Last chapter, the opening reunion scene was inspired by a review from JetC-freak, whom I thank profusely! This time, I've got a line or two inspired by Goldilocks...

This is a short chapter, but I think the next one may make up for it. Thanks for staying with the story!

The disclaimer's been proclaimed to death, so let's just move on...

Too High a Cost
By: Mariel

-xxxxxxxxxx-

Chapter 15
Replay

He had accepted that she needed to go down onto the planet; he'd known how important it was to her that she make a difference. Once she had settled there, he'd spent time with her planetside, and quietly eased into the more relaxed relationship that developed while they quietly talked outside her tent during the brief New Caprican summer. Without discussing it, they'd assumed - or he had, at least - that eventually they would ease the restrictions they put upon themselves in regards to secrecy.

And then Baltar, fearing that when Roslin and Adama were together the people naturally regarded them as their leaders, decided the Admiral had no need to visit the planet. "You are the vangard of the skies," he told Adama. "It is in our best interests that you not leave your post. Your being on the planet if an attack should happen would prove disasterous."

The school teacher, he decreed, had no need to travel back into orbit.

Laura had acquiesced without demur. There had been no last visit, no chance to say goodbye - just a message from her confirming her compliance. She noted it was unfortunate and mentioned confidence that things would change and that she would be thinking of him.

In his mind's eye, he saw himself sitting at his desk as he'd read the letter. She'd made her decision, chosen her path. And, as always, had done so unilaterally, without thought for the others involved.

He'd felt himself begin to step away. And had begun to take a serious, close look at their relationship.

There was an odd sense of relief as he felt himself begin to let go…

-xxx-

"Good gods," a gruff voice muttered.

A hand shook her shoulder none too gently. "Madame President."

Groggily, Laura turned her head towards the disturbance. "Yes," she said, trying to orientate to her whereabouts.

"I may have given you two a private room, but this isn't a motel. A little discretion while you're in my Life Station would be appreciated! "

Her wits suddenly returning, Laura sat up, looked down at Bill, and then quickly slid from his bed.

"Doctor Cottle," she said as her feet hit the floor.

"None other," he responded. "And who are you, and what are you doing in the Admiral's bed?"

Saying nothing, Laura moved as quickly as she could to her own.

Cottle watched her silently and noted that though she appeared to have some stiffness, there was a greater ease in her movements than the day before. In a dry tone he observed, "Nice to see you up and moving so well."

Her cheeks nicely pink, she crawled into her bed and pulled the sheet up over her. Having no idea what to say, she kept her mouth firmly shut and glared at him.

Not finished with his scolding, he continued, "This isn't the sort of thing I expect to find when I'm doing rounds!"

"Well, if you didn't come in unannounced at strange hours of the night, you wouldn't have anything to worry about," she snapped.

Cottle refrained from grinning. The woman understood the value of a swift counterattack. Liking her temerity, he relaxed his stance.

But didn't give up his offence. After all, he held the high ground.

"Ma'am, it's morning, and it's my regular time for rounds, and you should be thankful it was me coming in this early and not some orderly or medic with a propensity for gossip! What I just saw sure as hell confirmed a lot of rumours." He paused and looked over at the Admiral's readings. "If what I saw was some back-assed attempt at waking him up, though, you're going to have to try harder."

She glared at him.

"I fell asleep."

"Obviously." He jerked his head towards Adama. "He certainly isn't in any condition to keep you awake!"

She bit her tongue. How dare he? And she did not have to explain herself.

Knowing just what was going through her mind, Cottle gestured with his hands. "Look," he said, "You don't have to explain anything." He paused for a beat, then raised his eyebrows. "You in bed with him is about as frakking self-explanatory as it gets. But," he said, glancing at the door, "if you don't want the press salivating at the door, you'd better keep your sleeping arrangements a little more discreet. They're bad enough without your adding fuel to the fire."

She wasn't sure whether he meant her sleeping arrangements or the press - and was damned if she were going to ask.

When she didn't respond to his goading, he smiled inwardly. It wasn't often you saw the President at a loss for words. Good to know he hadn't lost his touch.

