Okay, I think this is kinda 'M' in a couple of spots, though I'm not sure. Anyway, it's all shoved at the beginning... Lots of switches in pov. I tried it a few different ways, and I'm not even sure this is the better of them, but...It's finally reasonably finished, so here 'tis.

Many thanks for the reviews - they let me know people are reading, and that keeps me plugging away at this.

Disclaimer: I dis all claims. Honest.

Too High a Cost
By: Mariel

Chapter 24

Repair

They'd slipped out of sleep gradually, the steady increase in sound outside in the corridor heralding the end of ship's night and the beginning of another day. Both knew the other was awake. Both remained silent in an unspoken desire to hold on to this last comfortable moment by pretending that nothing existed beyond what they were experiencing at that precise moment in time.

Warmth... connection... peace.

It was a familiar attempt.

From the very beginning of their affair, they had lain together and tried to hold reality at bay for just a while longer. Now, however, it was an attempt tainted by the knowledge that it was not just outside pressures they had to contend with. Now, everything between them was changed as well. The foundation upon which they had built their connection had crumbled. Circling in the air around them and challenging the warm cocoon of their sleepy embrace was the uncertainty of what their next step would be and of where they would find themselves once it was taken.

Reluctantly, Laura began to debate the hour, wondering how long it would be before Cottle arrived to disrupt and disgruntle. When Bill moved slightly, however, she ran a gentle hand across his chest and pushed thoughts of the irritating CMO away. She wished the bandages beneath the undershirts gone. She had lost this man in many ways over the past months, but the bandages were a reminder of how close she had come to losing him completely. Impulsively, she shifted her head and kissed him where his jaw met his ear.

-xxx-

Bill felt the quick, soft caress of her lips and kept his eyes firmly closed. Pulling her close and kissing her in return would have been the most natural thing in the world to do. He could picture in his mind's eye shifting so that he leaned over her, his leg casually resting on hers, his growing erection pressing against her thigh. He could picture himself slowly capturing her lips with his; could imagine the smooth silkiness of her skin as his hands slid beneath her gown, travelling up her hip and waist to gently cup a soft breast. He could picture her body moving in a warm response to his caress...He knew where she liked to be touched, knew how to-

He inhaled deeply. Clenching his hands, he stopped the progression of his thoughts.

Now was no time to be acting on physical impulse. He needed time - time to think coherently and time to consider both the past and the future. He also needed space. The physical aspect of their relationship wasn't a problem - it was everything else that was, and trying to think clearly about any of it with her wrapped up against him was next to impossible. He exhaled slowly. Inviting her into his bed - no matter how much they had both wanted the comfort - had been yet another mistake in a long litany of them.

He did not, however, move. His anger, for now, had abated to a dull throb, and was overshadowed in part by an increasingly pervasive sense of sadness and loss.

"Good morning," he said gruffly. Clearing his throat, he shifted slightly, allowing more circulation to flow through the arm she lay upon.

-xxx-

Laura recognised the rolling shoulder movement. In earlier times, she would have helped by grinning and then crawling on top of him to lie draped over his body like a lazy seal relaxing on a warm rock.

Her fingers clenched on the top of his chest at the memory. She'd loved doing that. Loved the pressure of her body on his, loved his warmth seeping into her... loved the sensual feeling of his naked body moving against hers, and the feeling of power she flushed through her he responded to her... She'd loved his hands travelling across her skin, softly caressing at first, and then growing more demanding as their passion awakened and took flight...

She'd loved it when he rolled her over so that he lay on top of her, his weight pressing her into the mattress, his knee between her thighs.

Even more, she'd loved the look on his face as he gazed down at her, wanting her, needing her, and demanding that she respond to him in kind.

And she always had. Arms welcoming, legs spread, she'd pull him down against herself, tilt her hips and reach to guide him into her, sighing as he burrowed into her with his heat and promise.

