Chapter 15

When Laura woke up the following morning, she was vaguely aware of the aroma of fresh coffee brewing. At first, she thought that it was just wishful thinking, a simple case of the caffeine-addicted synapses of her brain firing with eager anticipation of scoring an early morning fix. But as she slipped out of bed and navigated drowsily to the sunlit kitchen, the scent of coffee grew more pronounced. As the shock of cold tile pressed against her bare feet, she heard the first creak of the coffee pot as she entered the kitchen. Her dawning realization that Bill had put a pot of coffee on for them was confirmed when she saw the friendly glow of the familiar orange light on the side of the machine.

She found the Admiral in the living room sitting cozily in her father's favorite chair. He was reading the newspaper, legs stretched out languidly with a carefree air of relaxation. It struck Laura how perfectly Bill fit in that spot. He inhabited the space like it was long-familiar, like he'd spent countless mornings brewing coffee just for the two of them while she caught a few extra minutes of sleep. She couldn't explain why she found the notion so appealing.

Bill was fully dressed in a black shirt, a pair of jeans, and brown boots that looked like they had never been worn. Laura suspected that Bill hadn't had many opportunities to wear hiking boots with all of those months on a ship. They suited him though. She regretted the fact that she hadn't gotten a chance to take him out to the trails.

He looked….good.

"Good morning, Laura," Bill moved the paper aside to glance at her with an easy smile.

Laura had been so deep in thought when he spoke that she was almost startled, but she recovered herself smoothly. Years of political gymnastics had its benefits.. "Hello, Bill. Sleep well?"

No, he hadn't slept well. Bill had spent a greater part of the night suppressing his body's desire for the woman in front of him who currently regarded him with such placid coolness that it was almost maddening. Bill almost laughed when he thought of how ridiculous he must have looked tossing and turning throughout the night in that small twin bed. Saul had been right after all. He did have a thing for Laura Roslin, gods help him - and he'd been over it again and again in his head during those interminable hours of restless arousal, carefully delineating all of the reasons that he shouldn't pursue this. His resolve to push down the attraction was so much easier in theory than in practice, especially when Laura was standing there at the edge of the living room, still dressed for bed in that silky white slip of a nightgown and the more modest robe that covered it, with a tousled chaos of red hair that was even more enticing than normal, which was saying a lot.

"I slept like a log," lied Bill. "You?"

"Oh...fine," answered Laura evasively. Mounting grief hadn't kept her up this time. Her fitful night had other causes that Laura preferred to ignore. She was becoming quite adept at circumventing her feelings for Bill, at appearing neutral when she really wasn't. She had always had a talent for intellectualizing her emotions, a characteristic that she had probably inherited from her mother. Laura still felt overwhelmed by the repercussions of her affair with Richard, only recently truly severed, and she mistrusted her instincts because of it. If she'd been so wrong about him, about them, how could she really be sure that what she was beginning to feel for Bill wasn't equally misguided?

She was still trying to navigate through years of pent up grief - that Bill had helped her through with towering unconditional support - a vague voice in her head reminded her. But for all of that, the timing was bad; Kara was going to marry his son for gods sake. She didn't want to enter into another physical relationship simply to cope with the trauma of her family's passing. Bill deserved more than that. She needed to keep a clear head and she needed to be cautious. She wanted to get back to the sanctum of her little apartment in Caprica City so that she could sort through the tumult of emotions and decide how to proceed. It was all very logical, she assured herself.

"You made coffee," observed Laura obliquely, just to have something to say while she was distracted by thoughts of Bill.

"I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. I like coffee. Thanks."

"Sure."

Laura wondered if she was having a hot flash as she stepped away from Bill to head into the kitchen to pour the coffee. Her face felt flushed. She stood on her tiptoes and grabbed a couple of mugs from an upper cupboard. The second mug that she grasped had a photograph of her father and her with her sisters, all glowing smiles, when they were little girls. The words World's Greatest Dad were printed underneath the picture. The mug had been part of a Father's Day present, accompanied by a garish gold and purple tie with a stripe of piano keys down the middle that Edward Roslin had worn proudly. Laura hastily put away her father's mug and made another selection.

"How do you like it, Bill?" Laura called as she placed a pale blue mug on the countertop.

"What?"

His voice was so unexpectedly close, Laura jumped. She hadn't realized that Bill had followed her into the kitchen.

Bill was instantly contrite. "Sorry, Laura. I didn't mean to startle you."

Laura stiffened. "It's all right. Your coffee. How do you like your coffee?"

His coffee. Of course, she meant his coffee. "Black."

Laura poured steaming coffee into the mug. "That's easy enough." She placed the coffee in front of him.

