Early Saturday morning, Bill is awakened by the baby. Laura is lying with her arm across his chest, her face snuggled against him, and her belly pushed into his side. The little girl is kicking up a storm, enough that she brought him out of a sound sleep. He's amazed that Laura is completely out of it, lightly snoring against him.
The sun is shining through the curtains of the bedroom windows, and he hopes it's a good omen for what they need to do today: Laura's talk with her father, his talk with Jean, then an activity for just him and Laura that he hopes will make her happy and take her mind off the last 24 hours.
A loud sigh is followed by the pressure of Laura's lips on his chest, then a glance at his face through half-open lids. "Good morning," she murmurs.
"Good morning," he replies. "How'd you sleep?"
"Great when the baby was asleep. But she's been kicking for the past two hours, and I've only been able to doze off and on. Suppose I should just get up."
"Are you hungry?"
"As a matter of fact, I am."
"Stay here, try to get some more sleep. I'll make omelets and wake you when I'm done," he says placing a kiss to the top of her head.
"Nope. I'm going to help you because I'm soooo incredibly hungry, I want toast, fruit, and those hashbrowns I like with cheese and bacon, too. Besides, I like watching you cook because you're kinda sexy in the kitchen."
After their large breakfast, they shower, then leave for the Roslin house so Laura can speak with her father at 9 a.m. Sandra greets them at the door, dressed and ready to accompany Bill to Jean's place, who has agreed to meet with them at 9:30.
"Daddy's in his office and said to tell you to go on up," she informs her sister.
"Are you ready, Sandra?" asks Bill.
"I am now," she replies slipping on her jacket.
After they leave, Laura stands at the bottom of the steps staring up toward her father's study. It reminds her of the times when she was a child and got into trouble and was heading upstairs for a lecture from her father. Sometimes her mother would also be waiting in his office. She was always apprehensive walking up those steps knowing they were upset with her about something, but they never yelled or made her feel bad about what she did, instead taking the time to listen to her, encourage her to do better next time, or find a solution to the mess she had gotten herself into. She couldn't have asked for better parents. The only time they ever really yelled at her was when she snuck out for the high school dance her freshman year. That was completely understandable, especially now that she is becoming a parent herself. The thought that her child might do something like that someday gives her heartburn, and she's not sure how her parents ever trusted her again.
This time she doesn't know what to expect. This was her father's dream, something he had wanted to do for years, and the pride he must have felt upon completion of the book and its acceptance for publication must have made it difficult to keep secret. When his big moment came, she melted down with baseless accusations, shredding her best friend apart in front of the entire family, and accusing her father of sleeping with her. How he kept from yelling at her once he returned from Jean's place Friday night is a testament to his self-control.
But this is her morning of reckoning and despite her age, her pregnancy, the fact she's a schoolteacher, a married woman – she's that apprehensive little girl going up the steps to her father's office again waiting for his lecture because she did something bad. Last night was one of the biggest screw ups of her life, probably a tie between that and Richard, and she must gather all her strength and determination to begin the climb up the steps.
Upon reaching the top, she hesitates briefly, taking a few deep breaths before squaring her shoulders and knocking on his door. He immediately opens it, and before she can speak, tears start to form in her eyes. The shame she feels is overwhelming and it begins to pour down her cheeks as her lower lip trembles.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," she squeaks out, her shoulders trembling with her lip, her posture slumping under his gaze.
"I know you are, honey," he replies in a soothing voice, pulling her into a warm embrace and holding her while she cries on his shoulder.
"I ruined everything," she sniffles.
"Shhhh, sweetie, it's okay," he replies as he comforts her. "Let's sit down. I have a copy of my book for you, and I'd like to tell you about it," he says leading her to the sofa in his office.
"Hi, Bill. Hey, Sandra," Jean says when she greets them at her front door. "Come in."
Sandra enters the living room first, carrying a large fruit basket with her while Bill follows behind carrying an expensive bottle of wine.
"Sorry my sister shit all over you," Sandra says holding the basket out to Jean after closing the door. "Please accept our basket of apology fruit."
"You kinda suck at this, Sandra," Bill says shaking his head at the crude apology.
"I don't know what to say. I feel bad," she replies pursing her lips afterwards to refrain from saying something else that might make things worse.
