That Frakking Music

Chapter VI

Before they knew it Laura had been aboard Galactica more than a month and had both acclimatised to the early wake-up call and stopped complaining about the exercise. Most mornings she was out of her room before That Frakking Music even started. Not everything was as easy for her to get used to however and she was still an unpredictable breakfast companion, though the outbursts were gradually becoming less frequent. Very gradually.

Bill would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous about tonight. Seizing on her relatively good mood this morning he'd asked her to dinner and she'd accepted. Now he was terrified he was going to frak it up by saying the wrong thing, which he found himself doing frequently lately. Thinking he was going to say something wrong wasn't going to help him though so he tried his best not to. He just kept telling himself that if he could handle Saul, he could handle anything.

He was just beginning to wonder if she'd changed her mind when he heard her knock and the hatch swung open. 'Sorry I'm late,' she said, stepping inside and pulling the hatch shut behind her. 'Still having some trouble with the lights in my room. I think something's come loose.'

'Since you attempted a tonsillectomy on my ship?' he clarified.

'I claim temporary insanity and as it was your music that drove me insane, I would even go so far as to say it was your own fault, Admiral,' she said, seemingly unrepentantly, though they both knew better. 'I don't suppose you've got anymore of those lying around?' she asked, taking in the table and unlit candles.

'I'll have someone take another look at the wiring tomorrow,' he promised. 'Can I get you a drink?'

'Absolutely,' she said, shrugging 'whatever' when he asked what she'd prefer. She was dressed casually, in a soft, grey jumper and black trousers, and casual seemed to be the mood of the evening as she plopped herself down on the couch and made herself at home, attention instantly attracted to the row of books along the top. 'I suppose I've got more time to read now,' she mused, taking down a volume.

'There's the silver lining,' he said, handing her her drink before sinking down into the creaking leather himself.

'I suppose so. Depends on whether I can convince you to change your lending policy, doesn't it? Or lack thereof.'

'I'll consider it,' he hedged, clearly implying that she was going to have to work for it.

'What?' she asked, leaning away from him slightly as she scrutinized him, as if she would be better able to discern his intentions from there.

He laughed, 'I think I'll wait till you've got a few more of those in you.'

'In that case,' she said, downing the inch of liquid in one and handing him the book in her hand as she got up, 'I think I'll pour myself another.'

And another and another. Bill was afraid if he didn't get some food into her soon she'd be paralytic within the hour so he sent down to the galley for dinner. Not that Laura couldn't hold her liquor after all those years of attending diplomatic soirees but everyone had their limits and she seemed determined to find hers tonight.

'So…' he said, halfway through their meal.

Laura looked up at him, a forced smile on her face as she raised her glass to her lips again. It was obvious he was about to ask her something personal.

'I can't make you talk. I just thought you might want to,' he said, shaking his head slightly as if he were at a loss, which he was.

'I didn't come here for a therapy session, Bill.'

'Well that's good since I'm no therapist,' he said. 'Just a friend - I think.'

She sipped her drink again, neither confirming or denying it, perhaps thinking about it, and he felt a pang of resentment that was quickly quashed as he silently repeated the mantra that had stopped him from returning fire more than once in the last few weeks: "She doesn't mean it. Don't take it personally." Most of the time he really did believe that she couldn't help it. He could remember a time not so long ago when he hadn't been such pleasant company either. Of course Laura hadn't been around to see that, though she was largely the cause of it with her rebellion.

'I've never been much for sharing,' she said finally, sketching quotation marks around the last word. 'I mean, it doesn't change anything, things are what they are, I don't see what talking's going to do.'

'Might give you a new perspective,' he suggested.

'A new perspective or just perspective in general?' she asked and Bill sensed he was in dangerous waters. So what was new?

'It's easy to convince yourself a situation is a certain way when you only have your own opinion to rely on,' he said carefully.

Obviously not carefully enough though. 'Look, I don't need advice right now and I don't need fixing, I just need time, so can we please change the subject?'

