Caprican Christmas ch 6

Buttery smells filled the interior of the cabin as Laura peered around the wall separating the kitchen from the living room. Bill had fallen asleep after rearranging the firewood into neatly stacked piles. His soft snores were filling the space and she found it comforting. She placed the bowl of popcorn atop the coffee table and went to retrieve the berries tucked safely in the pockets of her marshmallow jacket. She'd found some string in one of the kitchen drawers and a needle in the secret zipper pouch of her luggage. She arranged herself, legs crossed, on the floor in front of the couch and took the threaded needle to begin making garland. She'd strung several rows and popped more corn before Bill began to rouse from his sleep.

He spied her hunched over the coffee table, her hands busily threading, working at a rapid rate. He reached down and moved her flowing hair aside to achieve a better view. "What do you have there?" She turned, a beaming smile on her face, and held up the strand she was working on for his inspection.

"I haven't seen that stuff since I was a kid. My Tsattie would make it with me every Festival season. What made you think of it?"

"The deer were eating them earlier when we walked through the woods. I remembered how much fun we'd had as kids making them and thought it might be something we could do. Unfortunately, we can't eat these berries. At least I don't think so, I'm not brave enough to try."

Bill reached down and gathered a handful of the berries and popped them in his mouth. A slight grin spread across his face as he looked her directly in the eye. He swallowed and shrugging his shoulders said, "They aren't poisonous. You could eat you want." Just then, his eyes rolled back and he made a choking sound before his head lolled onto the couch. He lay silent and unmoving, his chest not rising and falling.

Laura began to panic. She stood over Bill, shaking him and rubbing his chest to encourage a breath from him. "Bill, Bill please wake up. Breathe, please breathe. Oh, why did you do that?!" She felt a soft rumble through his chest as a laugh made its way up and out. His eyes opened and tears began to form where he was laughing so hard. She swatted his arm in frustration.

"Bill Adama, that is not funny! I thought there was something really wrong with you." She pouted and bent toward the table before her. She took a large amount of popcorn and threw it at him.

"What! The boys ate them all the time as children. I knew they weren't poisonous." He laughed heartily as she continued to pelt him. He plucked the pieces off himself then threw them back at her. She glanced at him with that hard political stare before tossing berries at him, then took off for cover. Popcorn and berries littered the floor as they each ducked for cover. Laura made her way behind the stairs and snuck a look or two trying to find him. Bill was nowhere to be found, and she was getting nervous. She didn't like to lose.

Her hiding location was good, but Bill was all in. He didn't like to lose. He crawled around the back of the couch with the popcorn bowl, refilled from the remnants on the floor, tucked safely under his elbow. Bill tip-toed quietly around the back of the stairs and lay in wait. Laura peeked her head out again to scan the room. Not seeing him, she huffed in irritation and crept back under the stairs, sure she'd be safe from any surprise attack he may be planning. She slipped her hand in the pocket of her pants and produced a handful of berries. She poised her arm, ready to aim at the first sign of her enemy.

Bill counted to ten then took aim. He dumped the contents of his bowl over her head and watched in silence as she reacted. Arms flailing, she turned and threw the berries at him, not paying attention to where they landed. "Bill Adama! That's not fair," she grumped.

"You're just mad you didn't think of it first," he called back to her as he high-tailed it out of there before she could throw anything else at him. He jumped on the couch and ducked down before she could see where he'd gone.

Laura grabbed the bowl and swept the corn into it; determined not to be outdone, she went in search of him yet again. Rounding the corner of the couch, Bill popped up and made a loud growling sound. She tossed the bowl and its contents in the air emitting a loud scream. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down atop him. His back ached and his knees groaned in pain, but he held her close nonetheless. He laughed heartily as she tried putting up a fight. "You're a sore loser, Laura Roslin." He tickled her side and joined her in merry laughter as she howled in retort.

Laura was lying across his chest, her heart beating stronger with every rise and fall. He was more comfortable than she thought he'd be. She'd witnessed the strength he had in his arms and assumed he'd be hard and uninviting, instead she found herself melting into him. She looked in his eyes and felt herself go limp at the pressure his fingers gave as they caressed her back in soothing patterns. She didn't like to lose, he was right, but if this was her prize for doing so, perhaps she'd consider losing more frequently. She blinked at the affection radiating behind his eyes and sensed something more was about to happen. They had an attraction she had not anticipated given their dealings before had been harsh, but as many times as they'd already come close to something this was a little too close for comfort, and she wasn't positive she was ready to take it further. The decision was made for her when Bill leaned up to press his lips against hers. She felt the heat before she felt his lips and her body went rigid.

BOOM! A loud crash came from outside and she pulled back at the last minute.

"What the frak was that!" Bill propped her gently against the back of the couch. Giving her a sad look, he went off toward the back door. Peering out the window he saw a tree had snapped in half and landed on the power lines. They looked as though they'd come down, taking out the electricity in the process. "Frakking blizzard must have started again while you had your little popcorn fight." He knew it had been a big possibility earlier as they'd returned, but he'd felt Laura's hesitation and that compounded with the damage outside, he'd sounded angrier than he'd intended. He felt a small hand on his shoulder, he steeled his face, and turned to look her in the eyes.

