Holiday I

Caprica was a planet blessed with water. It was essentially a vast ocean with only a handful of land masses, most of them small. The largest, the central continent, was home to the population of the planet and an enormous island, offering miles upon miles of shoreline for its inhabitants to enjoy.

Laura was doing just that at the moment, peering out the window of an observation car of the Coastal Rail as it slipped along the eastern coast, headed north. She and Bill occupied a black, leather lounger for two at the front of the carriage’s upper level and were watching the scenery drift by on its way to meet the horizon.

There were others in the car, too, seated on similar loungers and matching chairs. Some were sipping drinks, some eating snacks, some pointing out things they saw to their companions or children while she and Bill sat just watching, just listening, just … content.

Laura was settled into him, tucked against his side and basking in his warmth while the rest of her reveled in just being with him. He was so still save for the steady rise and fall of his chest and the occasional shifting of his arm that lay along the back of the lounger. Sometimes he lifted it to gesture toward something he saw out in the sea or on the shore. Other times he did it to touch her, fingers drifting over her hair or shoulder.

His ability to be that still, that calm and collected fascinated her. It reminded her of a saying she’d heard once: still waters run deep.

With Bill, that was definitely the case. He reminded her of a pond or lake on a cool morning and how, before the breeze or fish woke, the surface was placid, smooth like glass, while strong, deep currents flowed unseen beneath. Currents of thoughts, emotions, and desires that broke the surface only when he allowed or was coaxed, coming in the form of smiles and laughter, of tears, frowns, and scowls, of words rumbled or rasped, kisses, caresses, and trembling breaths.

Laura felt herself blessed to know what lay beneath his composed exterior, that keen intelligence and sly sense of humor, the depths of his passion and that unflinching, all-encompassing love. She had never known anyone to love so fearlessly, so intensely, and yet so tenderly and faithfully as Bill did. It was both humbling and empowering to be loved that way. It made her heart race and her knees go weak and repainted her world, her life, from shades of gray to beautiful, brilliant colors. When she’d told him he’d made her feel real again, she had meant it.

Her eyes tracking the scenery that the sleek train glided past, Laura savored that feeling, being alive and living. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she was taking an actual vacation, one that didn’t have a meeting or conference or official visit attached, that was about going somewhere just to get away and have fun, with someone. Her joining him at the shore when he was planetside last hadn’t been about those things but comfort — his need for it and her need to provide it. Fun and romance had been the last things on her mind, but now they were first and foremost. She wanted both, to not think about responsibilities and just enjoy herself and him like they had the weekend they met, but now with a growing and deepening love in the mix.

Laura found herself excited at the prospects for the week ahead. They had slipped away from her home in the early morning light, hopped the Costal Rail with their travel bags, and headed up the coast to a place she’d never been, but where he’d been born and spent the early years of his life.

Qualai. It was a small town on the northern continental coast. Its population of just under four thousand enjoyed life on a rugged shore and most made their living in the commercial fishing operations that ran out of the town’s main harbor.

Bill had arranged accommodations for them on the outskirts of the city, a beach house owned by a long-time friend who was spending the winter at a second home on the southern shore, where it was warmer, sunnier, and drier.

As the train took them steadily northward, Laura noted how the skies had turned to mostly gray, a blanket of clouds blocking out the bright and warming rays of sunlight, replacing them with fine mists and sprinkles, even moderate showers, raindrops speckling the window from time to time.

She loved the rain. She loved how it smelled, how it felt and sounded. It was cleansing and a shelter, reminding her of how water had once been a veil for her tears, masking them from the world when she’d desperately needed it. Right now, the rain was a traveling companion for her and Bill, which seemed fitting considering how often it had knit them in a cocoon of intimacy where love had unexpectedly taken root and grown. It grew still and She was thankful for that, and for Bill.

Laura smiled. Because of the winter solstice gala last night, they had initially planned to pack today and make the drive up to Qualai tomorrow but Bill had surprised her this morning, waking her very early and showing her the tickets for the train. She’d loved it even though she’d just barely had enough time to pack the things she’d need and grab a shower before the cab arrived, even though they hadn’t slept all that long.