Bill paused at the flash of anger in her voice, debating the advisability of pursuing the subject and coming down on the side of not-at-all advisable. Risk of getting a fork in the eye: HIGH. 'Okay,' he agreed, taking new interest in his food.

Laura sighed. 'I'm sorry, that was uncalled for,' she said ruefully. 'Now you see why I haven't been getting out much lately. I am not good company, even when I want to be.'

He shook his head, 'It's okay, I shouldn't have said anything.'

'You said 'so', hardly grounds for me biting your head off. I'm… I shouldn't have… I mean, I…' she broke off in obvious frustration at her sudden inability to complete a sentence. She pushed back her chair and Bill reached out to stop her, both arrested mid-action by a knock at the hatch. Moments later it swung open to reveal Colonel Tigh who ducked inside, pulling the hatch closed behind him with a distinctly furtive air.

'Asylum,' he groaned, lurching towards the drinks cart and only belatedly realising that Adama wasn't alone. 'Ah, not interrupting anything am I?' he asked, determined to have at least one drink to fortify himself whether he was disturbing them or not.

'Ellen?' questioned Bill, needlessly.

'Where?' asked Saul, head whipping up to check the hatchway. Laura couldn't help a snort of laughter, something not lost on Bill, as Saul slumped, realising it had been a question and not a hail. 'I swear to gods if anyone tells her they saw me come in here they'll be scrubbing the sewage pipes for a year,' he said darkly, downing his drink and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

'You know she's going to come looking for you eventually,' said Bill.

'I could always hide in the head,' Tigh suggested slowly, as if he knew how ridiculous he sounded, a colonel in the Colonial Fleet, hiding from his own wife.

'You don't think she'll look in there?' asked Bill sceptically.

'You've got a point there. Okay, how about if you (he indicated Roslin) go in the head with me and - wait, wait! Hear me out - and you come out while she's here. She'll never suspect that we were in there together.'

'With good reason!' laughed Laura, not sure if she was offended or not.

'All I can say is gods help you if she does check anyway. I'd like to see you talk your way out of that one,' said Bill. He really would.

'Some friend you are,' said Saul, pouring himself another drink.

'With friends like you two a man could get very thirsty,' said Bill. Laura shot him a smirk as she held her glass out to Tigh to be refilled, obviously feeling a little braver with a third person in the room to ward off anymore personal questions. That or the drink was starting to kick in. Bill shook his head.

'What? You expect me to buy my own drinks? Unemployed, remember.'

'Funny, I just heard we needed someone to scrub the sewage pipes…'

She narrowed her eyes at him, 'You wouldn't.'

Saul pulled up a chair, sliding her drink over to her. Bill didn't mind him sticking around. He was pretty sure Laura had been about to walk out of here before he'd arrived - now she was smiling. Well, no one knew how to drink their worries away better than Saul Tigh and an empty drinks cabinet was a small price to pay to hear Laura laugh for the first time in a month. He hadn't realised how much he'd missed it.

'So you got a pack of cards lying around?' said Saul, rubbing his hands together.

'Are you finished?' asked Bill, indicating Laura's half-eaten dinner.

'Mm,' she nodded, 'I'll help you clear away.' Afterwards she excused herself to use the bathroom, wagging a warning finger at Tigh as she went, 'Alone.'

The moment the door was closed Saul turned to Bill. 'You sure you don't want me to -' he nodded his head towards the hatch, '- get out of your way.'

'You're not in my way,' said Bill, emptying the last measure of whisky into his glass before pulling a fresh bottle from the cabinet. Saul obviously hadn't given up the idea that there was something going on between him and Laura and Bill hoped it wasn't because he was being utterly transparent about his feelings for her. Maybe Saul just knew him too well. Well enough not to pursue the subject anyway, at least for now. 'Cards are in the second drawer,' he said, nodding in the general direction as he had his hands full decanting the new bottle.

Laura almost walked straight into him on turning out of the bathroom. 'Whoops,' she laughed, steadying herself on his arm. 'How many have I had?'