"I'm sorry, Bill." The apology filled with double meaning as she ran her hand over his arm. "What will we do with the power out?"

"The stove and refrigerator run on gas so we won't have a problem with that. We may be taking cold showers though." He gave her a pointed look and walked toward the living room. She arched her brow at his words and followed along. He was picking up all the bits and pieces of scattered ammo. The living room was covered in it and Laura couldn't stop herself from laughing. "Guess we got carried away huh?"

She cleaned up the mess behind the stairs and dropped her offerings into the bowl Bill held out to her. He disappeared into the kitchen and she threw herself onto the couch. Feeling a melancholy having clouded over their jolly game from earlier, she tucked her feet underneath her legs and held a pillow tightly to her chest hoping to chase the doldrums away.

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The night passed in a blur. The awkwardness between them as thick as cold butter. Cutting it would require a miracle of epic proportions. Laura readied herself for bed and whispered a soft goodnight. She took a candlestick and lit the stairs before her. She turned to eye Bill and let out a deep sigh before ascending to the bedroom where she planned to read her sadness away.

Bill's eyes followed her up the stairs and watched long after the candle light faded into a dimness he strained to see. He went about his nightly routine, shaving his face smooth, and making his bed on the couch. He took the pillow and punched it several times feeling a restlessness that only a few rounds in the ring would help to alleviate. The sound of Laura's tossing and turning met his ears and he got a quiet satisfaction knowing she was just as uncomfortable as he was. The crackling of the fire dying down lulled him into a slumber filled with turmoil.

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When Bill woke in the morning it was to find himself still tired. He'd had a long night of fighting the Cylons. They'd been defending the end of the human race and it had all felt too real. He ran his fingers down the length of his chest, sure the angry red scar had left its mark on him. He drug himself to the bathroom then headed toward the kitchen to figure out a way to brew some coffee without electricity.

The slamming of cabinet doors echoed in her ears, and Laura rolled over to cover her head with the plush pillows. She'd slept terribly the night before. She found she missed the deep timbre of Bill's voice and the words on the pages hadn't been as appealing without it. Her dreams had woken her several times in the night, gasping for air clutching her breast fearing the cancer was eating her alive once again. It had all been too real, the faces of a blonde woman and shady looking man stealing a child and racing through an opera house to catch them. Her eyes had watered knowing she couldn't reach them no matter how hard she'd tried. Her aide, Billy, young handsome Billy, lying on a slab, his life cut short. Her hands trembled as she reached out to fix his hair in a loving last gesture. That nightmare had been the worst and she found herself wanting to call him, reach out and see that he was in fact well. She knew it was senseless as the phone lines were down, but she needed so desperately to hear his innocent voice.

She wiped the tear that had escaped her eyes and rolled over before swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her nightgown was soaked with sweat from a night of harrowing nightmares so she slipped it over her head and hung it on one of the bed posts. Gathering her new favorite robe, Bill's robe, an ache shot through her when she remembered how forlorn he had looked the night before. She mentally kicked herself for allowing things to progress to the point they had. She felt like the life she lived in her dreams had been real, one in which she loved Bill completely in an aching fashion. It was as though this life was playing out the same way and she wasn't ready. It wasn't something she could give in to. Sure she'd met him a couple years before, but what did she know of this man.

His blue eyes so alluring and his touch reassuring, she was lost in him and none of the other details mattered if she admitted it to herself. Knowing him could come later, but after Richard she'd sworn she'd never be that way again. She was scared and stuck in her head, but she couldn't leave the cabin. They were blocked in, she could see it from the window, the snow piles had risen significantly. She shook her head, telling herself this was all premature and she was reading things into signs that weren't there. The smell of coffee wafted up the stairs. She decided the morning needed to start sometime and now was as good as any.

Bill heard the creak of the bathroom door and placed the bowls of oatmeal on the table in preparation for Laura's arrival. He wasn't ready to see her quite yet, so he turned to finish the coffee. He'd found a French press hidden in the back of the cabinet still in its unopened box. He'd laughed remembering Ellen and Saul had given it to him as a joke since they would never be caught making their own coffee by hand. He finished pouring the coffee into mugs as he heard her pull a chair out to sit down. He placed the mugs before her and poured the milk into his mug before passing it off to her.

They sat in silence eating their fruit and sipping their coffee. Laura shot Bill covert glances, trying to gauge his mood and shying away each time he caught her eye. His face was etched with emotion and she felt as though she would break if she allowed herself more than a few seconds of staring into his blazing blue eyes. She found herself troubled each time she thought of the callous man she'd met aboard Galactica the day of the decommissioning, and the difference in personalities the man before her had. They lingered over breakfast, neither willing to bring up the events from the day before. Laura knew she'd hurt his feelings, and Bill knew he was acting like a teenager sick with love, yet the silence remained.

