Yes, it's been a while. Sorry about that. I'm trying to make sure that my ducks are all in a row. They're unruly little creatures, though, so I'm not sure I'm doing such a good job with them. In any event, this chapter ended up far more introspective than I'd intended. I kept thinking 'more action, less thinking' but...

My apologies for that.

Thanks for the encouraging reviews! And Sal, thanks for the pm about the grammar thing. Any time anyone sees something weird, please let me know - it's appreciated. (Not that I don't have a certain fondness for weird, but...)

Disclaimer: nothing's changed in my end of the world. I didn't and I don't, and I won't, either.

Too High a Cost
By: Mariel

-xxxxxxxxxx-

Chapter 23

Prelude

He tightened his arms and she relaxed into his embrace. When she lifted parted lips to meet his, he met them readily.

He was going to be around for a while more, and so would she. The anger, the loss of trust, the uncertainty... somehow, he had to figure out how to live with it and continue on. Holding her like this and exploring her mouth with his tongue wasn't the way to do that, but it wasn't something he wanted to think about just yet...

...Because right now, living with it and continuing on seemed remarkably easy. It was a blessed relief to have his arms wrapped around her, to feel her lips against his. She felt slight and fragile, and fit against him like a treasured memory. Tightening his hold on her, he tore his mouth from hers and buried his face into the softness of her hair. He'd missed her. This was like being made whole after having been cut into pieces and thrown to the winds.

But it had been the woman in his arms who had torn him apart, and she who had shaken and then shattered the foundation of everything he believed in. Where Laura was concerned, his perceptions were faulty and he had to guard against repeating past mistakes. At some point, for whatever reason, she would betray him again. This woman was dangerous, temperamental, and as trustworthy as a shark.

And gods, it felt good to hold her again.

She nestled her forehead against the crook of his neck and spoke words she had said only once before.

"I love you."

The words were sighed against him, and had the sound of something said without thinking.

And he believed them.

But that wouldn't stop her from betraying him when she next felt it necessary.

It was a dichotomy that he didn't understand, and still didn't know how to live with.

She loved him and she acted against him. It made no sense...but he and she were living proof that lots of things about relationships didn't. The need to hold and be held was a very human one, and sense wasn't on its list of requirements - and it certainly wasn't something obliterated by position or regulation or a strong sense of duty. Something in each called to the other in melodies neither of them could ignore.

But the round robin debate going on in his head also reminded him that her actions and their consequences were also impossible to ignore. The decisions she'd made, the steps she'd taken unilaterally without consideration of anything but her own desired ends needed to be questioned and examined. It wasn't, he was beginning to think, merely her position and her need to get the job done that had made her act the way that she had. To understand her choices, he needed to understand her more.

He wasn't sure that was possible.

-xxx-

Laura stood engulfed in his arms and buried her head into the crook of his neck. Her relief that he was responding to her was palpable, singing through her veins in trembling arias that made her shiver with joy.

This was the man who completed her, who protected her and challenged her and made her more than the sum of her parts. If she were the lighthouse, he was the rock upon which she stood. For her to be who she was would be impossible without him.

The thought frightened her.

She also knew he would no more continue to hold her like this than the cylons would cease seeking the destruction of humanity.
Something had changed in him again; he was not the lover he had been before New Caprica, nor was he the remote stone of a man whose eyes had flashed with hatred only weeks ago. It was too early to tell yet who he was now - or to know how deeply his anger still flowed, but she felt a reserve in the way he held her, a reserve, even, in his kiss. That there was emotion there was undisputed, but it was restrained, observant, and careful.

She drew back and looked at him. She wanted to say many things, but before she could, he straightened, and grimaced in pain. Obviously fighting for his next breath, he released his grip on her.

"I think I need to lie down," he said in a tight voice.

Laura's soft expression was immediately replaced by one of concern. "You've been standing too long! Let's get you back into bed. You're supposed to be resting."

She stepped away and drew him toward his bed, then watched with furrowed brows as he slowly settled himself down. Once he stilled, she reached for the intercom button to contact the nurses' station.

"Don't," Bill said as he closed his eyes and raised a hand to his chest. "I'm all right. Our little argument took more out of me than I thought it would, that's all."

She placed a hand on his shoulder and softly trailed a fingertip against the side of his neck.

With her other hand, she tapped the intercom signal.