'Can you still remember your name?' asked Tigh, in the attitude of someone applying a test.

'Yes,' said Laura, though she had to pause for a fraction of a second to think about it.

'Then not enough,' he said, shuffling the deck of cards at the table. 'You play?'

'A little,' she hedged.

'Define 'a little',' he said, suspicions raised by the coy look on her face.

'Where's the fun in that?'

And she certainly did have fun kicking their asses. Not that the boys weren't valiantly trying to hold their own, she just seemed to get better the drunker she was - or they were getting worse the drunker they got. Or Bill had been distracted at a critical moment by the way Laura had leaned forward to check the stakes and he hadn't managed to claw his way back since. Whatever the reasons, Laura had managed to get enough loans out of Adama that she'd probably have reading material for a year, not to mention the pack of smokes she'd relieved Tigh of.

'Remind me never to play for money with you,' said Saul with a groan as she produced another full-colour hand.

'Absolutely not,' chortled Laura, sweeping up her winnings. 'I think I've found my new career.'

'At least we've still got our shirts,' said Saul, starting to laugh, 'You remember those girls on Picon?'

'You'll have to be more specific,' said Bill, shuffling the cards and wondering where this was going. Fleet headquarters had been on Picon and there were a lot of misadventures to choose from over the years. Picon City was built to get a soldier in trouble.

'You know the ones: tall blonde, cute redhead.'

'Ah gods,' he said, shaking his head ruefully.

'What happened?' asked Laura, wholly intrigued.

'This was back when we were working freighters,' explained Tigh. 'We were down on Picon for some R'n'R, met a couple of pretty girls, got to talking and one of them suggests going back to their place. Of course, we weren't about to turn 'em down, I mean these girls were -'

'Very attractive,' supplied Bill, interrupting Saul's impression of an extremely buxom woman.

'Very attractive,' agreed Saul emphatically, still looking like he was holding a pair of invisible melons. 'Anyway, we get back to their place and somehow end up getting into a game of strip triad.'

Laura raised her eyebrows at Bill, surprised and just a touch impressed. She'd never really pictured Bill as a ladies' man before. Perhaps it was the fact that he still wore his wedding ring, she just couldn't imagine him picking up girls in bars. Too risqué for the stoic admiral. Tigh, on the other hand… She'd have to ask him how he met Ellen sometime.

'Sharks,' said Bill, of the two girls, refocusing her attention.

Tigh laughed, 'Well, they were winning alright. We're sitting pretty in our boxers and hadn't got so much as an earring off either of them.' The mental image alone was enough to make Laura titter. 'And, well, not long after that…' said Tigh, drawing it out for dramatic effect and Laura suddenly wondered if she actually wanted to hear the end of this story. Bill groaned, covering his eyes. 'Their boyfriends turned up.'

'No!' exclaimed Laura, both horror-struck and engrossed.

'I'd just like to point out that we didn't know these guys existed,' said Bill, as if he could salvage some part of his pride.

'Not till we were climbing out the window in our birthday suits anyway!' guffawed Tigh, slapping the table.

'Oh my gods!' gasped Laura between giggles. 'What happened to your clothes?'

'The blonde threw them out of the window a little too enthusiastically. By the time we got down the fire-escape to the street a bunch of frak-wits from the bar across the road had run off with 'em. They'd been stood outside, probably saw it all and thought it'd be funny.'

'Oh, they definitely saw it all,' laughed Bill.

'And of course our frakking wallets were in our clothes,' laughed Saul.

Laura clapped a hand to her mouth in delighted dismay. 'You mean to tell me -?'

'Five kilometres. Naked,' nodded Bill, in unhappy confirmation.

'And it's frakking cold on Picon.'

