than anything else in my past, prepared me to become president in the midst of an apocalypse,” she finished with a laugh.
“And to beat cancer,” he offered, raising his glass to her.
She nodded back to him, but her features darkened slightly. “I’m not so sure I had much to do with that, Bill, but at least I hung on long enough to get my miracle, such as it was.”
“Laura, all that matters is that you are alive. You are the same person you always were, now only healthy again.” After tonight, given how far they’d come, he was more determined than ever not to give a damn whose blood was coursing through her veins. This was the first time they had ever spent together that wasn’t tinged by distrust, or disquiet, or at the end even outright despair. He felt he was seeing her fully for the first time. No longer an obstacle. No longer a fading prophet. Now a partner, and a friend, and he could admit it, a woman. He wasn’t giving that up. Not to the Cylons, and not to her either.
“I’m trying to believe that, Bill, truly I am. I suppose I am still just sorting things out in my head. But thank you for the vote of confidence. It means a lot to me.” She smiled gamely.
“Laura, it’s fine to take some time to sort things out. I had difficulty, at first, coping with what happened to me.” Of course, Boomer’s bullets had ripped him apart, but they also had been removed. The Cylon child would be with her forever. That he could not change as much as he might like to, but he liked having her still with him more. “And you are luckier than I am.”
“Oh, how do you figure that?” She perked up immediately at the anticipated challenge of his words.
“I figure it like this, when I was recovering, I didn’t have you around to lean on, because we were in the … what are we calling it? The coup and …”
“Insurrection,” she offered helpfully, smiling impishly.
“Yes, the coup and insurrection phase of our relationship. Thank you.” He gave her an impish grin of his own before continuing. “I would have recovered much more quickly with the benefit of your support. It also would have helped immensely if I hadn’t had to chase you, my son, my wayward ace pilot, and your terrorist sidekick, Tom Zarek, back to Kobol.”
“And whose fault was that?” Her broadening grin elated him.
“Well, I don’t like to assign blame, Laura. I’d like to think we’ve both learned and grown from the experience. Agreed?”
“Ha!” She began to laugh. “My body might have taken a beating, Bill Adama, but my mind is as sharp as ever. No way you are backing me into an apology for what you did wrong.”
He laughed and then shrugged in mock surrender. “So you’re really never going to give me the satisfaction of meeting me half way on that?”
“Of course not. Who do you think you are dealing with?”
“Apparently the same woman I’ve always been dealing with, Laura.”
Clearly touched, her features softened at his words. “Touché Bill, and thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And I want to thank you too.”
“For what?”
“For sticking around.”
His heart thumped a bit faster in his chest as he watched the tears welling in her eyes. He considered getting out of his chair and going and taking her in his arms, but he feared holding her longer than was proper, knowing that she was not the kind of woman you ever wanted to let go once you had her in your arms. Before he could reach a decision on whether to take that risk, she rallied, not letting the tears fall.
“This calls for a toast. A real one this time, Bill, with real drinks.”
“No chance.” He smiled knowingly. She’d have to try for another diversion to check her emotions. Her health was too fragile for him to give in on this one.
“Bill, you owe me after attempting to feed me this,” she laughed as she gestured down to her plate, which was still over half full, and now looking even less appetizing, as the food had gone cold and begun to congeal.
“That may be true, but Jack would have my ass if I gave you any alcohol.”
“I thought you promised not to ever consult Cottle again on what to feed me?”
“That was food, Laura. This is drink.”
“Now whose the politician?” she offered with a laugh. “Seriously though, Bill, I am getting rolled back to Life Station as is, what harm can it do?”
“Well we won’t be finding out.” He loved the determined set of her jaw when she argued with him, but he wasn’t giving in, no matter how adorable she was.
“Well this just smacks of conspiracy. That or cowardice,” she teased.
“Self-preservation actually,” he explained. “I go in for my cardiac stress test in two days. I don’t want him mad at me when he puts me on that treadmill. Do you really want me for a roommate down there in Life Station?”
