She showed me that cell that had been her sole home for so many years. I saw dank stone walls, a metal cot, no hope. She saw the many roads she would take in the grout lines, a study ship that she'd sailed in the bed, and all her hopes coming alive when the cell's door opened.
Lee looked over at Laura nervously as he drove across the bridge to Marin. She could sense his questions and worries.
"Thank you for giving me this ride, Lee," she said.
"Dad told me to take you where you wanted to go, but I think he meant the store or something."
She stifled a smile. "He would know I'll be safe at my old order."
Lee started to say something and closed his mouth.
"Even that John Cavil wouldn't dare follow me there," she said firmly.
"I wouldn't say that, Laura. He seems pretty single-minded."
"Yes, he's ruthless," she said, focusing on Lee's handsome profile for a moment. "But the convent is a special place. And secure."
"What's that about anyway? It's not the Dark Ages anymore, with rampaging Goths looking for women to ravage," he said.
She shook her head and winced at the flash of pain. "It's not that simple, Lee."
"I guess nothing is," he said unhappily.
Her mouth made a thin line. "No, it's not."
"I think you're right though. Cavil wants Baltar, not you."
Laura's eyes shifted and she turned her head so Lee couldn't see her expression.
"This exit?" Lee asked.
"Yes, thank you," she murmured.
Laura directed Lee to stop outside the order's closed outer gates. She might as well use his assumptions to her advantage.
"You'll need to leave me here," she said demurely.
"Okay," he said uncertainly. "Are you sure—"
"I'll be fine," she said briskly, lifting her overnight bag from the car's floorboards and opening the door.
"Thank you again," she said, giving him a vague smile.
"Goodbye," he said, sounding worried still as she closed the passenger door.
She slipped through the door in the convent's high walls, closing it firmly behind her to block his view.
When she walked up the drive to the main building, another car was waiting. Tom Zarek opened the rear door and exited the armored town car.
"Good to see you, Laura," Tom said, smiling warmly.
She could only give him a tight smile back.
The other back door of the car opened and Gauis Baltar eased out.
"Doctor Baltar," Laura said, noticing peevishly that he didn't seem any worse for wear from the explosion.
Elosha hurried down the stoop of the building. "You're here," she said brightly, watching everyone carefully.
Laura moved into her friend's open arms, accepting the hug gratefully. "Yes, Elosha, I've come back."
"And brought friends," Elosha said, still keeping an eye on the others.
"Only one will be staying," Laura said firmly, nodding at Zarek.
"I don't know if I should leave you two here alone," Tom said.
"We're not alone," Laura replied. She joined her old friend on the building stoop. Elosha put her arm around Laura's waist and nodded reassuringly.
"Come along, Baltar," Laura called to the doctor, re-adjusting the strap of her overnight bag. He's been staring up at the order's bell tower, which had begun to toll with the late hour.
"Yes, yes," he garbled, rushing after her.
With a shrug, Tom Zarek got back into his car, the smoked windows obscuring him from view.
Bill writhed in his chair. He, Helena Cain and Sharon were seated around a table in Cain's hotel suite. The scattered remains of their dinner were in the middle of the table and they all had his novel's draft on their electronic devices. Bill had his old thick laptop, while the women had tablets, which reminded him of Laura. He couldn't keep the prick of concern from the back of his mind.
"I don't see why we couldn't do this in correspondence," he griped.
Helena glanced up from her tablet and fixed him with her dark gaze. "Because you refuse to be online and we need this done as quickly as possible."
Bill glowered back at her.
Sharon tried to make peace. "Bill, please. We're here because Helena thinks the manuscript is very good—"
He wasn't backing down. "I wouldn't guess that from all the changes you want," he said to the editor.
Helena sipped her water before replying. "It's good," she said flatly. "The best thing you've written in a long time. If we push, it can be a limited Christmas release; catch some of those buyers." She glanced at her cellphone. "But we're already months behind for the publicity."
Rolling the tension from his neck, Bill tried to focus on the task at hand. "Let's just get this done."
"You have somewhere more important to be?" Helena drawled.
"As a matter of fact," Bill growled, but Sharon lay a hand on his arm, imploring. He leaned back in his chair and pasted on a smile.