"We weren't just fighting," she reminded him, "we were making up, too. I want to make sure you're okay, Bill. It's almost time for Cottle's last rounds, anyway. It won't hurt if he gets called here a few minutes early."

She was speaking the words and they were registering with him, but neither her thoughts nor his were focussed on anything even remotely connected to a call to the nurses' station. Things still weren't resolved between them. Uncertain as to what their next steps should be, their eyes glanced off one another.

The uncertainty made her uneasy.

She'd lost control of their relationship; lost control of its direction and lost confidence in her ability to determine its final destination. For the first time, it appeared that it was he who would determine how things between them would go.

Or if they would 'go' at all.

The intercom beeped and a voice asked, "Can I help you?"

Tilting her head towards the wall speaker, Laura said, "The Admiral isn't feeling well. Could you ask the doctor to come and check on him, please?"

She ignored Bill's glare.

Some things she couldn't control.

Some things she could.

-xxx-

Short minutes later, Doctor Cottle bustled in with Meyes close on his heels.

Seeing Roslin standing in position at Adama's bed, he shot a glance at his medic. As Dana Meyes was apt to do when they were discussing things not medical, she had spoken her mind quite bluntly. In no uncertain terms, she'd told him that he was not to say anything to embarrass either Adama or Roslin. "Their lives are difficult enough without your smart-ass comments making things harder," she'd scolded him. "If they are involved and keeping it secret, leave them be. I think it's wonderful. Don't you dare make whatever it is they feel for each other something else they need to worry about."

He thought it was something that was worrying them already, but had refrained from saying so aloud. He also thought she had nerve, thinking she could tell him what not to do.

But, though he'd scowled at her fiercely, her words had made him pause. He hated to admit it, but he didn't like the idea of making Adama uncomfortable. The man had been through enough and could do with a break. If Roslin were what Bill Adama needed or wanted, perhaps Jack Cottle would just have to put up with it, whether he understood the man's choices or not.

Roslin, however, he had figured as a fair target...

Casting a glance her way, he drew up to Adama's bed and asked, "What's up?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," Bill told him curtly. "I got up for a while, and then felt some chest constriction. It kind of burrowed its way down to my stomach, but I'm fine, now."

Biting back a caustic question about what the frak he'd been doing while up, Cottle reached into his pocket. "Let me be the judge of whether you're fine or not," he told him. Taking out his stethoscope, he listened to Bill's heart, tapped on his chest and stomach in a few places, took his pulse, and then had a look into his eyes. Conscious of Roslin's presence, he looked up. Satisfied with what he'd found, he put his stethoscope back into his pocket and told her, "You can stop hovering. It's just like he says; he's fine. And you," he said, turning to Adama, "have to pay attention to what your body is telling you. I'm all for your being up and about, but I'd be happier if you didn't overdo it. How long were you on your feet? You're supposed to be resting, not dancing around your room."

"I wasn't dancing," Bill denied grumpily, "and I wasn't the one who called you. How can I get any rest with people running in and out of here all the time? Leave me alone, and I promise I'll get some sleep. I'll be fine for tomorrow."

"I've no doubt you will be," Cottle said. "But since being disturbed is such a concern, I'll tell my night staff to stay the hell out of here until morning rounds. You need a good, solid night's sleep." Looking at Roslin with knowing eyes, he couldn't resist adding, "Just make sure 'sleep' is all you're doing."

Oblivious to the point the doctor was making, Bill nodded and closed his eyes.

Not oblivious to the point the doctor was making, Laura glared.

Cottle smirked.

Meyes stepped forward.

"Let me help you into bed and take your readings, Madame President," she offered in a soft tone. "Then it's lights out and we'll leave you alone."

With one last glare at Cottle, Laura moved towards her bed. "Thank you, Dana," she said as she crawled in and lifted the covers over her.

While Cottle made notations on his chart, Bill opened his eyes to ask, "What's happening with the shuttle? Has it landed yet? Are you okay for supplies and space?"

"You're not supposed to be worrying about that," the doctor said gruffly, "but as it happens, you don't need to. We set up temporary space for the first shuttle-load of people in the museum bay," he said."I've put Doctor Robert in charge, and it looks as though everything's going smoothly. We're making do with whatever we can scrounge up for bedding, but so far no one's complaining. You can sleep well tonight knowing that's one small problem taken care of."

Adama shook his head. Resting his head back against the pillows, he acknowledged, "It was a big problem, not a little one, Jack. Thank you."

