Acceptance

Frowning, Bill Adama entered his quarters. Laura should have been inside, resting, but her Marine guard was nowhere in sight. Glancing around, he continued to the back of the quarters only long enough to determine she wasn’t there. “Frak…” After the argument they’d had, throwing the harshest weapons either of them had used on the other, he’d stormed out, in search of…anywhere she wasn’t. A prospect that both terrified him and filled him with disgust for himself. The things she’d said were indeed only the truth, only her delivery had been harsher than she’d ever used with him on a personal level. They’d cursed, yelled, argued and fought with each other in their professional capacities, and as any couple, had disagreed on occasion, however…the words he’d hurled at her, and she back at him were ones they could never take back. Closing his eyes, he took off his glasses and rubbed them wearily. They’d taken out their fears and grief on each other…the bitterness and acidity of words their effectively vindictive weapons.

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and scanned the room. Her folders were still on the desk, half in a neat pile, the rest scattered and open, in various stages of completion. Which only meant she would come back, eventually. He hoped. Crossing to the desk, he sank down into the chair she’d used, staring blindly at the folders and trying to think about where she could be. Glancing absently downward, his eyes had moved on before what he saw registered. Blinking, he reached down and picked up the small metal canister that served as a trash receptacle. Only, it wasn’t crumpled paper that was lying on top…but something he immediately recognized. Hesitantly he picked up the glistening strands of auburn that curled around the few pieces of paper in the canister. “Frak.” Clasping them in his fist, he stood and started pacing again. He’d made two circuits of the room before something else registered, and he looked back at the desk. No briefcase. Then back at the cart where he kept bottles of what passed for ambrosia as well as a pitcher of water. One of the bottles and a glass were missing.

All right. Liquor and a glass. No briefcase. She needed to go somewhere that she wouldn’t be disturbed, and no one would come looking…Turning on his heel he strode back to the hatch. “Gentlemen, you’re dismissed.” With a nod at the Marines that had accompanied him back to his quarters, he continued down the corridor, leaving them behind in a stunned silence. All right. Either she’d done the same thing and dismissed her guards or they’d accompanied her. Or, and this was also within the realm of possibilities, she’d dismissed them and they’d ignored her, following her to make sure she was all right.

Charging down two sets of ladders, he continued toward the aft part of Galactica, deftly eluding the few people he passed along the way. Another set of ladders and around a bulkhead, he stopped. “Lieutenant.”

“Sir.” The man snapped to attention, a relieved expression crossing his face. “The President…”

“Dismissed you?” Bill’s eyebrow raised.

“Yes sir.” He glanced behind him and nodded. “Beltzer’s a little ways down. We followed her, but stayed out of sight.”

“Good.” Bill moved slightly, gazing down the corridor. “She actually found her way to the Aft Observation Deck herself?”

“Yes sir.” He grimaced. “Didn’t even pause.”

“You stand relieved Lieutenant.” Bill rested his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “I’ll let Sergeant Beltzer know. Report back to my quarters at eight hundred hours.”

“Sir…” The man hesitated a moment before nodding. “Yes sir.”

“Dismissed.” Bill moved past him, pausing to dismiss the man waiting another twenty feet down the corridor. Continuing to the hatch to the Observation Deck, he paused only a moment before spinning the handle, hoping she hadn’t locked it. When the hatch swung open, he slowly stepped through and closed it, locking it behind him. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he glanced around the room, finally seeing her profile as she sat, curled on one of the padded seats of a viewport, her head resting against the frame of the port. Not sure if she was awake or not, he waited, and was finally rewarded by the sight of her lifting a glass to her mouth.

“Did they call you?” Not moving, her voice was soft enough to barely be heard. “I know they followed me.”

“No.” Bill took a cautious step forward. “I had a feeling.”

“Hmm.” Laura took another swallow. “I think we’ve both had quite enough feeling for today. Feeling sorry for ourselves, taking it out on each other, blind to our own faults and shortcomings.”

“Laura.” He took a breath. “Gods…I’m sorry. I should never have said…”

“Yes.” She reached down blindly and picked up the bottle, filling her glass again. “You should have. As I did. We needed to say those things to each other. Because…we needed to.” Taking another swallow, she sighed softly. “Somewhere down deep, did we really mean them?”