His phone rang.
Helena gave an exasperated grunt, but he rose to walk across the room.
"Yeah?" he said.
"Dad, it's me."
"What's happened?" Bill asked quickly, shaking his head at Sharon's worried expression.
"I just thought I should let you know—"
"Where's Laura?"
"She had me take her to her old convent."
"Okay," said Bill, laying his hand on his forehead, feeling a headache coming on.
"She said she was going there for some spiritual guidance—"
Bill thought furiously. Her burning Bible was still bright in his mind. "Really."
"But I decided you'd want to know that she wasn't in Oakland anymore," the young man said unhappily.
"Thanks, son." Bill disconnected the call and turned back to the women. "I gotta go," he announced.
Sharon leapt up, holding her large belly. "Bill, dammit—"
Helena remained seated, a smirk on her face.
"I'm sorry, Sharon," he said. "Something are more important than words on paper."
"Like what?" she gasped, exasperated.
He raised his shoulders slightly and closed his laptop. "Like love."
"Oh for fuck's sake!" said Helena, her humor gone. "Surely some woman understands how important this is. It is about money after all," she added rudely.
Sharon nodded vigorously. "Laura wouldn't want you to lose this opportunity."
He had to agree. "She'd kicked my ass. But I gotta do this. I gotta go with my gut."
He shrugged into his leather jacket. "Send me the notes. I'll see about the changes."
"When?" Sharon said through gritted teeth.
"When Laura's safe," he said coldly, all business now.
"What the hell is going on?" Helena said, her interest piqued.
But Bill didn't have time for them. He tucked his laptop under his arm and gave Sharon a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll call you."
As he left the room, Helena gave one more shot. "Watch out for men who say that, Sharon. That's code for they don't give a damn about you."
Sharon flopped back into her chair. "I'm due any day now. He won't get another chance."
Laura led Baltar into the chapel. All of the sisters and nuns were gathered, their heads bowed. The small stone-walled space was lit by candles, leaving the air heavy with incense and beeswax.
"What's going on?" the doctor asked, indignant.
"We're going to put Billy to rest," Laura said. "His soul will be released at dawn tomorrow."
"I thought you were going to give me the tablet," Baltar said peevishly, showing the whites of his eyes as he glared at her.
Elosha, tiny yet indignant, took a step between wan-faced Laura and the angry doctor.
"No, I am not," Laura said evenly. "But I wanted you here to see what should be done with a soul, not your sick plans."
"Who are you to decide?" he protested. "What if his parents—"
"And who are you to decide?" responded Laura, her back stiff.
"It's in God's hands," Elosha said, touching the large wooden cross that hung from her neck.
Laura dipped her head. Truly, she wasn't sure why she was here. She didn't think she believed in God anymore, at least not an omnipotent being as she'd seen him in the past. But she had always found solace in rituals and the unity of spirits. Something had to be done for Billy before the device was destroyed. She just couldn't toss him away. And Baltar, his 'creator', had to be there to see it happen.
The object of her anger was wandering down the center aisle, watching the women praying with great interest, tipping his head as though he were watching some particularly rare birds at a zoo.
"Will he behave until dawn?" Elosha asked.
"He better," Laura said grimly. She gripped her overnight bag tightly. "But as long as I have the device, he'll stay close."
"He doesn't want you to destroy it?"
"No, he has plans for it...For Billy. But he can't have that fine young man's soul. He just can't."
"Father Richard has been asking questions," Elosha said carefully.
"He can't know," Laura said quickly. "He wouldn't understand."
"Praying for the soul of a computer tablet?" Elosha shook her head. "No, I think not."
Laura hunched her shoulders, then relaxed them when she realized it was a body mannerism of Bill's.
Elosha squeezed Laura's arm. "I'll keep him away."
"Thank you," Laura said gratefully.
"Let me get you a cell for the night."
"I don't know if I'll be able to sleep," said Laura.
"Try," urged Elosha. "You've just left the hospital."
But as they walked through the dim foyer to the wing of guest rooms, there was a pounding on the front door. They looked at each other with concern.
Through the frosted glass on the door's window, they made out a man's head and shoulders.
"Father Richard?" asked Laura.
"Too short," said Elosha, reaching for the door.
