"The nausea should go away in about an hour," Cottle said as he turned to leave.

Laura nodded and rested her head against the pillow, breathing deeply in an attempt not to throw up. She closed her eyes. Maybe I'll get some sleep out of this. It turned out, she'd be getting something even better.

"Love and Bullets, by Nick Taylo," Bill began, taking a seat in the chair beside Laura's bed. Her eyes fluttered open, but she didn't say anything. She simply smiled and enjoyed the sound of his voice.

After he read through several chapters, she turned to look at him, and was overwhelmed by how adorable what she saw was. He was sitting there, a book in his hands, and Mae in a sling against his chest.

"Aw, aren't you two precious?" She joked.

"We try. How are you doing?"

"Not too great, honestly. Seeing you two helps," she smiled.

"How much do you have to do today?" He asked, placing the book on her bedside table.

"Press conference, Quorum meeting... the usual," she sighed.

"No matter what happens today, just remember, you'll get to come home to this face," Bill said, tilting forward slightly to reveal a sleeping Mae.

"There certainly isn't a more comforting thought than that."


By the time Laura reached their quarters, she was exhausted. She'd been feeling awful all day, and being the president of the twelve colonies wasn't exactly easy to begin with. She was looking forward to kicking off her shoes and having some alone time with her child and her favorite Admiral.

When the hatch door was shut firmly behind her, Laura moved toward the table, where she found a note.

Laura,

Went to pick up Mae from daycare.

Back soon.

-Bill.

She left the note where she'd found it. Sitting down on the couch, she waited. Ten or so minutes later, the hatch door opened, and in stepped Bill, cradling Mae in his arms.

"Someone is very excited to see you," he said, giving Laura a smile. She held out her arms immediately, more than ready to hold her daughter.

"Hi there, how's my girl today? I missed you," she said softly, rocking her daughter back and forth.

She looked very pale, Bill noticed. She also looked very tired.

"Have you eaten at all?" He asked. She shook her head.

"I haven't felt well enough," she admitted.

"Is there anything I can get you?"

She shook her head again and patted the spot beside her on the couch. She just wanted time to sit with him. Time to lean up against him and cuddle their daughter and just... be.

"You need to eat, Laura," he whispered, placing a kiss against her cheek.

"I won't be able to keep anything down."

He nodded in understanding. He wished there was something, anything, he could do. Meanwhile, Mae was babbling away happily in Laura's arms, not a care in the world. It gave Laura a great deal of comfort that Mae was too young to realize her mother was sick. In fact, at just one week old, she didn't have anything to worry about, except when she was being fed, maybe. Laura carefully brought Mae's head closer to her nose and inhaled deeply.

"You smell so wonderful. People really aren't kidding about that newborn baby smell," she said sweetly. Bill chuckled and leaned his head against Laura's.

"I'm going to memorize how good you smell, and what your laugh sounds like, and your beautiful face, and your wispy hair..." She trailed off, planting a gentle kiss against her child's forehead.

"By the time you have all that memorized, she'll grow and it'll change," Bill pointed out. Laura nodded, looking a bit glum.

"What if I don't get to see her grow up?"

"Don't think about that. Not now."

"It's all I think about," she said softly, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"You're going to make it through this. I know you will," he told her, wiping away her tears.

"I wish I could believe that, I really do," she whispered, placing another kiss against Mae's forehead.


It had been a few days. Laura was alone with Mae in their quarters, trying to get her to go down for a nap.

"I need you to go to sleep so I can get some work done," she said, rocking the baby back and forth. She also wanted to get some rest herself, but that seemed highly unlikely.

Mae reached up and grabbed a fistful of Laura's hair in response. As Laura tried to gently pry her hair from her daughter's tiny hand, she noticed something strange.

No. Not now.

She gave the strand a slight tug, and just as she had feared, it fell easily into her hand. She felt tears burning in her eyes. She knew she would lose her hair, but this was too soon. She wasn't ready.

Mae, picking up on her mother's sudden stress, began to whimper softly.

"It's alright, it isn't your fault," Laura said, allowing Mae to grasp her index finger.

"I think I'll take a nap with you."

Laura moved to lie down on the couch, Mae resting comfortably on her chest. She quickly drifted off to sleep, Laura singing to her softly and stroking her head gently.


When Bill finally made it back from the CIC, he found her lying on the couch, Mae sleeping soundly against her, and what appeared to be a piece of hair on the floor.

"Oh Laura," he said softly, picking up the strand and examining it. He looked up when he heard her sniffle, and was met with a pair of tear-filled green eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, her voice hollow.

"Alright," he replied, kissing her on the forehead.