Bill left the dishes in the sink and retreated to the bathroom to partake in a cold shower, while Laura heated water on the stove. She figured since he had made breakfast, and really all the meals they'd eaten thus far, the least she could do was wash the dishes. She was drying them and placing them gently in the cabinet when she heard Bill emerge from the bathroom. He took a book from his little library and stretched out on the couch. Since they would be cooped up for an indeterminate amount of time, he figured he would catch up on his reading since the conversation was lacking. From the corner of her eye, she saw him deep in the story of a treasured book and chose to borrow one for herself as well. She perched herself on the window seat to enjoy the few sun rays peeking over the snow outside.

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Closing the cover on "The French Lieutenant's Wife", Laura laid it down beside her. She had been captivated from the first paragraph and had found herself unable to stop reading until it was complete. The day had passed in relative silence, save the flipping of pages and the occasional clearing of throats. Lunch had been eaten at leisure and dinner had consisted of Tauron noodles. The slurping had been kept to a minimum and stares had been avoided. Laura felt a shiver run up her legs and spread across her midsection. She was beginning to wear down and felt the cold overtaking her, she needed to sleep. They had used little wood in order to preserve it for later in case they were stuck inside longer than anticipated. The sounds of the wind howling and whipping around the house reminded her why they'd chosen that route. She lifted her candlestick to the window and peered out. The snow had blown so high that she couldn't see from where she stood. Instead her reflection stared back as a sheet of pure white pressed against the pane.

She cleaned up and exited the bathroom. Bill wasn't in sight and she assumed he was in the kitchen making tea or something to drink before bed. Wearily, she climbed the stairs and stopped in her tracks at the top when she saw Bill before her. He was standing by the bed, his hand wrapped around her nightgown rolling the fabric between his fingers. His eyes were closed and a heavy sigh was released before Laura gave a cough indicating her presence. Bill jerked ramrod straight and allowed the garment to drop from his hand. He turned to look her in the eye, giving an almost angry stare. Placing his hand over the sheet he'd come to retrieve from the cabinet, he balled it up and stomped off not daring to stay a moment longer, his embarrassment causing him to feel anger instead.

Laura leaned over the banister watching him throw the blankets around for a second night in a row and curse repeatedly under his breath. At least she wasn't the only miserable one in the house.

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Hours passed and Bill still stewed from his miserably uncomfortable makeshift bed. He wanted to sleep but his mind wouldn't shut off and he didn't want to repeat the nightmares of the night before. He heard a small creak from the bottom step and held his breath as Laura walked back. Her silhouette flashed in the dying glow of the embers. She quietly made her way to the bathroom trying her hardest not to wake him. Once the door closed, he let out his breath and tried to stay still not wanting to alert her of his current wakeful state.

"Frak, dammit, frak!" Laura's voiced echoed in a loud whisper. Bill bolted upright and reached out for her. She was bent over at the waist with one hand leaning on the table and holding her left foot in the other. He guided her to the couch and took her foot in his hand.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to wake you. I was trying to be discreet but I couldn't see, the fire has died down so much. Thank you." She hummed as Bill massaged her injured foot, his touch becoming softer and more intimate with each stroke. She pulled her foot back and looked toward him in the dimness.

"Bill your hands are freezing cold," she touched his arm tracing goosebumps up and down it. "Since you want to conserve the wood, why don't you come up to the bed. It's huge and there's plenty of room for us both." She stood and tugged on his hand to follow.

"Laura, I don't think that's a good idea. I like to be able to move around when I sleep, and I don't want to chance hitting you or rolling on top of you." He blushed, thankful she couldn't see his face in the darkness.

"Well since there's no room here on the couch to move around I would assume it's not been very comfortable for you. If you'd like I can stay down here, but I think you need to sleep in the bed."

"No, let's go, I don't want to argue. You're right I'm cold and I'm tired." He stood and took her hand in his not wanting her to bump into anything. Laura followed behind favoring her uninjured foot. She moved closer and tucked herself into the crook of his arm feeling an instant warmth run through her body. Once they made it to the bed, she crawled in first and nuzzled against the wall, propping herself up on a few pillows.

Bill took one large pillow and bunched it up into a ball, sliding it under his head. He rolled away from her and tried to steady his breathing. Laura mulled over several things in her mind, trying to choose the right thing to say. "Do you think perhaps, you could tell me a story or something? I haven't been able to fall asleep yet," she whispered shyly.

Bill rolled over on his back and turned his head in her direction. "What kind of story?"

"Anything. Something that happened on your ship, or maybe when you were a Viper pilot. A story of your boys would be nice, or maybe one from when you were a little boy," she sounded hopeful and pensive unsure whether he would comply.

"Okay, well I could tell you about the time Saul and I got caught making a distillery on the Valkyrie." A slight air of laughter laced his deep voice and Laura found herself responding.

She scooted closer to him placing her head on his chest and running her hand over the muscles she could feel through his tanks. She listened to his strong heartbeat and relaxed as he ran his hand through her hair. She smiled at him through the darkness. "I missed you Bill."

He placed a small kiss into her hairline and began his story.