Before Laura could stop her, the Mother Superior opened the door.
Elosha's face showed relief at the man glowering on the stoop, but Laura just sighed.
Half an hour later, Laura sat on one of the guest cell's narrow bed as Bill paced the small room.
"Dammit, Laura, you shouldn't have come all the way over here—"
"It was something I needed to do," she said, looking at her bag in the corner.
"But it's dangerous—"
"Not here."
"How can you know?" he asked, standing before her with his arms crossed.
"I do. We were always safe here."
"A locked gate won't do much with a man like Cavil."
"Well, you're here now," she said, as though closing the subject.
Agitated, he huffed.
"Have you eaten?" she asked.
"Yeah," he grumbled. "You?"
"Yes, I took Lee to dinner to thank him for the ride," she said primly, looking around the cell, bare but for two beds and a single bureau.
"About that—"
"So he told you?" She narrowed her eyes.
"Yes, because he knew I'd be worried!" Bill sputtered.
She toyed with the rough blanket on the mattress.
He could see there would be no contrition forthcoming from her. "Why did you come here anyway?" he asked. "I thought you weren't—" He couldn't finish the sentence.
"I..." She lowered her gaze. "I still see these women as my spiritual family. I needed to say goodbye to Billy. Before destroying that thing that Baltar made him into."
"Really? You're going to do that?" Bill sank to the other bed, his clasped hands hanging between his knees.
"That's not Billy," she assured him. "It's just a collection of his thoughts, his inner musings written down, meant for no one but him, have been used to create this...Toy. A sick, twisted toy, that can ask questions and make responses, even sound like him. But it's not him, because it will never grow and change and love again."
"I'm sorry," Bill said simply.
Fighting tears, she smiled at him, her lips quavering. "I'm not. I have my chance to say goodbye. And hear his voice say goodbye."
He smiled back. "You should get some rest," he said.
"You too," she said, rising. "How did your meeting with Helena and Sharon go?"
"Fine," he said, dismissing that topic. "Just fine."
She squinted at him again, but he was looking at the narrow bed, measuring it with his hands.
"Am I staying in this room too?" he asked.
"I think Elosha is going with don't ask, don't tell," Laura explained. "There's a bathroom in this wing, so you won't shock a nun in the night."
"Thank god," he said seriously.
"We can put our mattresses together on the floor," she suggested. "Make one roomy bed."
He frowned but helped her to flip the mattresses on the cold floor. She hurried out of her clothes and tugged on a nightgown from her bag.
"They don't believe in heat here?" he said, removing his pants and sweater before slipping under the blankets.
"It's part of the lifestyle," she said stiffly, even as she snuggled up close to his warm bulk.
"I certainly feel more righteous at the moment," he rumbled, tucking her head under his chin and rubbing her chilly back with his wide palm.
Her hand mirrored his motion, traveling down his chest, across his belly, and lower.
He cracked an eye open to peer at her in the dimness. "How's your head?"
She hummed as a reply. Her fingers slipped under the waistband of his boxers.
Shifting his legs, Bill tried to decide if he was going to be noble or not.
"I love you, Bill." Her fingers dancing along his thickening cock and his breath hitched.
"Uh...I love you too," he said cautiously as his hands betrayed his good intentions and scooted her nightgown up so he could cup her warm breast.
She giggled. "Good. I'd feel really stupid if I'd taken so long to come around but you'd moved on."
"Nope, not goin' anywhere," he assured her, rolling on his side. He kissed her breathless, reminding them both how long it had been since they'd been together.
But as she shed her nightgown and gently pushed him over, her intent obvious, he held her back.
"You remember how uptight you were feelin' with Kara downstairs," he asked. "I'm feelin' that right now, Laura."
She nuzzled his neck, nipping at his weathered skin. "While I'm feeling very turned on," she murmured. "Wonder why that is?"
He took a deep breath, trying to stop his body's reaction to her mouth's touch and the writhing of her limbs across his. "I don't wanna know," he admitted.
She laughed, low and throaty, and he was lost. Burying his face in her hair, he filled his palms with her straining breasts, and slid his thigh between her legs, giving her something to grind against.