Laura was in stitches now, half-collapsed at the table, and it was contagious. It took them a good few minutes and another round of drinks to calm themselves down. 'Oh my gods,' gasped Laura, massaging her aching face. 'I have to pee,' she announced suddenly, getting up, wobbling, and promptly sitting back down again. 'My legs appear to be drunk,' she said, as if unable to fathom how this remarkable effect had been accomplished. The second attempt was more of a success, though her path to the bathroom wasn't exactly straight and true.

'I'm surprised she's not under the table yet,' commented Saul quietly, once the door was safely shut.

'Give her time,' he said. 'Seems to be where she's aiming for.'

Saul briefly raised an eyebrow but said nothing, being in no position to comment on anyone else's drinking habits. 'Seems to be having a good time.'

'Just don't tell her about that stripper on Canceron.'

'Was that the one who could tie a cherry stalk in a knot with her tongue?' he asked thoughtfully.

'That's the one,' said Bill, glancing at the bathroom door, just in case.

'Gods, I'd forgotten about her…' said Saul, gaze unfocussed for a moment, a slow smile spreading across his face. 'You know you wouldn't let me tell Carolanne that one, either.'

If Bill had a response to that Laura's re-emergence swiftly silenced him.

'You're quiet,' she noted, as she sat down. 'You weren't talking about me, were you?' she joked.

'No,' they said simultaneously and a little too quickly. She looked at them suspiciously.

'So what were you talking about?' she, naturally, asked.

'Cherries,' said Saul. Bill booted him under the table and Saul was hard-put not to yelp.

'Cherries?' she repeated.

'They're a type of fruit.'

'Yes, I know what they are.'

'Just wondering what they're gonna put on sundaes now…' Bill could have kicked him again. Laura was getting more and more suspicious by the moment and he really didn't want to get to the point where they had to tell her the Canceron-stripper story in order to convince her that they hadn't been talking about her behind her back - when she'd walked out of the bathroom at least…

'Sundaes?' she said sceptically.

'Yeh, that's -'

'I know what a sundae is, colonel,' she said, with a slight bite of impatience.

'You looked confused.'

She narrowed her eyes but then seemed to decide she couldn't be bothered to dig for answers. 'It's alright, you don't have to tell me,' she said with an easy shrug, clumsily tapping a cigarette from the pack in front of her and rubbing Saul's loss in his face. 'You gonna deal?' she asked Bill, in whose hands the cards lay forgotten.

'Yes, ma'am,' he said, just relieved that all cherry-related inquiries had ceased. He had half a mind to grass Saul up to Ellen…

No sooner had he thought it than there was a knock at the door. Bill looked at his watch and saw it was almost midnight, a bit late for a social call, so it probably really was Ellen. 'Frak!' said Tigh, jumping up and looking for a likely place to hide. You'd think the admiral's quarters would have more than one exit. He looked at Laura, who took one look at him and started shaking her head and laughing. 'Bill, hide my glass. You - with me,' he said, urging Laura out of her chair as another, more persistent knock came. 'I rigged an election for you - you owe me!' he said, dragging her out of her chair and not caring that Bill looked like he'd rather like to thump him for his last comment. Apparently rigged elections were not to be treated lightly but this was life and death!

'This is ridiculous,' said Laura, nonetheless ending up shut in the tiny bathroom with Saul.

'Shh!' he said, when they heard the outer hatch open but Laura could feel a fit of the giggles bubbling up. It was just so absurd, they were acting like childrenand she knew that if any one of them were sober this would never have happened and, gods help her, she couldn't keep it in! She clamped a hand over her mouth, Tigh shooting her murderous looks which only made her laugh harder as they listened to the muffled sound of Bill's deep voice, no doubt proclaiming that not only was Saul not there, but he hadn't seen him all evening.

'Will you pull yourself together! You've gotta get out there!' Tigh hissed. Laura just looked at him, biting her lip and shaking with suppressed laughter. 'Go!'

She gave him a thumbs up, knowing that if she opened her mouth she was doomed, and pulled the door open, almost squashing Tigh between it and the wall. She half-tripped through the doorway, vision impaired by the tears in her eyes. As predicted, Tigh's attractive but taxing wife, Ellen, was there.