She'd always thought she could feel herself grow in his arms. Every cell, every pore in her body, seemed to open itself up to him, exposing and expanding nerves that vibrated beneath his touch as he pleased her...

She lay next to him, her memories holding her motionless. Once they'd discovered their mutual attraction, they'd made the next sensible, adult move. She wasn't certain when it had turned into something more, wasn't certain when it had gone from 'I'm attracted to you, so let's do this' sex to 'I need you and don't want to do without you' sex, but it had. Lying in his bunk, the play of light and shadow dancing across their skin, she had wanted nothing more than to share her existence with him. It had felt right. It had felt good.

It had been more intense than anything she'd ever experienced.

He moved her. Filled her. Made her complete... He'd taken away her hesitations, her reservations, torn down her barriers and helped her build something new...

He had been hers and she'd revelled in that knowledge.

And she, gods help her, had been his.

Had been, was now, and probably always would be. There was little doubt of that now, though she'd been too slow to realise the fact and it was now too late...Because he didn't know. And with all that had passed between them wouldn't believe her if she told him.

Voices outside disturbed her thoughts and a trill of anxiety coursed through her. Someone, be it Cottle or Meyes, would arrive soon.

As though thinking the same thought, Bill murmured, "Cottle will be here soon."

When they'd been lovers, they had kept their relationship carefully clandestine. Now it was second nature.

"You want the shower first?" he asked, knowing the answer.

Taking her lead from his tone, Laura slid from the bed carefully. "Yes, thank you," she said.

Shivering slightly from the loss of his body heat, she stood and turned to look at him. Strange how she could feel so distant from him after sharing so intimate a position. Strange how they could share a bed and remain so apart. She didn't understand the impulse that had led him to invite her next to him, didn't understand the need that had led her to so readily join him. She looked at him, her eyes filled with question.

She didn't know what to say.

He returned her gaze with a serious, unfathomable gaze of his own.

Sudden realisation hit her. Neither did he.

She wondered if they were so far apart that they wouldn't have understood one another even if they had...

The sound of something being dropped in the corridor made Laura reach for her robe. "I won't be long," she promised.

Feeling oddly deflated, Bill nodded.

-xxx-

Cottle rapped on the door. After a count of three, he entered.

"Good morning, Admiral," he said in a breezy tone. "I trust you slept well."

Adama admitted that he had.

Noting that Roslin was nowhere in sight and that he could hear the shower running, Cottle made small talk as he examined his patient. Eventually, he asked in a careful tone, "And how's the President?"

"She seems fine."

Cottle raised an eyebrow at the cryptic response. He'd noticed a long, stray hair on Adama's pillow when he'd been listening to the Admiral's heartbeat. Now, he saw another on the mattress beside his arm.

The woman shed like a frakking Canceron sheep dog.

Resisting the urge to repeat the performance he had enacted with Roslin, he let the hairs lie where they were and asked, "You two been awake long?"

"No. She got into the shower just before you arrived."

Only the sound of his pencil scraping against the paper on Adama's chart marred the strangled silence that ensued as the doctor took a moment to bite his tongue and congratulate himself on his self-restraint. Meyes was going to love this.

Bill broke the silence with an abrupt question.

"If the President is doing so well, why is she still in Life Station?"

Cottle was momentarily thrown by the enquiry. Debating how to answer, he finally settled with: "Guess there are a bunch of reasons for that. At the time the decision was made to discharge her or not, she and I both felt it better to wait. She couldn't - and still can't - go back to Colonial One. It's been flying with a skeleton crew for a while now, and it's the last place I'd want her to go because it was so hard hit with the infection." He paused, then continued honestly, "I also wanted to keep a close eye on her. She has the civilian fleet to take care of and the Quorum to keep in check, and that's a lot to ask of someone recovering from a couple of gunshot wounds that should have killed her. I figured her doing whatever it is she does from here gave her a sheltered area to work from and I could step in if I thought she was over-exerting herself."

