Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She never missed the pumps.

Laura hummed happily to herself as she moved quickly through the marsh at the edge of the New Caprican settlement. It wasn’t far now, soon she would be out of sight, partially hidden by the shrubby woods which transitioned into a young forest. She relished the freedom her army-issued boots gave her as she effortlessly moved forward.

Even with the extra socks that Bill slipped her, the boots had taken a while to break in, which had been hell. But, once her feet had molded to them… heaven. Way more comfortable than the pumps had ever been. Perfectly suited to her role and to New Caprica. Who knew? Army boots made her happy. She’d stored the pumps, along with the remainder of her Presidential ‘apparatus’ in storage under Bill’s bunk, and she was perfectly happy to leave them there. Perhaps she should have donated the stuff, but really, how useful could it be, here? That’s what she kept telling herself, anyway.

She tried to ignore the voice at the back of her brain which whispered that she might need those clothes, again, someday.

Anyway, she never missed the pumps.

She wasn’t a woman who identified herself through her clothes, like Ellen Tigh, who was never completely happy unless she decked in feminine attire, pink pumps matching perfectly to her pastel pink outfit. Laura loved clothes, but mainly she loved how they allowed her to transition through roles. Dressing like a Cabinet Secretary or a President helped make you feel like one, almost as if you were putting on a suit of armor.

The same was true here. She was dressed like the teacher of a one-room schoolhouse at the edge of nowhere, and she was happy. The loss to Baltar still stuck in her craw, and she hoped they weren’t stuck on this rock forever, but still, she could be happy to teach for the rest of her life. She only hoped it would be on earth, and not New Caprica.

It wasn’t that Laura didn’t miss high heels, miss dressing up, miss feeling like a woman. If there was one thing that heels did, they made you feel like a woman. Maybe if they weren’t those heels, the ones she privately thought as her ‘proper’ Secretarial heels; with a slightly squared toe, and low, chunky heel. They were the ones she wore to accomplish Cabinet duties which required a lot of standing. Decommissioning a battlestar certainly fit into that category. As a result, she had been wearing them that day, the day of Fall, at the end of worlds. She shouldn’t complain, really, it was only luck she’d had more than one outfit and some toiletries that day; Adar had been unsure whether to send her for three days or one, so she’d over-packed to be safe.

Ironic.

So no, she didn’t miss the pumps. The heels she’d left in her closet on Caprica, now, those she missed. The dainty gold sling backs with the impossibly high heels she’d bought with a friend in the spur of the moment. The pumps, leather and imprinted with a mock crock pattern, with pointed toes and the perfect skinny heels, the ones she referred to as old faithful. They were so comfortable and so appropriate despite their height that she’d bought matching pairs in brown and black. The electric yellow pumps with the rubber soles which were actually comfortable despite their excessive height. The black open-toed salsa shoes with the flower accent and the small platform to make up for the four inch heel height. The pumps in the palest of lavender with the purple trim which were both absurdly uncomfortable and absurdly sexy.

And, of course, the suede pumps she brought on a whim at a discount sale the month before the attacks. With a platform heel and a delicately curved toe, they were the bluest of royal blue, just slightly lighter in tone than the Colonial blues she had been surrounded by for so long. Come to think of it, they were just lighter in shade than Bill’s eyes...

She didn’t often dwell on the things she lost, both tangible and not. In the immediate aftermath of the attacks, she hadn’t had time to think of the loss of her home and everywhere she’d ever known. There wasn’t time to do anything other than survive, and if she thought about loss, she thought about people. If she longed for things, it was food. Food, or medicine, or materials to survive.

When things had slightly calmed down, when they weren’t running every single moment of every single day, she knew others thought about what they had lost; pined for them. She did too, just not for clothes. Food, yes. Books, yes. Her bed? Yes. Space and sun and home? Oh, yes. A day without pain? Always. Although, that was hardly the fault of the Cylons and more of her unfaithful body, as it betrayed her from within, as the cancer she hadn’t believed she’d ever escape destroyed her, cell by cell.

She missed things more, now that she was out of office, now she had time on her hands, now that she had to fight with Baltar for every little thing for her school. Now that she lived in a lonely little tent by herself. She had too much time on her hands. There was too much loneliness. Too much missing from her life.

She shook it off. Today was not a day to be mournful. Today, the sun was shining, even with the chill in the air, and she had her faithful Army boots, and she was on her way through the woods. She was in the foothills now, moving towards the mountains, headed towards the stream she’d found, the one that came down from the glacier lake. It was mostly hidden, although there was a small forest meadow nearby. The water there was so clear, it was like looking through glass. She wrapped her crimson red wrap further around her body. It was too cold for a skirt, but the wrap went equally well with her heavy pants. Added some color to her day. She picked up her pace; she was running late.

She arrived about twenty minutes later. She’d gotten adept at telling time, generally, from the sun, although timekeeping planet side was loose, at best. Still, she was pretty sure she’d made it before he had. Impatiently, she scanned the sky, looking for a lone Raptor coming in from the north.

Seeing nothing, she moved back towards the stream, stopping to drag the two sandbags she’d stashed on earlier. Dragging the bags behind her, she moved them into position, protected by the trees but still with the stream in sight. She’d come up the previous week, the empty bags in tow, before filing them with ‘alluvial deposits.’ It had been a sweaty, frustrating afternoon, but well worth it. She smirked. As an added bonus of all that physical labour, she increasingly had some definition to her biceps.

Looking good, Roslin.

She would need that strength, and those skills. She'd a cabin to build. Satisfied that the sandbags were in place, she took off her back-pack and unhooked the attached sleeping bags and blankets. It should be enough, but if it got colder than anticipated they could always grab everything and hole up in the Raptor. She then hung the pack on a nearby branch, taking care to ensure that it was high enough up so that the food for the picnic inside didn’t attract any wildlife. Grabbing a container she had brought, she carefully bent down and filled it with some of the icy water from the free-flowing river.