Cottle grunted. The museum bay was in one hell of a state of disarray, and they were using old packing cases stacked up as walls to separate patients where necessary. The heating there was the shits, and it was a pain in the ass to get from Life Support to there and back. It was also woefully understaffed. But it would work because it had to work.

"Hey," he said gruffly, "anytime you need a miracle, I'm your man."

Finishing up with the President, Meyes walked out the open door and turned to wait for the doctor. Cottle followed her, but when he turned to close the door, he couldn't resist poking his head back into the room and firing off a final salvo in Roslin's direction.

Waiting for her to make eye contact with him, he winked.

"I'm sure I can trust you to keep an eye on him."

He began to close the door, then opened it a bit to order in a gruff tone, "But behave yourself."

When the door finally closed after him, Laura let out a frustrated sound. "He's insufferable!" she exclaimed.

Puzzled by the outburst, Bill opened his eyes and looked over at her. "He's a little eccentric."

"He's far more than that; he's infuriating, and far too self-satisfied."

Bill frowned, wondering what Cottle had done to get on Laura's bad side.

"What did he do?" he asked.

Laura hesitated. She had no desire whatsoever to tell him what Cottle had walked in on or any of the things Cottle had said. The reservation in Bill's response to her made her wary of revealing too much, and her crawling into bed with him while he had been unconscious gave away too much about her feelings and put on display a neediness that embarrassed her.

"Nothing," she said. "I just find him rude."

"Rude."

"Yes. And condescending."

"Really."

"Yes!" she said, becoming irritated with Bill's attitude as well.

Tired, Bill allowed his eyes to drop closed once again. "I can't even begin to imagine what he did. You should be used to him by now - you two seemed to get along when you were ill."

That was true, but she still wasn't going to explain why he irritated the crap out of her now.

"That was then and this is now," she said stubbornly.

"Okay," Bill said. Having other priorities - sleep being amongst them - he was willing to wait to satisfy his curiosity on this particular matter

He exhaled slowly, and his whole demeanour seemed to change. His voice rasped somewhere deep in his throat when he finally broke the heavy silence that had fallen between them: "We have to talk, Laura. "

She looked at him. He was lying quietly, his eyes closed. She thought he had never looked more alone.

"I know," she said softly.

Feeling the distance between them, she rose and moved to his bedside. When she was next to him, he seemed to sense her presence and opened his eyes to look up at her.

Something inside her swelled with emotion. They weren't the eyes that had once looked at her with love and warmth and trusting affection. Nor were they the eyes that had looked at her with cold, angry distain. Now, they were more difficult to read, though reserve and caution were evident...

... she hoped she saw shadows of other, warmer emotions.

Taking his hand in hers, she looked down at him and smiled when he tightened his fingers around hers.

They looked at one another wordlessly for a long heart beat.

Something in his eyes shuttered closed. "You're going to get cold standing there. You should get into bed," he said gruffly as he released her hand.

Heart sinking, she glanced back at the other side of the room.

He saw her expression, and lifted his coverlet in silent invitation.

Relief flooded through her.

-xxx-

He wasn't sure what impulse had led him to do it, but as soon as it was done there was no calling the gesture back.

Not that he had any desire to.

After she had slid in next to him, they shifted to get comfortable and settled into silence.

It was Laura who eventually broke it.

"Bill..."

Bill ran a warm palm down her arm. "Not now. When we have our conversation, it can't be like this." His lips softly kissed the top of her head. "We'll talk tomorrow."

She wanted to cry. She felt his warmth against her, felt its reassurance sink into her very bones...and felt a tremor of fear becasue in spite of their present position, nothing was settled, and deep down, she was certain he would feel that there could be no going back, no resuming what they'd had. This moment in his arms was a salute to those times when things had seemed to be right between them. One last look at what they'd shared and had lost. A salute, if you like to when it had seemed that they could love one another and still serve the people and guide the fleet...

...But that was a time that seemed long ago and far away. He had changed, she had made mistakes, and they would have to sort out who and what they were.

And who and what they would be.

"Okay," she agreed. Settling her head on his shoulder, she draped her arm lightly across his torso and closed her eyes.

Bill lay silently. As he finally drifted off into an exhausted sleep he tried to focus on what the future would hold, but could come up with nothing.

It felt right to hold her now, though.

Laura lay awake for a long time, listening as Bill's breathing deepened into sleep. Afraid of the changes they would need to make, she squeezed her eyes shut against her tears.

End
Chapter 23