"If I had to guess," she continued on maddeningly. "It's say I want to integrate my two lives. To cast aside the repressions I had to have while a religious sister, quite literally."
Damn this woman and her ability to think during sex, Bill mused as he could only focus on the how wonderful her breasts felt. When she wiggled out of her panties and straddled him, capturing his cock against his belly, he had a new topic to dwell on. Soft, slippery, hot flesh, riding his hardness.
"I'm all for integration," he gasped, "but what if Elosha..."
"Trust me, she's not going to listen at the door. She knows better."
He wriggled uncomfortably. "See, that's what I don't want to hear."
"What?" Laura mumbled, suckling at his earlobe.
"That Elosha knows what we're doing."
"Oh Bill. She only wants the best for us. For us to be happy," Laura said soothingly.
"It's fine for nuns to think about me having a rewarding life," said Bill, "not thinking about me having a mind-blowing orgasm."
Laura gave that laugh again, the one that went straight to the head of his cock, making it twitch.
"She's engaged in the all night mass for Billy," Laura said reassuringly.
"While we're doing this," Bill said fretfully.
"Our own sort of prayer." Laura reached to guide his length as she slid down it.
He thumped his head on the hard floor. "That really...Isn't...Helping," he groaned.
"You're doin' all right," she drawled, her grin bright in the darkness.
He gave a half-hearted shrug, even as he found her breasts again. He truly did have a one-track mind...
"That's it," she murmured. "Just lie back and think of England."
He chuckled, loosening up. "Oh, I'm thinking of that beach, our weekend..."
She widened the stance of her thighs, taking him as deep as she could. "That was so lovely," she agreed breathlessly. "Hearing the waves...Can you hear the waves again?"
"Yes, my love," he whispered, thrusting up as she slid down, making them both gasp.
She nodded, touching his features lightly, as a blind woman would read a story. He sucked her finger into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the digit.
"My love...Our love..." she murmured. It was easy to meet his gaze now, to fall into the love there as he filled her, the pressure exquisite.
He guided her wet finger down so they could stimulate her clitoris together.
"That feel good?" he asked rhetorically.
Her chuckle was rusty. She tightened her inner muscles around him until he hissed. "That feel good?" she replied, grinning.
"We feel good," he said, his hands stroking her from shoulder to waist, lubricated by the fine sheen on her skin.
"Good," she moaned, finally at a loss for words. Electricity was coursing through her nerves, sending flashes of light before her eyes. Her head was pounding at her injury, but she didn't care.
Supporting herself on shaking arms propped on his heaving chest, she rode out her orgasm. "The waves," she rasped.
Bill gave his last thrusts, pushing for the shore. Despite her assurances, he still bit down on his lower lip to keep quiet.
Collapsing atop him, Laura giggling louder than any cries he made.
"Hush," he gasped.
She only laughed louder and slid off him. He fumbled around for the rumpled blankets, covering their cooling bodies.
"Silly woman," he mumbled.
"Love you," she said, kissing his cheek chastely.
"Yeah, love you too," he said with a groan, having discovered their mattresses at slid apart and his bare bottom lay on the cold tile.
After some grumbling and finding his boxers, he made their bed again.
Laura lay on the narrow mattress and welcomed him back into her embrace when he was finished. His eyes were drifting shut as she nuzzled at his neck and whispered nonsense in his ear.
"What did you say?" he said, suddenly alert.
"Baltar's here," she admitted. In her post-orgasmic euphoria, she'd had a moment of honesty and instantly regretted it as he rose up, furious and wide-awake.
"He's just waiting for the morning too," said Laura. "He wants to be here when Billy goes away."
Bill yanked on his jeans. "That bastard's gonna be in lockup by dawn," he growled.
"I want him here, to see what he's done—" She struggled up, reaching for her clothes as well.
"Where he is, Cavil follows," Bill explained, pulling his sweater over his head.
Laura managed to dress quickly, despite her swimming head.
She padded after Bill as he stormed toward Elosha's office. The older woman looked up as he knocked once, then burst in the room.
"Bill," Elosha said mildly, rising from her chair.
"I need the phone," he said brusquely.
"It's here," she said, motioning to an old-fashioned dial phone on her desk.
But when he lifted the receiver, the line was dead.