Relieved by Cottle's answer, a glimmer of humour flickered in Adama's eyes. "I never saw you as a mother hen," he murmured.

The doctor grunted. "Yeah, well now it's only you and my hairdresser who know for sure. Let's keep it that way, shall we?" A part of him wondered if he should mention his suspicion that Roslin's primary reason for not wanting to leave had been because she'd wanted to keep an eye on a certain Admiral.

The shower stopped and both men glanced involuntarily at the door to the head.

"She'll be out soon," Cottle said.

Still preoccupied by the relief that there weren't underlying reasons for Laura's continued presence, Bill nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "She never takes-" He stopped abruptly.

Cottle quickly looked away and dropped his pencil. Coughing slightly, he bent over. When he straightened from picking it up, his face held nothing more than its usual look of slight disgruntlement. Knowing this was as good a time as any, he said, "You two have stopped looking daggers at each other. I take it you've managed to come to some kind of terms?"

He was likely the first person to dare bring up the subject, and he could feel his heart beating a little faster than usual. He could also feel his muscles tightening in expectation of a cold reprimand. Still, he held Bill's eyes steadily, to let him know he expected a serious answer.

Silence sat between the two men as Adama considered his answer. Finally he reluctantly admitted, "We're not there yet, but it'll happen."

Relieved by the unexpected restraint in the Admiral's response, Cottle nodded. "That's good to hear," he said in a gruff tone. "To be honest, I thought you'd be asking me to throw her out as soon as you gained consciousness and realised that she was here." Going out on a limb, he added, "I'm finding myself kind of glad you didn't, though."

"Oh?"

The doctor knew it was an invitation to clarify himself and fleetingly wondered if maybe this was the time to stop sticking his nose into something not his business. He sighed. Too late to turn over a new leaf now.

But not too late to attempt diplomacy. Old dogs could learn new tricks...

"I've noticed," he admitted, "that things run a lot smoother when the military and civilian leaders get along." When he saw the look on Adama's face, he hastened to add, "Not that I think you need to be in each other's pockets. And maybe not a lot of people noticed you couldn't stand being in the same room with her. Now, with the infection and everything, people are probably too busy to care... and even if you aren't getting along, I'm sure you're capable of getting the job done, it just that..."

His voice drifted off when Adama's expression continued to tighten. He clamped down on his tongue. Damn Meyes and her stupid yammering about being happy for them, and it being good for everyone if their two leaders were happy...

He hated not being firmly convinced one way or the other about what he thought of a relationship between the two... He didn't like Roslin all that much, but like any man would, he liked the idea of the Admiral 'getting some' - and he knew that Bill liked being in a relationship - his long-standing marriage to Anne had been testimony to that. Roslin, he thought, was no Anne, but as he'd thought before, she was a challenge - a beautiful one that Bill would likely fall all over himself chasing. And they'd certainly shown that they worked well together. Both had grown a lot since the Fates had thrown them into the positions they now held. That they had also grown close made sense, and could even be a good thing, all things considered.

He grimaced. He was turning into a damned frakking romantic.

Cottle watched as Bill turned his eyes towards the door to the head. His expression unreadable, he said, "If I'd been thinking clearly, I would have asked to be moved. It's too late now, though.".

The doctor cocked his head to one side. He was tempted to ask what Adama meant by that, but then thought better of it. The two or three hairs he'd spotted on the Admiral's bed might be evidence to the contrary, but things obviously weren't all smooth sailing between the two just yet.

Then he frowned at Bill's use of 'thinking clearly'.

"How have you been in that regard?" he asked. "Do you remember what happened on the planet now? Are all your memories back?"

Adama shook his head. "I'm still having little flashbacks, but not as many as I was."

Cottle shrugged. "That's often the way with trauma like this. Don't worry about it. You may never get everything back."

"There are some things I wouldn't have minded forgetting," Bill said, eying the door.