"Sandra, I accept your apology fruit. Thank you. You know what goes good with apology fruit? Apology wine," Jean states, eyeing the bottle Bill is cradling in his arm. "Or are you practicing for when the baby arrives?" she teases.
"No, sorry, this is for you," he replies, handing the bottle to her. "It's a sweet Tauron wine that goes great with spicy food. And it doubles as apology wine."
"Thank you, Bill. Have a seat," she says, gesturing to the sofa while she places the bottle in the wine fridge in her kitchen.
"Nice place," Sandra comments as her eyes take in the townhouse. "Is this new?"
"Yes, they finished it shortly after I graduated. I'm just a ten-minute walk to my firm."
"That must be convenient," Sandra replies, wondering how long they are going to chit-chat.
"Very convenient. I don't have to pay for parking downtown since I'm so close."
"Great!" Sandra exclaims, perhaps a little too enthusiastically judging from the what's-wrong-with-you expression on Bill's face. Her hands start fidgeting in an attempt to keep her mouth shut.
"So," Jean says sitting in a chair opposite the sofa, staring at them, expecting them to speak.
"Thank you for meeting with us," Bill begins. "Sandra and I have some insight as to why Laura said those things to you last night, and we would like to take this opportunity to explain."
"Welp, it's all my fault!" Sandra exclaims, slapping her hands to her thighs, then standing and pacing. "I should have just kept my mouth shut. Or I should have lied and said he was seeing JJ, or that woman you said he met for coffee, or anyone else. It just happened so fast at dinner, and Laurie knows me really well and could see I was putting things together, and then when Bill helped me escape from the loft and run home, it just made things worse."
Bill rolls his eyes while Jean watches Sandra ramble with a very confused look on her face.
"Sandra, please be quiet. Take a seat," Bill orders. "Jean, let me explain."
"When you started working on your dissertation again, you inspired me to start writing this series. You had told me that you felt students needed to learn classical literature again, that modern literature was too sanitized and the lessons from the classics were lost. I began thinking of that in terms of how we have been teaching history for the past ten or so years, and I realized the same thing had happened within my own discipline. It's time to tell the real stories again. That is what I have written, starting with Kobol. I hope that people find it more interesting than what they are teaching in schools now. Maybe a few will decide to become history majors. I'll teach a short course next semester using my book and, depending on how that goes, it may be expanded into a full course in the fall semester."
Laura listens to her father's words, her heart swelling with his explanation of how she inspired him. "Daddy, I'm so proud of you."
"Thank you, Laurie," he says with a smile.
"And…well…never mind," she stammers.
"What is it?"
"I was just thinking that momma would be proud, too."
"She would. I've been thinking of her a lot recently."
"Yeah, me, too," Laura yawns, then quickly covers her mouth. "Sorry, you're not boring me. The baby woke me up early and I didn't get as much sleep as I wanted. I could use a nap."
"You're welcome to nap here on the sofa or use my bedroom until Bill and Sandra get back. I have some work to get caught up on anyway and Cheryl's holed up in her room building a model with Persephone. It's pretty quiet."
"You don't mind?"
"Take it from me – you will need to get your rest when you can. Not just now, but after the baby is born, too. You'll be surprised how long you'll go without sleeping all the way through the night."
Jean sits with her mouth open staring at Bill and Sandra as they explain how they thought the best course of action was to distract Laura and run away.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but I really thought both of you were smarter than that," Jean says. "Can't imagine that didn't piss her off."
"Oh, yeah, she's been punishing us ever since then," Sandra says with wide eyes.
"But I can see why you might have thought Dave and I were involved. We were secretly seeing each other, but on a professional level. I guess there were the box seats at the pyramid games, but we discussed his contract negotiations with my partners in the firm while we watched the games, so it was work related. And I did kiss his cheek twice and left lipstick. But that wasn't my lipstick on his polo."
"Really?!" Sandra says like she's getting ready to pounce. "You're telling me we have a mystery woman in the mix? Because I'm sure it wasn't JJ, either. Not her color."
"Sandra, stop. It's none of your business. For all we know it was his coffee date," Bill states.
"Yeah, but who was she?"