'Ellen!' she said in a strangled voice. She also said, 'How nice to see you,' but most of it registered at a pitch only audible to dogs. Behind Ellen's slightly bemused back, Bill was beginning to feel the urge to laugh himself as he witnessed Laura's struggle. Every time she opened her mouth to say something giggles dribbled out instead.

'I didn't mean to interrupt,' said Ellen, glancing between the two of them curiously. 'Just looking for that husband of mine.'

Laura nodded, unable to do anything else bar squeak.

'But I guess he's not here. Um, enjoy the rest of your evening,' she said, with a shadow of a smirk as she moved towards the door. It would have come off perfectly had it not been for the 'Ach-choo!', immediately followed by what sounded remarkably like skin and bone connecting with a door at speed. Laura thought it best not to be an obstacle in Ellen's path and (in an attitude not dissimilar to someone in desperate need of a bathroom) scurried over to where Bill stood in front of the sofas, almost folded in half with laughing. Slapstick was not dead.

They sank as one hysterical mass onto the sofa though Laura - who appeared to have lost all muscle control - continued sliding until she was on the floor, crying into Bill's thigh, absolutely incapable of looking contrite even in the face of Ellen's obvious and deep displeasure when she emerged from the bathroom with Saul in tow. Saul was not laughing but he did have a nice red weal coming up on his forehead.

Ellen looked as if she'd like to take the matter up with Laura but quickly deduced that it would be pointless since both former-president and admiral were practically insensible. 'I'll deal with you two later,' she promised. 'Now, you mind explaining to me what the frak you were doing locked in a bathroom with that school-teacher?' they could hear her demanding as she dragged poor Saul off by the ear, who looked as if he'd rather be on his way to the gallows.

'Oh. My. Gods,' gasped Laura, when she regained the power of speech ten minutes later, pulling herself into a sitting position (rather than continuing to lie flat on her back wedged between the trunk and the sofa, as she had been since the Tighes departure).

Bill was also sitting up, ruddy-faced as he wiped tears from his eyes. 'Not quite how I saw the night ending,' he commented.

'Do you think he'll survive?'

'Intact?' he asked, looking dubious, and they both started laughing again.

Laura could still hear him laughing as he took off to the head to relieve himself. She chuckled to herself and yawned, sinking back into the sofa, legs propped up on the trunk. The next thing she knew Bill was shaking her by the shoulder and she frowned a little, blearily attempting to open her eyes. 'I'm not sleeping,' she slurred.

'Course you're not,' he humoured her.

She hummed, trying to wake herself up a little. 'S'pose that's my cue to leave,' she said, dragging a hand through her hair and taking a deep breath as she sat up. She squinted around for her shoes which she had dim recollections of discarding under the dining table some hours ago. Bill retrieved them for her, agreeing that it was probably high-time she was tucked up in bed.

'I'll walk you back to your room,' he said as she slipped the second shoe on and reached out for a helping hand to stand.

'Oh no, that's 'kay, s'not far, I'll be fine,' she said airily, tottering precariously on her feet before she'd even contemplated locomotion and Bill caught her shoulders. She swallowed, 'I don't feel so good.'

'Do you feel sick?' he asked urgently, preferring to know sooner rather than vomit-covered-uniform-later.

'I need to sit down,' she said, clutching his arm for support as the couch see-sawed below her.

He helped her sit before fetching the pail-like metal bin from beside his desk, hastily tipping out the paper contents. When he returned she was sitting forward with her head in her hands, groaning faintly. 'Here,' he said, placing the bin close to her feet. 'In case you feel ill.'

She slid it across to sit between her feet in optimum vomit-catching position, very much hoping she wouldn't have need of it. Meanwhile Bill wetted a flannel in the bathroom, wringing out the excess water and folding it into a neat, forehead-sized rectangle before taking it to her. He also had a tall glass of water standing by.