The glance toward the door had been unconscious on Bill's part, but Cottle couldn't resist responding to it. "Roslin's not an easy woman to forget," he said gruffly, "but she's not all bad; just a challenge, maybe."

-xxx-

Adama looked at the doctor sharply. Jack was starting to tread in very personal waters, and he wasn't sure this was the time for his back-handed version of personal advice. He opened his mouth to issue a warning when the door to the washroom opened.

Roslin stepped into the room wrapped in her robe. Her hair still damp, she looked around. "Tory hasn't arrived with my suit yet?" she asked.

"Good morning, Madame President," Cottle said in a dry tone.

Bill smiled inwardly when Laura merely flicked the doctor a nod of acknowledgment. Laura was in preparation mode. Social niceties weren't high on her list when she was physically and mentally getting ready for something important. During the shower, she would have been mentally shifting gears, her thoughts slowly turning to the day's upcoming events and what would be required of her.

"No, Laura," he told her patiently, "she hasn't. You told her to arrive sometime around 0700. She's got another twenty minutes."

Laura looked up at the wall time piece. He was right. "Then you should hop in now," she told him, "Your uniform is coming at the same time, isn't it?"

He nodded and slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed.

-xxx-

From the foot of the Admiral's bed, Cottle watched as Adama stopped a moment to get his equilibrium. The President made a movement towards him and then stopped herself. He watched as she relaxed when Adama stood with only a slight tightening of his facial features. Cottle's eyes widened when he saw her expression. Surprised, he stepped back slightly. There had been a domesticity to the whole 'it's your turn to shower' scene that he'd found disconcerting, but that look on her face...it struck a chord inside him he hadn't expected.

Unaware of Laura's concern and Cottle's probing look, Bill placed a hand against his abdomen and told them in a raspy voice, "I won't be long."

Shaking himself from his reverie, Cottle said, "Be careful when you take those bandages off. Meyes will be in to put on fresh ones in a few minutes. I'll be in to check you one last time before you leave. That'll be around 0900, right?"

Adama nodded and walked slowly toward the head.

-xxx-

After Laura had settled into her bed, Cottle moved over to take her readings. "You sleep okay?" he asked.

She looked at him warily. "Just fine, thank you," she said tersely.

He lifted an eyebrow and pretended surprise. "You don't sound so fine. In fact, I'd say you almost sound disgruntled! I'd have expected you to be looking forward to your trip out of Life Station today."

She looked at him closely, saw no signs of a hidden agenda, and relaxed a little. "Actually, we need to talk about that. I'm probably ready to leave Life Station permanently. I'm feeling well enough, and it would be much more convenient to work from my office."

Now Cottle's surprise was real.

"You want me to discharge you now?" he asked. "The Admiral's been conscious for less than twenty-four hours! He's going to be here for at least another few days. And I'd rather not see you go until I have your blood results back. I don't expect those until later today."

"The length of the Admiral's stay is up to you," she said. "I think it's time I got back to my routine. I feel fine, and it will help to be where people are able to come and go as necessary."

"It's that 'coming and going as necessary' that has me worried," Cottle argued. "I don't want you overdoing it. It hasn't been that long since I was thinking there was no way I could save your ass-" He stopped abruptly. "Sorry. What I meant to say is that you were very near death not too long ago. I'd be happier if you eased back into your duties slowly."

"One can only go so slowly," she told him. Looking at the doorway Adama had disappeared through, she said, "I think it's better if I start getting on with things."

Cottle looked at her and felt at a loss. He was used to anger, to fire, to snide remarks and ire that could burn the bristles off a boar. All he saw now was sadness. Resignation...

What a difference a few hours made.

It took away all the fun of messing with her mind.

He sighed. "Let me think about it. I refuse to let you go back to Colonial One, though. That means you stay here until I find you another place else to go, understood?"

She nodded and settled her head back against her pillow to wait for her suit.

End
Chapter 24