"Doesn't matter. He said he wasn't going out with her again. And, no, I don't know who it was," Bill says, trying to end the subject. "I'm hoping that you may be willing to speak with Laura soon. She wants to apologize," he tells Jean.
"Please give me the weekend. I'm still decompressing over this whole thing. Maybe after a few more spin classes I'll feel better. Bill, I'll give you a call when I'm ready."
"Shhh, you're going to wake her," whispers Cheryl as she's crouched down next to her father's bed where Laura is sleeping.
"I can't see because your fat head is in the way!" Persephone exclaims in a loud whisper.
"There! Did you see it?" Cheryl asks, pointing at Laura's belly.
"NO! MOVE!"
"Shhhhh! Ouch! You're on my foot!"
"Because I'm trying to see," Persephone replies through gritted teeth. "Whoa! Was that it?"
"Yeah!"
"It's like a big worm in her belly! Look at that!"
"I can hear you," Laura says with her eyes closed. "And it's not a worm, it's a baby." Her eyes pop open to see Cheryl and her friend staring at her. "You must be Persephone."
"Hi," she replies, standing up and extending her hand. "It's nice to meet you Dr. Roslin-Adama."
"It's nice to meet you, too, Persephone," she says, shaking her hand. "And call me Laura. There's no need to be so formal."
"Does it hurt when it moves like that?"
"No, not usually. Sometimes she'll get a strong kick to my ribs and that kind of hurts a little, but not bad," Laura replies, sitting up on the edge of the bed, Cheryl and Persephone joining her on each side of her.
"Can I touch it?" Cheryl asks.
"Sure, right here." Laura guides Cheryl's hand to the spot near where the baby kicked.
"I felt it!" she grins.
"Can I try?" Persephone asks.
Laura replaces Cheryl's hand with her friend's hand, and it isn't long before she feels the kick of the baby.
"She's a girl?"
"We don't know for sure, but Bill has a feeling that's what we're having. Is he back yet?"
"No," Cheryl replies.
"Well, maybe I'll go downstairs and wait for him since the baby is up again. I won't get any sleep with her kicking like this."
"You can watch us play with Fletcher! We taught him how to fetch!" Cheryl exclaims.
"That sounds like fun," Laura replies, doubting that a cat can be taught any tricks, especially an old one like Fletch.
"I think that well," Sandra says happily as she's riding back to the house with Bill.
"It did once you sat down and let me do the talking," he replies, lightly bumping her shoulder with his fist.
"I know, I'm awkward when I'm nervous," she rolls her eyes.
"Just when you're nervous?" he teases.
"Maybe I talk too much."
"Maybe?"
"And maybe I should tone down my language. I don't have a filter."
"I've never noticed," he continues to tease.
"If you don't stop making fun of me, I'm going to tell my sister on you, and then she'll be mad at you for another month," Sandra mockingly threatens him.
"She's not mad anymore. In fact, I'm the one that was mad at her last night, said some things I shouldn't have. But we're better now."
"Oh, so Mr. Perfect isn't so perfect? You have flaws? You make mistakes? You're starting to fit in with our family."
"I'm sure if you were to have an in-depth conversation with your sister, she could point out several of my flaws."
"I'll pass on that. I kind of like the idea that you're almost flawless. Because the truth is, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be sitting here having this conversation right now. And the way you handled Craig when you found out what he did to Cheryl…well, let's just say that I think you're going to be a good father. And if Jean and Laurie start being friends again, you've hit the trifecta. Someday I'm going to find a great guy like you. I don't know when, where, or how, but I'm going to find him."
For the fourth time in a row, Laura throws the catnip stuffed toy mouse across the room toward the foyer, and Fletcher runs to retrieve it, dropping it in her lap when he returns.
"This is crazy! I've never seen a cat fetch before! How did you teach him this?" she asks her littlest sister.
"Treats! That's why he's gotten so fat. But now he does it without treats, so maybe he'll lose some weight."
"Are you a fat boy, Fletcher? Who's the fattest boy?" Laura asks in a silly voice scratching the top of his head.
"Merrh-owww," Fletcher coos.
"Yeah, you are. You're the fattest boy on the entire planet, aren't you?" she asks.
The doorbell rings and Cheryl runs to the door to answer.
"Who are you?" she asks suspiciously when she sees a young man holding a large box in his hands.