“Come on, Bill, imagine the pajama party we could have,” she offered with a laugh. “We could get matching bathrobes, with ‘Admiral’ and ‘President’ stitched on the pockets, hide Cottle’s cigarettes, and hold wheelchair races. Five cubits says Billy and I would leave you and the Colonel in the dust.”
Laughing, he threw up his hands. “Stop. I’m not giving you a drink, Laura, no matter how hard you make me laugh, or how easy you make it for me to take your money.”
“Fine. I surrender. And I suppose Billy and I wouldn’t stand a chance up against Viper jocks, even old ones.”
“Hey now!”
She winked at him as she continued. “But next time we are dining on Colonial One, so that I control the menu.”
“I’ll look forward to it. And Laura, you shouldn’t write this evening’s menu off so quickly. Remember, we haven’t had dessert yet.”
“Let me guess, gelatin?”
He laughed again as he stood and walked around the table to refill her water glass, leaning down as he did to speak into her ear. “Have a little faith, Laura, even in an old flyboy like me,” he teased. His heart skipped a quick beat, as he caught her smile in profile. She really was beautiful, radiantly and irrepressibly so, despite all that she had been through. As he walked over to the galley cart to prepare dessert, he gave himself a stern reminder that this dinner was not a date.
About to pull the covers off the dessert plates, he suddenly felt her presence peering over his shoulder. He shivered a bit at the sensation, hoping she took that as surprise on his part rather than exhilaration. Turning to look at her, he noticed that she had cleared their dinner plates and brought them to the cart. He saw through her ploy. “No peeking,” he told her, as he took the plates. “Go sit.”
“What’s the big secret, Bill?” she asked as she headed back to her chair.
“No secret,” he answered. “I just figured this is my last chance to get this dinner right, so I better make the most of the presentation.”
“I take it, then, that it is not gelatin.”
“No,” he laughed, “and you’ll be glad to know that Cottle had no hand in this particular menu selection either,” he finished as he turned toward her with the dessert plates in hand. He hoped Billy had steered him right. As he approached her and placed her plate down in front of her, the smile on her face suggested he had.
“Is this a lemon custard pie?”
“Could be,” he answered, smiling back at her as he sat down. “Unfortunately no fresh blueberries to top it with, but hopefully it will still be good.”
“Bill, how did you know that this is one of my favorites?”
“Billy.”
“You asked Billy for my favorite dessert?”
“I figured I’d take a shot and see if he knew. See if it was something the cooks on board could manage. Billy said he wasn’t sure, but that he thought it was this or chocolate ice cream.” He chuckled a bit as he looked at her, staring expectantly down at her pie, holding her fork tightly in her hand, but making no move to eat, like a child who can’t decide whether to unwrap a present, or just continue to enjoy the anticipation. “So did we do good?”
“More than good. I’m really touched, Bill. Thank you.”
He nodded gently, happily accepting her thanks. “It’s not every day of the week that somebody survives cancer, Laura. I figured that entitled you, at the very least, to the dessert of your choice.”
He noted that she was now on the verge of crying over her pie. He did not find it the least bit surprising that something simple and frivolous like a favorite dessert could unleash a flood of pent up and overwhelming emotions, of which she surely had more than her fair share. That always seemed to be the way. But he was not ready to cope with that kind of sentimental outpouring from her. Not now, for he was certain at this point, that if he held her tonight, he’d do something he’d regret. Last time he kissed her it was to say thank you and goodbye. That was all well and good, but they could not even remotely afford a kiss that meant hello.
“So does this get me off the hook for the bad food and the lack of booze?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood, trying to save himself from himself.
She smiled gratefully at him, as she quickly wiped a renegade tear from her cheek. “Absolutely. In fact, this is even better than drinks for toasting.” Laughing, she cut into her pie, and then held out her fork.
He laughed back, following her lead, and presenting his own bite of the pastry for tribute. “What are we toasting to this time?”
She paused for a brief moment, thinking, and then nodded warmly at him. “To finding the best of friends where you least expect them.”
He thought it the finest toast he’d ever heard. “Here, here,” he offered in smiling reply as they clinked their forks and then ate.
Finis! I know. I know. You want smut. ;-)