“No.” Bill crossed the room and knelt next to her, afraid to reach out and touch her, but needing to be near her. “Gods, Laura…your death will never be…could never be…”

“Did you know…” she let out a bitter giggle, “no. Of course not, you wouldn’t have known.” Taking another swallow, Laura sighed. “I never expected to die old. Other people talk about growing older…what they were going to do when they retired…what they would see, who they would visit. I just…never expected to do that. Somehow, I knew I wouldn’t be…elderly when I died. So, not having anyone to be there with never really bothered me. I didn’t know how I’d die, I knew that the cancer was a chance, because of my mother. I knew fate was a chance, because of my father and my sisters, I just expected it to come.”

“Laura…” As she looked down at him, a sad smile on her lips, he lost his train of thought, the light of the passing stars shimmering through her hair and glowing on her skin.

“I never regretted it, and yet I never lived with the thought that every day could be my last. It was just something I…knew.” Her eyes moved back to the viewport. “I never really thought of my death impacting or affecting anyone. Until this all happened.” She glanced back at him. “Until you happened. And suddenly now there are people relying on me. I have expectations, and I’m not ready. Because now I need to…do more, be more. And I don’t know if I can. Because I’m losing…I’m losing everything that I was, and I’m tired of changing who I am and who I’m becoming. I just wanted to…I just wanted to be a teacher. Not President, not prophet, not the dying leader. And I didn’t have a choice. I want to live. For the first time in I can’t remember how long I want to live, and I’m dying.” She lifted the glass to her lips again. “Irony, thy name is Laura Roslin.”

Bill stared at her in silence for a moment before speaking. “I don’t want anyone else if I don’t have you. It’s not that I don’t want to live alone, I’ve done that for years. It’s just I never had anyone else…that I’ve wanted to be with. No matter what we say or do to each other, we’ll still have each other. For as long as we can. That’s all I want from you Laura, to have each other as long as we can. And if that makes me afraid to be alone, so be it.”

Laura closed her eyes and rested her head back against the frame again. “You don’t want me Bill, you don’t want me in your head, in your thoughts…” in your heart, she finished silently. “I want to fight it this time, I wouldn’t be going through the treatments Cottle’s insisting on otherwise, but…there’s only so much…” Sensing a movement, her eyes flew open and she shied away as he lifted his hand toward her head.

“It’s all right.” Gently he traced her cheek, wiping away the tear she hadn’t even realized was there. “Laura, I want you whenever, wherever I can have you. I want to have memories of you, and I want you to know what it’s like to live as long as you can.”

Blinking, she stared straight ahead, the glass lifting again. “I took one of your bottles of golden ambrosia.”

“I noticed.” He smiled slightly. “Is this your passive way of removing alcohol from our quarters?”

Her eyes flew to his. “Our quarters?”

“I told you. For as long as we have.” Rising up on his knees, he kissed her gently.

“Oh.” Laura blinked. “And, I don’t do passive aggressive. I wanted to drink. To try to forget for a while. To see…”

“If it works?” As she nodded and took another swallow, he sighed. “No, Laura. It doesn’t. You won’t forget. Believe me…I’ve tried.”

“Well, I tried too. And I’m so tired.” With a deep breath she finished what was left in her glass. “And…” her voice drifted to a whisper. “I’m losing my hair.”

“So you can brush mine when you need to think.” He’d noticed that sometimes she’d get lost in thought when brushing her hair and had asked her about it once. She’d smiled and said that the repetitive movements sometimes helped her gather her thoughts, to focus.

Laura glanced at him as she leaned over to place the glass in the briefcase that was lying open next to her. “Interesting offer. How long are you willing to grow it?”

“We’ll talk about it.” He recapped the ambrosia bottle and gently pushed the briefcase a few inches away so he could move closer to her, resting his head in her lap as he stared out at the stars, her fingers automatically moving to stroke through his hair.

“Hmm.” Her lips curved slightly. “Soft. Will you miss mine?”

“I’ll miss watching you brush it out. I’ll miss it falling around us when we make love.” Reaching up, he caught her free hand. “But, it’s a small price to pay for having you. It’s not you, and you’ll be beautiful to me with or without it. And, we’ll get you something…”

“I don’t think you can make finding me a wig a military action, Admiral.” Laura laughed softly, “I can’t even make it a Presidential Decree. I can but hope there’s one somewhere that doesn’t make me look too ridiculous.”