"I'm Jeff, I work for your dad. His books were delivered today, and I thought I'd drop them off since he won't be in the office for a while.
Cheryl stands to the side so he can enter, then yells, "DADDDDYYYYY" as loud as she can. Dave appears at the top of the steps, certain something is wrong, but when he sees Jeff, he realizes she was just trying to get his attention.
"Maybe next time you can walk upstairs, knock on my door, and tell me nicely that someone is here rather than give me a heart attack," he scolds.
"Alright," she shrugs.
Jeff places the box on the coffee table near Laura just as Bill and Sandra enter the house.
"What are you doing here?" Sandra asks, not thrilled that Mr. Buttkisser is in her home.
"I brought the first shipment of your dad's books," he replies opening the top of the box. "I didn't think you'd want them sitting in front of your office door during break, so I brought them over," he tells Dave.
"Wait, wait, wait," Sandra says with a hint of a smirk. "Why were you in the office on the first Saturday of winter break?"
"I was waiting for this to be delivered. I didn't want anyone to steal it."
"So you've just been sitting there all morning waiting?" she asks.
"Yes."
"Sounds about right," she replies, biting her lips together to hide her grin. Such a buttkisser, she thinks to herself.
"Jeff, would you like to stay for some lunch? Laurie, Bill?" Dave asks.
"That'd be great!" Jeff exclaims, causing Sandra to glare at her father.
"I have other plans for lunch," Bill says while squeezing Laura's hand. "I'd like to take you out."
After a quick lunch at the 24-hour diner across from their loft, Bill drives Laura to the mall for a surprise. A new baby store opened a few weeks ago and they spend a couple of hours together shopping for a crib, rocking chair, and a changing table. They settle on a simple elegant crib made of light-colored oak and a matching changing table. Laura can't find a rocking chair that she feels is comfortable, so they decide to look somewhere else for that later. The crib and changing table are pre-fabricated, so they load the boxes into the trunk of the car and head home where they intend to spend the rest of the day assembling the items.
Laura goes to the bedroom to change while Bill carries in the boxes and opens them in the guest bedroom, sorting out the contents and determining which tools he will need. Just as he's about to go to the utility room to get his tools, Laura enters the room with his toolbox, wearing some denim maternity overalls with a tiny white t-shirt underneath that barely stretches over her baby bump. Her hair is pulled up into a messy bun and safety glasses adorn her face.
It might be the most adorable thing Bill has ever laid eyes on. She looks very determined to help and she's dressed for the part.
"Where should we start?" she asks, fully expecting him to have everything figured out already.
"First, we need to sort things out according to these steps," he says pointing to the large instruction sheet with diagrams and bullet points. "Then we just work our way through it."
She very seriously studies the instructions and begins sorting out the pieces, finding the appropriate hardware for each step. "Are you going to help me?" she asks.
"Yeah, after I'm done appreciating how frakking cute you look right now."
A warm blush spreads up from her neck, but she turns back to her work. "I'll sort this out while you watch me, then we can both put it together."
Her plan goes smoothly. After organizing everything according to the instructions, they go through each step working together to build their baby's crib. During the process, Laura makes sure to occasionally brush against her husband, accidentally slide her hand across an intimate area, tilt her head to expose her neck, and pretend like she doesn't know what she's doing to him.
After the crib is assembled, Laura takes the instructions for the changing table and sorts through the pieces according to each step. It doesn't go any further than that, Bill finally giving in and pulling her into a deep kiss.
"How about we finish this tomorrow?" he rumbles in a deep sexy tone while she smooths her hands across his chest.
"You have something better to do?" she asks innocently.
"Definitely a lot more fun," he replies, letting his thumbs slip under the bib of her overalls and circle her nipples on the outside of her tiny t-shirt.
Her hand pulls the safety glasses from her face, setting them on his desk. When she leans in to kiss him, he pulls back, stroking her cheek as he stares into her eyes.
"Do me a favor?" he asks, reaching for the glasses. "Leave these on?"
She slowly slides them back onto her face. "You like me in glasses?"
"Kinda gives you a sexy schoolteacher vibe, and I'm liking that."
"And you're the parent of my naughty student?" She bites her lower lip expecting him to agree to her offer of role-play.
"Nah. I'm your naughty student."