He moved over to her bed and picked up her chart to read the notations left by the nurse the previous evening. "I came in to give you the good news that I'll be ready to discharge you sometime tomorrow. I'm rethinking that now, though."

She lost some of her glare. "Why? I'm not doing as well as you thought?"

"You're doing fine. I'm rethinking that it's good news." His eyes travelled over towards the Admiral. "Something tells me you might not be as eager to leave as I'd supposed."

She opened her mouth to say that of course she wanted to leave, but then closed it because it wasn't true, and if there was anyone in the universe who would enjoy making her suffer the consequences for stubbornly lying, it was Cottle. She settled back onto her pillows. Once out of Life Station, she'd have to explain each and every visit back here, and he knew it. The press would be watching, and she certainly wouldn't be able to stay long. Too, while the fleet drifted in space waiting for its leaders to recover, there was little for her to do in the grand scheme of things and certainly nothing that she hadn't been able to do from her bed here in Life Station. Once she left here, however, that would change. She sighed. Staying here was the best option all around

Reading her like a book, Cottle said, "Don't worry. I'll keep you here as long as I can stand it - just try to keep it decent in here."

The glare she gave him slid off his weathered hide like water.

He turned to leave, then stopped. Turning back to face her again, he rasped, "Look, I know there's stuff gone on between you two that doesn't get discussed by anyone." He grunted. "Probably not even by you two. This coma," he said, glancing at Bill before turning back to look at Laura, "is a bastard to try to figure out. I don't think your presence here is a bad thing, I don't even think the interesting sleeping arrangement is a bad thing. Hell, I'll take anything that brings him back - but be careful, Madame President. I've been fighting off the press since you two arrived. I'm doing the best I can, and you'e got the most private room in the place, but I still can't guarantee your privacy."

Laura nodded, but continued to say nothing.

Cottle remained standing in the doorway. He had one other major area of concern: no matter how this woman was acting, he still didn't think Adama would welcome her presence with unmitigated joy when he awoke. He knew the man, had seen his rage… A coma was a very lonely place, and if there were some weird part of the Admiral's psyche keeping him locked into it, there had to be a very significant reason. His guessed that the significant reason heavily involved Laura Roslin. Wondering if he should voice his opinion, he looked at her, took a deep breath - and abruptly decided against saying anything just yet. Hell, she was as messed up as Adama was. He thought about the emotions that had compelled her to crawl into bed beside Bill and shook his head. It was just plain sad. She didn't need more put on her just at the moment.

They were, he decided, two very frakked up people.

Who just happened to be the leaders of the frakking remains of humanity.

The thought gave him a sudden need for a cigarette. Enhaling loudly, he said, "Just be careful."

Laura Roslin nodded her head regally. "Thank you, Doctor."

"Hey, any time," he grunted. With a final nod, he left.

-xxx-

More times than he could count, he'd forgiven her everything and done what needed to be done to put things right.

But when Laura Roslin chose to obey Baltar's order, when she so easily cast aside what they had so painstakingly built, William Adama sat back and began to wonder. There had been ways around it; ways to have still seen one another, but she had chosen not to consider them...

Then, because disturbing news carries just as fast as good news, he learned about Zarek. He heard the rumours, knew they made political sense... and knew in his soul she was doing what was being said.

His well of forgiveness dried up.

Now her betrayal was personal. There could be no excuse, no explanation far-reaching enough to accommodate what she had done. This time, there could be no smoothing over, no putting things right and moving on.

He felt the accumulated experiences of his entire life coalesce. Under its weight, he paused and realised he had grown weary...Weary of many things, but of late, weary of the betrayals that she called following her duty... tired of the way she subverted the only relationships that mattered to him in the name of a higher purpose.

He was weary of fighting.

Weary of trying and failing.

Weary of getting nowhere.

Humanity would move forward; it always would. And it could certainly do so without him. There were others more able, and others more willing. His son could take care of the fleet. And Laura - along with whoever she felt she needed - would, for better or worse, take care of the people.

Peace beckoned, and he slowly relaxed into its arms...

End
Chapter 15