“You could never look anything but lovely.” Bill brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “And of course, Presidential.”

“It is hard,” she mused softly, “to toss one’s hair as one gives the command to airlock a cylon when one doesn’t have hair to toss.”

“It’s all in the attitude, President Roslin.” Sensing that her mood was lightening, he slid up to sit facing her as Laura moved her legs toward the viewport. “I’ve no doubt that you’ll manage just fine.”

“Hmm.” Leaning forward, she kissed him, twisting slightly as he laid back, reclining with her draped over him. “With your assistance, Admiral Adama.”

“And by the way, I was very impressed that you remembered the way here.” Carefully, he brushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear gently. “Someone’s been wandering the ship again.”

“Long walks and all that.” Laura nestled closer to his warmth as he rolled them onto their sides to gaze out the viewport. “And, in all honesty…”

“An honest politician. How refreshing.” Bill grinned, pressing a kiss against her cheek.

“Shut up Adama.” She shifted again, her arm resting on his upper arm. “I did get lucky. Knew only one way here, and I managed to find the right staircase.”

“Lucky that.” Tightening his arm around her waist, he nuzzled her hair.

“Bill?” At the very small voice, he rested his cheek on the top of her head.

“Laura.” His thumb absently stroked her waist as he waited for her to speak.

“I…I don’t want to die.” She whispered. “Frak it all, I don’t want to die. Meaningful or meaningless. I don’t want to…” With a whimper, Laura turned, burying her face into his chest as she cried, clinging to him.

“Shh.” Closing his eyes, he bit back his own unexpected sob. “Laura…we can’t think…we’ve both known…”

“It’s different though.” Laura coughed hoarsely before continuing. “It’s one thing to fight, to be aware that at any moment we could be attacked…there could be a bomb, or a bullet, and completely another to know its going to happen, to see it coming and not be able to physically fight it. All I can do is lie there and let the godsfrakking poison into me, hoping that it will kill another part of me…and do you know how frakked up that is? And the only peace I have is listening to you read to me, and knowing that when I’m gone…you won’t…” She broke off coughing again.

“Laura.” Sitting up to try to help her breathing, he supported her. “Laura, you need to calm down and breathe. In and out…that’s it, breathe with me Laura.” As her coughing fit wound down, he closed his eyes in relief. “Better?”

“Yes.” Hoarse, she let him support her, weakly rubbing his leg with her hand. “Drink…”

“Hold on.” Angling his body, he reached out and caught the handle of her briefcase and pulled it toward them. One handed, he reached in and pulled out the bottle and her glass, deftly putting the glass in one hand and pouring the ambrosia. “Not the best thing, but…”

“Thanks.” Her hands shaking, Laura used both hands to hold onto the glass, relieved when he continued to hold it as well while they tilted it toward her mouth. A moment later, she let her head fall back against his shoulder with a sigh. “I don’t want to die.”

“And this is the last night you’ll ever let yourself say that out loud, isn’t it.” He mused into her ear.

“Probably.” She took another swallow. “This is truth serum, isn’t it. Serum that brings out the truth and deadens reality.”

“No.” Bill chuckled. “Just fleet produced golden ambrosia.”

“So you say.” Abruptly, Laura downed the rest of the drink and turned in his lap, suddenly straddling him. “More.”

“Laura…” He frowned at her.

“One night Bill.” She held out the glass. “I want one frakking night to get drunk before the diloxin takes over. One frakking night to forget I’m dying and leaving the man I finally found behind. One frakking night to be me again, and not the dying leader of the last of the human race.” As he gazed at her, she pushed the glass at him again. “Then no more reprimands, no more reprisals, just us being…us and having what reality is. But tonight I want to be drunk with ambrosia, frakking you under the stars and not caring what and where and who we are.”

Stunned, he absently filled her glass again before bringing the bottle to his mouth. “Laura…”

“Is that all you can say…Bill?” She tossed back the drink. “More.”

“Pace it Laura.” He poured half a glass and tapped the glass with the bottle. “You’ll feel it enough in the morning.” Trust me, he finished silently, his hand supporting her back.

“But,” she swayed toward him, “I’ll feel.” Holding the glass to the side, she caught his mouth, her lips caressing his as she slid closer to him on his lap. “And for tonight, we’re alive.”