It was worth it. This was far less stressful than a drive would have been and admittedly more comfortable and faster. It would take almost half the time it would have otherwise, giving them two more days in Qualai and, with no traffic to contend with, they could just sit back and enjoy the ride and view without having to worry about keeping an eye on the road. They could nap even, if they wanted, and Laura thought she might but she wanted some lunch first.

Her thumb rubbing against his thigh, over the heavy fabric of his jeans heated by his warmth, she sighed contentedly then leaned her head back against his arm and looked over at him. “I’m hungry,” she said softly, instantly lost in that unfathomable blue of his gaze.

“Want to eat up here or go to the dining lounge?” he asked.

That was an easy choice. “Up here,” she replied with a smile. “I love the view.”

He smiled, looked up and motioned to one of the attendants, who brought over a pair of menus. She and Bill perused them, picked out what they wanted then called the attendant back. The young man called in their order then came back with a colleague to release a pair of hidden latches on one of the wooden panels from the side wall of the car and remove it.

Having only ever ridden the commuter rails in Caprica City, Laura watched the attendants work, fascinated by how they turned the panel, which she’d thought just a part of the wall, into a dining table for two before her eyes. They set it in front of the lounger once it was assembled then secured the feet into camouflaged slots in the floor before retrieving a tablecloth, napkins and flatware to prep for their meal.

After they poured glasses of water, brought cups of hot tea, and wandered away, Laura turned to Bill. “Gods, Bill, this must have cost you a fortune,” she said, trying to imagine what the price tag had to be for this level of service. She might not know much about this type of rail, but she knew what she’d just seen was not bottom- or mid-level service.

Typical Bill, he just shrugged, gave her an enigmatic smile, and put sugar in his tea … well, her tea, she realized as he handed over the cup and saucer to her. She watched him fix his own. When he settled back in his seat, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You’re spoiling me,” she said softly.

He glanced at her, his smile broadening when he simply replied, “Yes.”

They drank their tea then ate their meal when it was served. Once they were done, the attendants cleared the dishes then put the table away in as efficient a manner as they’d assembled it, leaving Bill with a snifter of fine brandy. Laura had declined one for herself, but occasionally steal a sip from his glass, enjoying how the smooth warmth settled in her stomach as she watched the sky grow grayer and the wind churn the sea.

After a while, her stomach full and brandy mingled in, she began to feel all cozy and wanted to close her eyes for a bit. The lounger wasn’t long enough for her to stretch out beside him, so she settled for lifting his arm and ducking beneath it and guiding it around her as she lay her head on his shoulder.

“It looks cold out,” she said, glancing out the window before closing her eyes.

“It is.” His voice was a sexy-soft rumble. “They were forecasting a hard freeze of the entire region north of Olympia overnight.”

“Mmmmm.” She rubbed his leg. “Will we reach Qualai before nightfall?”

“Should be arriving around sunset. We’re a little over halfway now.”

“Okay,” she said then sighed.

A dozen or so breaths later, Bill asked, “You going to nap?”

“Mmmm-hmmm,” she hummed.

“Not going to be very comfortable like that,” he rumbled.

Smiling, Laura rubbed his thigh in a caress, “I’m okay.”

He shifted, though, just lightly and she opened her eyes, saw an attendant approach. Bill handed him the mostly empty brandy snifter and he departed. Bill’s arms came around her then and he unexpectedly and effortlessly moved her into his lap. She caught his gaze in surprise, and he smiled at her, murmured, “Make yourself comfortable.”

Unable to resist, not caring where they were or who saw, Laura happily made him her bed and pillow. Once she was settled, head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arms loosely around her and she closed her eyes again — feeling definitely more comfortable than she had been in the other position — and whispered her thanks.

He kissed her brow in response and cuddled her close. She let the sound of the train and the steady thump-thump of his heart lull her into a light sleep.