"Thanks." Bill took a long, easy sip of the scalding beverage as he watched her pour her own mug of coffee, adding cream but no sugar.

"You're like my dad," commented Laura, "He could always gulp down hot beverages while the rest of us were burning our tongues."

"Yeah. I'm always warm. Hot-blooded, I guess. You know what they say about Taurons." Bill cringed, wishing that he could stop the avalanche of misfired words. Shut up, Bill.

Laura looked amused as she quirked an eyebrow. "What do they say?"

Bill practically chugged his coffee. He nearly choked on it as he floundered. "That we have a high tolerance for heat."

"Ah." Laura regarded him skeptically.

Gods, but she almost sounded disappointed by his answer. Bill knew that he had to get out of there before he said something else that he'd regret. Or worse yet, do something else that he'd regret. "Look, Laura, I'm going to get out of your hair. Get on the road, give you some time to yourself. Thanks for a nice weekend. It was good to get away and the company was….nice." His words were as hurried as the skittering pace of his pulse. He was too old for this. Much too old.

"Bill," said Laura softly with a sincerity that suddenly made him ache, "I'm the one that should be thanking you."

He wasn't certain which one of them had initiated the embrace but he suddenly found his arms full of Laura Roslin, his chin pressed against her shoulder. He released her after a few moments, not because he really wanted to, but because it was the polite thing to do. To his surprise, she was still holding onto him and it threw him. When she did finally let go, as Bill reflexively released her, he leaned in to kiss her cheek. It would all be a blur later, but somehow the intended cheek-kiss landed directly on her mouth instead. The chaste kiss that they shared may as well have been an inferno for all of the mutual awkwardness that ensued after the innocently brief exchange. They avoided eye contact and murmured faint goodbyes, coffees forgotten, as they both extricated themselves as quickly as possible from the botched kiss-that-shouldn't-have-been and the manifold implications that accompanied it.

Laura watched from the window as Bill headed out to his car and she was overwhelmed by the feeling that there was something else that she wanted to say to him. Her eyes followed his truck as he backed out of the driveway and pulled away. She packed up her things immediately after that. The cabin felt too empty in the wake of his departure and she felt hollowed out by it. When he'd been there, the place had begun to feel like home again. But in his absence, that claustrophobic, heart-heavy feeling began to close in around her. The sensation was reminiscent of the way she'd felt the night she'd reached for that bottle of sleeping pills, praying for a few moments of oblivion. That sense of rightness that she'd felt as she'd watched Bill sitting comfortably reading the newspaper in her father's chair - was gone. She felt lonely again, which was not an unusual feeling for her. In fact, Laura had become accustomed to the pervasive feeling of loneliness so much that it had shifted into a dull kind of ambient numbness. But this unforgiving loneliness was very specific. She missed Bill.

The notion wasn't something that she was even remotely ready to face.

Laura made excellent time on the Sunday morning drive home. Aside from the lightness of the traffic, she was so immersed in thoughts about her weekend with the Admiral that the minutes just whizzed by like passing cars. Laura didn't bother turning on the air conditioner. The recent rain had cooled off Friday's oppressive humidity, even as she neared the city, and the air from outside felt amazing as it whipped through her hair. The only remnants of the heavy rain were the occasional patches of wet pavement while the sky overhead was a crisp, clear blue.

The security guard at the desk in Laura's lobby stopped her as she entered the building and handed her a vase of wilting summer flowers that had arrived Friday afternoon. Laura hastily read the small card tucked neatly into the arrangement. Wishing you much success as you embark on the next phase of your journey. - Richard. Laura snorted as she crinkled up the small card. Richard was such a consummate politician. It was probably just a last-ditch effort to secure her vote. He was so predictable. Laura stopped at the ground floor restroom, dumped out the water and then threw the entire thing into the nearest trash receptacle. She wondered how she was going to manage going through the motions as she finished out her term.

Unpacking was easy; Laura hadn't brought much to the cabin. As she reached the very bottom of her duffle bag, she pulled out two hardcover books, the one she had brought with her and a second book she didn't recognize. She must have grabbed it at the cabin. Opening the inside cover, she noticed the unfamiliar handwriting that spelled out the name Bill Adama. Laura must have picked up Bill's book without even realizing it. Laura was contemplating how she was going to return it when her cell phone rang.

"Hi, sweetheart," Laura said to Kara as she put the book down on her bed and picked up a couple of pairs of clean socks to return to her drawer.

"So how angry are you over the surprise I sent your way this weekend, on a scale of one to ten?" asked Kara.

"A solid eleven," said Laura. But she didn't sound upset.

