Lazy Afternoon IV

Curled into the far end of her couch, Laura watched her soldier sleep. His feet rested in her lap, covered by the blanket she’d retrieved from her bedroom closet, keeping them and the lower part of his body warm.

He looked so desperately vulnerable in the waning light of day and flicker of the muted vid unit. He had outdone himself with her since last night. He’d been everything she’d asked of him and more, given her exactly what she needed and then some. It amazed her that she had only known him these few hours, that she had found near-perfect intimacy with a man whom she knew so little about.

He was a military officer, a commander she believed, and served on a battlestar, the Valkyrie according to the patch on the sweat pants he’d been wearing earlier and his uniform shoulder. He’d been married at least once and his given name was William, his last Adama. He liked his coffee black and to help around the house. He wore glasses, was a pyramid fan, and was remarkably good in bed, or wherever else intimacies were engaged. He was also refreshingly direct and honest, not to mention considerate.

Thunder rolled in the distance, drawing Laura’s gaze to the gray remains of the day outside. After waking from a nap in her bed earlier, she’d re-entered the living room to find it unusually dark due to the weather. She’d opened the blinds to let in a bit more light and to better see the man sleeping soundly on her couch.

He hadn’t stirred at the change in lighting, nor when she’d worked her way under his feet and into her current position. He’d only sighed and slipped into a deeper sleep when she’d rubbed his soles and arches through the blankets.

He needed the rest, she surmised. Gods knew he’d earned it. His stamina and resiliency had surprised her. She wasn’t sure how old he was, but knew he was old enough to know that both were not as they had been even just a few years ago.

It was one of those frustrating ironies of life, that when you begin to truly appreciate and celebrate the complexities of sex and sexuality, and all the act offered beyond feeling good, that the body began to let you down. She had a bit of experience with that herself, adequate arousal slow to arrive and sometimes it didn’t arrive at all. Neither had been the case since last night. Her body had been incredibly cooperative for Bill, perhaps because of him, perhaps because she’d cut the millstone from around her neck in ending things with Richard.

She had to admit the relationship had been going nowhere for a while, not that it’d gone anywhere to begin with. She hadn’t expected it to, of course, or even wanted it to. He was married, his wife a nice woman, if a bit preoccupied with the children and charities and managed by her mother.

That had suited Laura fine. She hadn’t wanted anything more than what an affair offered, fairly regular sex that took care of physical needs without the emotional ups and downs of a romantic relationship. It still had its pitfalls, though, particularly considering Richard was her boss and president of the Colonies. Discretion had been an absolute necessity, and then there’d been the changes in him as his power and popularity grew over the years. The sex had become perfunctory, just enough excitement to facilitate the act at the right time and under the right circumstances. If there was any stress at all, it just didn’t happen, and there’d been a lot of that lately, professional between them and his job itself, and personal, also between them and others.

Laura didn’t hate him and he wasn’t a bad man. He was just drifting further from the man she once knew, admired and cared for, and that bothered her. Once she’d brought it up, telling him to stay true to the course he’d set himself on in the beginning, and received a lecture on the necessity of compromise as a leader, which had pissed her off. She understood well the need for compromise in a democracy in order for things to function smoothly, but she didn’t like that he was compromising himself and his principles and told him so.

That had been an angry night, with a bout of angry sex that had left her empty, and it had been the beginning of the end for them, she realized. He had been different after that and so had she. Her respect for him had fractured and he’d sensed it, turning their intimacies into little more than quick, mechanical fraks that neither of them really enjoyed but couldn’t seem to walk away from. It had become a matter of pride for him, which explained his descent into male territorialism. For her, it had become an altar for her self-worth and she’d grown weary of the sacrifice.

But that had stopped last night, and she would not go back to it. Not after last night and today, not after spending time on a different altar, one that made her feel good about herself and the man who’d joined her on it.

Laura would wager that Bill had spent time on that other alter himself, probably a lot longer than she had, making her glad she’d never loved Richard like Bill had apparently loved his wife. Being there had been painful enough without the embroilment of the heart and the binding of law. Not to mention the ties of children.

Looking back to Bill, she wondered if he was a father. He seemed the traditional sort, the kind of man who would want a family, complete with children, and he was certainly old enough to have a few. She could easily see him with a son or daughter, maybe one of each. There was a gentleness in him that children would be drawn to, that she was drawn to herself, and steadfastness and strength that made one feel safe.

From the moment she’d bumped into him in that hallway at the governor’s mansion, she’d felt safe with him. It was an interesting thing to feel, considering she didn’t trust all that easy. But she hadn’t stopped to think about things with him. She’d just gone on impulse and impression, following them from moment to moment, to this moment, and she had no regrets, planned to follow them for as long as they lasted and to wherever they led. It wasn’t the sort of thing she usually did, but everything about it felt right and good and she wanted to hold onto that feeling for as long as possible, knowing the discord of the outside world would reassert itself soon enough.

As if on cue, her phone rang. She cursed as she extracted herself from the couch and Bill, who was stirring. If she reached it soon enough, he might go on back to sleep, if she didn’t…

She didn’t. Glancing over her shoulder as she picked up the handset, she saw him sitting up. Frak.

“Hello?” she said into the handset then cringed when she heard the voice on the other end of the line. Richard. He was going to some informal dinner downtown with his cronies and was asking her to come to discuss education policies. She knew better. The bunch he was dining with didn’t have any interest in education. He was looking for a frak.

“I’m busy,” she told him.

“The hell you are. I know you, Laura. You’re holed up all alone with some frakking book. Come on down and let me put a smile on your face.”

There was a time that line would have charmed the stockings off her. Now it just seemed … crass. She was torn between rolling her eyes, vomiting and hanging up.

“I already have plans,” she said firmly, hoping the silent “and I’m not going to change them” came through loud and clear, and that he was listening. She knew he was when the line went silent.

She heard anger in his voice when he next spoke. “Who’re you frakking?”

The question pissed her off like nothing had in twenty years, but she gritted her teeth, replied with a polite “Have a good evening,” then hung up the handset. She reached and unplugged the line from the jack, knowing she would pay for it later, but she was not going to dignify his question with an answer. It was none of his damned business and she didn’t want to deal with him any more tonight. First thing Monday morning, she’d take care of it then.

Closing her eyes, she tried to shake off the anger and annoyance, a task that got significantly easier when a pair of strong arms eased around her waist and a warm kiss was pressed to her shoulder. There was a slow exhale then, a sound that struck her as distinctly masculine. A question followed.

“Do I need to go?”

Laura covered his hands with hers, shook her head. “No.”

Another sigh, this one of obvious relief. “Good.”

Laura smiled and hummed, covered his hands. His body was deliciously warm at her back, his head heavy as he lay it on her shoulder. “Are you hungry?” she asked softly.

“Yeah.” It was a sleep-filled rumble.

“You want to eat in or go out?”

He put the ball in her court. “You have a preference?”

Laura had considered that earlier. She had things they could fix here, but she thought they could use a bit of a break and some fresh air, albeit cold and wet. “There’s a little restaurant I like not far away. It’s quiet, has good wine and fresh bread,” she suggested.

“Mmm, sounds good.”

Gods, he was agreeable. “Yeah?” she wanted to confirm.

“Yeah,” he replied, easing his hold on her. “Let’s go.”

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