July, 2003
Laura stopped scrubbing and wrung out her cloth when she heard the doorbell ring. Before she went to answer it, she paused a moment to glance quickly around the kitchen. She decided that it was good enough for the inspection.
She swiped at an errant lock of hair that kept falling in her eyes. Taking the clip out of her hair and holding it between her teeth, she opened the door. She was surprised, yet secretly delighted, to see the man who stood the other side.
"Good morning," he greeted her.
Twisting her hair into a makeshift bun and clipping it into place, she grinned across at him.
"Captain." Laura noticed the way her voice automatically took on a low, flirty tone when she greeted Bill Adama. "I didn't know you were home," she added.
"I only just got in," he replied. "Saw your car out front."
Laura's eyes traveled up his body, admiring his sturdy shape underneath the neat khaki shirt and trousers that made up his uniform.
"I have to run into town to stock up on supplies," Bill said. "I thought you might like to come with me. Join me for a coffee."
Laura looked down at her dress. She was wearing it for comfort, not style. Surprisingly, it still seemed clean enough, but it wasn't something she would normally wear out in public, especially in Washington. It looked drab and ordinary next to his his crisp uniform.
"Maybe I should change first."
"You look beautiful," he said.
She froze and looked across at him. Her breath caught when she saw the expression on his face; he really did think she was beautiful.
"Just—", he began, then reached out and used his thumb to wipe carefully at a smudge on her cheek.
Laura bit down on her lip, feeling electricity pulse through her body at his touch.
"Better," he murmured, then cleared his throat. "You were spring cleaning?"
"Yes. I'm getting the house ready to put on the market."
"You're selling?" Bill asked, with a surprised lift of his brows.
"Yes," Laura sighed. "I should have done it last year. Instead of—"
He reached out and took her hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze.
"At least I've opened the curtains this year," she joked.
Bill merely gave her a sad, sympathetic smile.
"I'll just grab my purse," she said.
"You won't need it. If I invite a lady out for coffee, I intend to foot the bill."
"Such a gentleman," she teased, adjusting their joined hands so that they could walk side by side. She felt lightheaded when the fingers of one hand remained linked with his as she locked the door.
They were almost at his car when she heard another vehicle pull up and into her driveway. Laura was shocked when she recognized the low red sports car and the person climbing out of it.
"Sean!" she exclaimed, letting Bill's hand drop abruptly.
The tall, muscle-bound man she'd been seeing off and on for the last few months smiled brightly in her direction. He carried a huge bouquet of red roses.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"I came down to spend a few days with you, of course." He looped an arm around her waist, pulled her toward him, and bent his head to kiss her. She instantly pushed back on his chest, uncomfortable that Bill should witness such a display.
"I… I don't—"
"I'll give you a rain check on that coffee," Bill said from behind her. Laura spun around, searching his face. He kept his eyes downcast; his stance polite, yet remote. "I'll see you later, Laura."
She opened her mouth to protest, but he was already inside his car, slamming the door.
"You were going out for coffee?" Sean asked as she watched Bill's car reverse and drive away.
"Yes," she murmured, trying to control her anger. She couldn't decide whom she was angriest with: Sean, Bill, or herself.
"Why don't you put these in water, and we can head out for the same thing? You can show me around your quaint little town. Or show me off; whatever you'd prefer."
Laura gave a jerky nod and stalked back into the house with the flowers. She realized dimly that she was making quite a lot of noise as she clattered around in her kitchen cabinets, searching for an empty vase.
"Great spot," Sean said as he wandered around the ground floor, occasionally opening drawers and closets to peer inside. "Though if you were closer to the harbor, you could get more money for this place."
She found a pair of scissors and snipped violently at the flowers' stems before shoving them into the vase she'd found.
"Right," she snapped. "Ready?"
"Are you going to get changed, babe?" Sean asked.
She raised an eyebrow. "Changed?"
"In case we run into anyone."
She grunted, but headed to her bedroom nevertheless. Getting changed would give her a moment to reflect, at least.
0.0.0
Laura banged on Bill's door again. She'd already rung his bell a few times, and knocked once. She didn't think he was the type to deliberately ignore someone knocking, but in truth, how much did she really know about him?
She had only talked to him a few brief times in a couple of years, so the reality was that she didn't know anything, no matter how much she felt that she did.
She raised her hand, telling herself this would be his last chance. The door opened. He stood in the doorway, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his hair dripping.
"Sorry," he muttered. "I was in the shower."
She forgot whatever she'd been about to say as her gaze became riveted on his naked chest for a long moment.
He stood back invitingly. "Come in. I'll just go and get dressed."
He disappeared up the stairs, leaving her to study his house unabashedly. She remembered Cheryl extolling the décor of Bill's home. She gravitated toward the living room. The space could almost be classed as a library; it overflowed with books of all shapes and sizes. They were stacked neatly in the bookshelves, as well as less tidily in scattered piles around the floor. She wondered for a moment if Cheryl was looking down at her and laughing.
"What can I do for you?"
Bill had returned. He stood in the doorway, dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt. He looked like he'd simply run his fingers through his hair. Laura frowned; her fingers were itching to do the same.
What did she want? What was she doing here? She didn't owe Bill Adama any explanations.
Laura turned away from his gaze, studying his living room again. "Could I borrow a book?" she blurted out.
She turned back and saw that, for once, his stoic expression had slipped. He seemed as surprised as she was by the request.
"You have time to read tonight?"
Laura bristled at his sarcasm. "Yes. Sean's gone," she snapped.
He grunted.
"Not that it's any of your business," Laura went on, "but I didn't invite him here. I didn't think things were serious enough that he'd just turn up on my doorstep like that."
He stared directly into her eyes. His mouth remained clamped shut.
"We weren't in what I'd call a committed relationship."
He continued to give her the same steady look, which only caused her to become more frustrated.
"It was just sex," she said, hoping to shock him into action.
Bill's jaw tightened, but he remained silent.
She wanted him to yell at her; throw something at her. "He never knocked me back," she taunted.
Finally, she saw his nostrils flare at this jibe. "You'd have liked it better if I had slept with you that night?" Bill ground out. "You'd think I was more of a man, to take advantage of you when you were in that state?"
He turned his back to her, searching amongst the titles of his bookcase.
Laura whimpered when she felt tears spring to her eyes. She didn't want to cry; she wanted to stay angry. Being angry was much easier. She was so tired of crying. She felt like she'd been crying for years now.
"Here," Bill said, holding a book in her direction.
Laura looked down and saw the title. More tears welled in her eyes.
"How did you know?" she asked.
"Cheryl told me." His voice held none of its previous gruffness. Instead, it was gentle and sympathetic.
"You and Cheryl got along well."
"I never had a daughter," he said simply.
"You only knew her a few days."
He never answered, but she knew that the connection had run deep, even in that short time.
She choked. "My mother died of cancer. Cheryl and Sandra were so young. Only nine and seven when it happened."
Bill nodded, making her wonder just how much Cheryl had told him. "She loved you," he said softly.
Laura smoothed a hand gently across the cover of the book. "I'll return this before I head back to Washington."
"Keep it."
"I can't—"
"Keep it," he repeated.