"I want to hear all about it. Can I come over?"

Laura smiled into the phone. "Of course you can. I've missed you. Did everything go okay with your training? I want to hear all about your weekend, too."

"It went fine, Mom. It wasn't very exciting. I'll be there in a few, okay?"

"Okay."

Laura was sitting in a dining room chair with one of Kara's jackets over her lap and a sewing needle in her hand as she meticulously sewed back on the first of two missing buttons. Her daughter was sitting on the floor squeezing a stress ball and then alternatively tossing it up in the air and catching it. From the time she was a little girl, Kara had always preferred the floor over furniture and she liked to have her hands occupied. When the cold weather had come, Laura and Kara would have frequent and rather elaborate indoor carpet picnics complete with paper flowers scattered on the floor and multicolored stained glass butterflies hanging from the ceiling. Laura smiled at the memory.

"I've never seen anyone lose as many buttons as you do. It really makes one wonder about standard military issue clothing quality."

"All Lee's fault," giggled Kara with a meaningful glance at her mother.

"I suspect that this is a TMI conversation," said Laura archly as she paused for a moment when Kara's explanation sunk in.

"Probably. So….did you have a nice time in Galatea?"

"Yes, actually. It was pleasant - mostly pleasant.. Bill and I were amicable, given the circumstances of two practical strangers spending the weekend together in an isolated mountain cabin."

"I didn't want you to be alone."

"I know. You were right."

Kara grinned. "Can you say that again, please?"

Laura tossed the jacket at her daughter's head with a playful smile and then slunk down onto the floor next to her.

"He's an interesting man," Laura admitted as she tucked in her feet. "I think I see the appeal."

"Can I ask you something, Mom?"

Laura could tell from Kara's tone that the question would be a more serious one than the lighter conversation that preceded it. "Of course you can."

"You and the President...how long?"

"How did you - "

"During the cancer treatments, he sent you boatloads of flowers. Flowers that made you sick." Kara scowled. "And I remember the phone calls. Private ones that you always had to take into another room. So when Lee confessed that he saw you two together, I really wasn't that surprised. Disappointed that you didn't tell me. But not really surprised."

"We've been on-again, off-again for a long time but it's finally over. It's been over for months, really. Lee saw us together?"

"In the observation room on Galactica. Lee said that you were kissing him. You sure it's really over?"

"We argued," Laura remembered. "I made it clear to Richard that we truly are finished. He kissed me goodbye." Laura shook her head. "Of all things, Lee would walk in on that."

"You know, my friends always tell me how much they envy our relationship. How close we are, how we share things, and how great it is. And there are these two huge things happening in your life, a long term affair with the President of the Twelve frakkin' Colonies and your cancer, and you don't tell me. It's like you have this whole other life, this other you that I don't know at all. I'm not a little kid. I wouldn't have judged you. Is that why you kept it a secret?"

"I didn't tell you because it's not exactly something you want to share with your daughter. I'm not proud of it, Kara. It was a mistake."

"You can make mistakes. You can be human. You can admit that you're sad or depressed or upset or developing feelings for your boss." Kara looked directly into her mother's eyes. "Or that you're sick. You keep everything in and I just let it all spill out. I'm an open book and you're like a steel lockbox with a big padlock."

"I'll trade you?" Laura wrapped her arms around Kara and pulled her into a sideways hug. "I'm sorry. No more bombshells, okay? I do have another secret, as long as we're in this sharing mode."

"Lay it on me," said Kara cautiously.

"I'm getting out of politics. I'm finishing up my term and that's it. I think I might even go back to teaching piano, spending more time up at the cabin, working less. I played a little bit again while I was there and it felt really...good."

Kara's brown eyes widened. "Wow, Mom, that's huge."

"Bill was very helpful. We talked a lot about grief. I was pretty awful to him at the beginning of the weekend. He probably had a terrible time."

"I doubt that," said Kara wryly. "He got you playing again." Kara's smile grew and grew. "You really like him."

"Yes, I really do like Bill," Laura admitted slowly. It was strange to say it out loud. Strange and undeniable and unexpected. And wonderful.

"And?"

"And what?"

Kara rolled her eyes. "You spent a weekend with him. Did you - "

"No! Absolutely not. Of course not. It's terrible timing. I don't feel ready for this, Kara. First of all, I don't want to cause any problems for you and Lee. I mean, already, look….Lee thinks….oh, my gods, Lee must that think that I'm - "

"I'll talk to Lee. Lee will understand. Mom, you haven't done anything wrong." Kara was thoughtful for a moment. "You know, the Admiral is just getting re-acquainted with Caprica. I bet he'd find a certain red-headed tour guide to be a big asset."