He spent ten minutes listening to her measured breathing from his perch on the trunk opposite before finally asking if the room had stopped spinning yet. She groaned again, pulling the flannel away from her face as she slowly raised her head to look at him. 'Why did you let me drink so much?'

He harrumphed, offering her the glass of water. She accepted it with a sincere thank you, gulping down a few mouthfuls with a thirsty smack of her lips.

'Mind if I just keel over here?' she asked, when she had taken her fill, handing both flannel and glass back to him.

'You can take the bed,' he said immediately but she shook her head.

'Trust me, with the state I'm in I wouldn't notice if I slept on the floor,' she said, moving the bin and slipping her shoes off again.

Before he could insist she was pulling her sweater off, exposing several inches of stomach in the process, and he felt compelled to get up and search for a spare pillow and blanket. Of course by the time he'd reached the other side of his quarters he'd remembered that the spare bedding was inside the very trunk he'd just been sitting on. Fortunately he still had the glass and flannel in his hands so he managed to cover his momentary fluster by disposing of them.

When he returned to remove the few items still scattered on top of the trunk Laura's attire was thankfully straightened out, though the little black vest she wore was distressingly low-cut. Luckily Laura was too sozzled to notice the way his gaze kept flickering uncontrollably towards her 'vest' as he bent over the trunk. He let the lid fall shut as he straightened up with a couple of blankets and turned to find her looking up at him expectantly, swaying slightly with inebriation, hair tousled from it's trip through her jumper.

She was beautiful. How could he think otherwise? In that moment he was incapable of thinking anything else. Not that he would act on it when she was like this. And he didn't just mean drunk. When the alcohol wore off she still wouldn't be in any position to hear that he had those kinds of feelings for her. Any betrayal of them now would be sure to end in disaster. A guy could dream though and he was pretty sure he'd be dreaming of Laura in that black vest tonight.

Laura gestured for the pillow and he broke eye-contact, looking down as he unfolded a blanket, motioning for her to scoot up a little as he spread it over the seat. Her gaze followed his actions without really seeing and he wondered, not for the first time, what she was thinking when she got that glazed look in her eye. This time his curiosity was to be somewhat satiated though he felt a pricking of his heart at her words.

'What do I have to do to make you hate me?' she asked softly. 'I've been awful to you and … look at you,' she shrugged, looking as though she might cry over his entirely banal efforts to make sure she was comfortable for the night.

'Why do you want me to hate you?' he asked, because he couldn't answer her question. Because he honestly couldn't think of anything that could change his feelings for her so drastically.

'Because you should,' she said simply, as if he would mistake her assuredness for truth. As if he could. 'You're better than me, Bill. You do the right thing. I do 'the right thing right now' or 'the right thing for the survival of the fleet' but that wasn't always the right thing. I don't have the courage to stand on that kind of principle when there are lives at stake. I didn't have the right. They trusted me with their lives. But you, you're... noble. You're a hero, you're Zeus on Mount Olympus, you're -'

'Not nearly as drunk as you are,' he interrupted quickly, trying to laugh off her litany. In no universe did he believe himself to be made of better stuff than Laura Roslin but he'd rather tell her so when she was more likely to remember it - and believe it. 'You need a good night's rest.'

'Huh,' she laughed, lying down. 'Chance would be a fine thing.'

He'd turned down the lights and was headed towards his own bed when she finally spoke again. 'I'm sorry for the way I've been treating you,' she called out of the shadows after him. He stopped, turning back but not moving any closer, sensing she needed the darkness and distance to say what she had to say. 'I don't mean to be such a bitch all the time, I just,' he heard her sigh, shift a little. 'I don't know what I'm going to do or what's going to happen with this frakking planet and… I'm scared,' she finally admitted with difficulty. 'I hate just sitting around here. It's making me crazy.'

'I know,' he said softly. He hadn't been the one who needed to hear it out loud. 'Get some sleep.'

AN: And that's the end of part one, folks. Please please me no end by leaving a review. The first chapter of The ExPresident 2 is going up tonight. Thanks for reading!