"Well, actually, along that train of thought, I picked up a book belonging to him by mistake at the cabin and only just discovered it in my duffel bag. I was thinking that returning it might be a casual opportunity to see if there is any reciprocal interest."

"Reciprocal interest," mimicked Kara with an amused grin. "You and your euphemisms. I'll leave his address on the counter before I go. You could be 'in the neighborhood' and just happen to stop by to return his book."

"You wouldn't be upset, then, if I pursued this? Not that I'm saying that I'm going to. This is all speculative."

"No, Mom. I'd be happy. I've only been throwing you two together. Not that you needed much help. It's been obvious since that night we had dinner together at Altura that you two have the hots for each other. You're both just so frakkin' stubborn, neither of you will admit it." Kara grabbed her mended jacket and stood up. "I promised I'd meet Lee at the fountain. You should hold onto that needle and thread. If the Admiral is anything like his son, you might have to fix a few buttons of your own."

Laura covered her ears. "I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that."

Saul and Ellen had stopped by with some housewarming presents for Bill: a coffee pot, several odds and ends to decorate Bill's bathroom, and some little plug-in room deodorizers that made the apartment smell like a laundromat, not that Bill minded. It was a fresh, comforting scent - the gifts were Ellen's idea, no doubt. Bill wasn't really much for decorating so he especially appreciated her efforts, which saved him from having to worry so much about it.

Ellen was standing on a chair in his kitchen re-hanging Bill's curtains. "You can fix a Raptor but you can't hang a straight pair of curtains," she teased good-naturedly.

Saul opened up a bag of tortilla chips with a loud crackle. "I want to hear more about this weekend with Roslin," he grinned as he crunched loudly on a chip.

"I already told you. It was fine. It was a surprise - for both of us - but we didn't kill one another. Actually, we got along well. Mostly." Bill suppressed a laugh as he recalled her narrowed green eyes glittering with irrepressible ire during that first moment when she'd spotted him on her doorstep.

Ellen stepped off of the chair and admired her handiwork. "Much, much better." She turned to Bill. "So, did you two finally frak?"

Bill was more than used to Ellen's bluntness so the question wasn't a surprise. "No. Of course we didn't."

"You know, Bill," said Ellen, "sometimes you just have to frak first and then figure out all of the other stuff later." She kissed her husband on the cheek. "It worked for us."

"This isn't open for discussion," said Bill, definitively closing the subject with an angry glare.. "Did you bring the cards?" he growled.

"You're a cranky son-of-a-bitch when you're not getting any. Ellen has them."

"No, I don't."

"You said that you were going to toss them in your purse."

"No, I didn't. I told you that they were in my beige purse upstairs and you said that you'd grab them."

"I did not - "

Bill's apartment buzzer chimed, interrupting their bickering.

Ellen sauntered over to the security panel to see who was downstairs. She smiled widely as she peered at the screen. "It's Laura Roslin," she sang.

"Very funny, Ellen. Buzz Laura Roslin in," said Bill.

"Yes, Sir," answered Ellen with a spritely smile as she hit the button with a flourish.

Bill really should have believed Ellen, he thought, as he watched the Secretary of Education enter his apartment. Ellen gave him a triumphant smile from her position behind Laura who looked summery and fresh in her coral colored peasant top and white jeans. She was carrying a book.

"Hi, Bill. I'm sorry to drop in on you but I had to run a few errands anyway so I figured I'd get your book back to you. I must have picked it up by mistake. Sorry. Nothing worse than being in the middle of a good story and not being able to finish it."

She handed him his book. So that's where it had gone. Bill had known he'd packed it. He smiled at her. "Thanks, Laura. You didn't have to do that. You remember Saul Tigh from the decommissioning ceremony?"

"Of course. Good afternoon, Colonel."

Saul waved. "Call me Saul."

"And this is his wife, Ellen."

"Good to meet you, Laura," said Ellen graciously. "Bill has had very nice things to say about you. Congratulations about Lee and Kara."

"Thank you."

"You have perfect timing," added Ellen hurriedly. "Saul and I were just leaving."

"We were - " Ellen elbowed her husband with brute force, effectively silencing his protest. " - yeah, we were on our way out," he finished.

"Laura," added Ellen, as she grabbed her purse and Saul's arm, "Bill and Saul and I often go out for drinks together on a Friday evening. You should join us. Bill is like family and pretty soon, you're going to be family, too, so we'd love to have you."

"That sounds like fun. I'd like that."

Ellen kissed Bill quickly on the cheek before dragging Saul out of the apartment.

And for the second time in the short space of a weekend, Bill found himself alone again with Laura Roslin.