As she worked in the shadows of the trees edging the perimeter of the meadow, far from the warmth given by the sun, she shivered a little. Distracted, she thought again of her well-stocked closet in the apartment she’d been forced to abandon long ago. She could feel the chill in the air; winter was coming and she felt as if she’d never be cozy again. She missed her warm winter clothes, her sweaters and her collection of hats, scarves and mitts. She used to love walking through Caprica City during those days when the chill was in the air but lacked the bite of winter. Most of all she missed her long, warm, down-filled parka in chocolate brown which zipped to her chin, reached her mid-calf and had a hood trimmed with rabbit fur.

Her collection of boots.

The warm winter boots with the sheepskins lining. The riders in leather that zipped up past her knee. The warm grey mukluks. The booties she loved but didn’t get to wear a lot. The two pairs of flat slouchy fall boots, again in black and brown. The hiking boots she’d bought at the last minute for a camping trip. And the high, shiny, jet black leather boots which slicked up her calves, did wonders for her legs, and added three inches to her height.

Those she missed.

Again, not practical for her current lifestyle, but, oh, she did miss those.

She resisted the urge to check out the meadow again. She knew it was silly, but she didn’t want to leave their campsite unattended. Plus, the wind kicked up by the Raptor was significant, and she didn’t want to be in the way. She knew he would want to land as close as possible to the edges of the meadow to minimize the small ship's visibility.

In any case, he knew the way. He could come to her.

It might be nice to get a small fire going, though. She dug out a small fire pit before moving into the edge of the forest and bending down to start gathering twigs and small branches. She heard a noise behind her, and starting to turn, she was surprised as unanticipated pain suddenly erupted in the side of the head…

Wait. This isn’t the forest, Laura thought as she looked up at the grey bulkhead...

Chapter Text

Wait. This isn’t the forest, Laura thought as she looked up at the grey bulkhead. Turning her head slightly, that hurts, she saw the green curtains that partitioned off cubicles in Galactica’s sick bay.

The Galactica? How did she end up here? Hearing a rustle, she kept her head still as Medic Ishtay moved into the small space and smiled reassuringly at her. At least Laura thought it was meant to be reassuring. The edges of her eye-line were getting fuzzy. She tried to concentrate enough to ask Ishtay the questions running through her brain.

‘Adama…’ was as far as she got before she passed out again.

Chapter Text

He sat reading in the chair next to her cot, waiting, when she woke again. It seemed she could summon him with her thoughts alone.

Now there’s an idea.

‘Hello.’

 He looked up at her from the stack of paperwork in his lap.

‘There you are. No, careful,’ he warned her as she tried to sit up, ‘watch your head.’

Sure enough, it was pounding.

‘Maybe I’ll just rest my eyes.’

‘Sounds like a good idea. Just don’t pass out again. You had us all a little worried. Sleeping Beauty didn’t want to wake up.’

‘Did you try kissing her?’ She asked without thinking and blushed as he laughed his deep, throaty laugh.

‘I thought of that, but Cottle tells me it’s not an actual medical treatment. Still…’

He leaned over to kiss her gently, careful not to touch her forehead where it was covered with a large plaster bandage.

She smiled up at him. ‘I thought you were coming to me this weekend.’

‘I did. And it was a good thing, too. I found you in the forest, passed out next to the camp. What’s the last thing you remember, Laura? Who did this to you?’

Did this to her? Did what to her?

She suddenly realized how sore her head was. She thought she must have tripped and banged it on a log, but the back of her head hurt too. In fact, now that she was fully awake, she realized that the whole right side of her head ached. And her left side…why did it feel like someone was standing on her side? She shifted in the bed, trying to get comfortable.

Ah. Okay, moving is not really such a good idea.

‘Laura?’

She turned to look back at Bill. What did he ask her again?

‘What’s the last thing you remember?’

‘I can’t… I was waiting for you, I was just finding some twigs for the fire…’

‘You don’t remember anything after that?’

‘No…’ she tried to think, ‘just being here, and Ishtay…’

He sighed and she could see the worry in his eyes, as clearly as she could the weariness that sat lightly on his shoulders. When was the last time he slept in a bed? How long have I been out?

‘I found you on the ground, bleeding. I panicked, threw you and the stuff into the Raptor and flew like a madman getting you here. Cottle says whatever they hit you over the head with rattled your brain but good. The injuries to your ribs are almost as bad; he’s worried about internal bleeding. If I hadn’t found you, if I’d been delayed…it could have been much worse.’

‘Wait, what?’ She was getting so confused. ‘What do you mean? Someone hit me? Who hit me?’

He patiently went through the explanation again before continuing.

‘Cottle says you have a concussion and two broken ribs. He’ll be here soon. He says you’ll probably get confused for the next little bit.’

Okay, that made sense. She was confused. She reached to take his hand, looking for his reassurance, just as Cottle came in. As usual, there was a cigarette hanging out of the Doc’s mouth, although he didn’t have it lit, apparently as a concession to her head injury. He went through a more detailed description of her injuries and the likely consequences, as well as warning signs to look out for.

‘You’re probably confused, one of the effects of the concussion is that you are likely to be unable to remember the event. Anyway, you’re going to have to stay here. Someone’s going to wake you every few hours to check for concussion symptoms. Fever or coughing up blood means there’s something more serious going on. Nasty combination, broken ribs and concussion, conflicting symptoms.’

She was stuck here? She hated sickbay, it brought back too many memories. She was being selfish, she knew it, she’d been lucky it hadn’t been worse, but this wasn’t what she’d had in mind for the next couple of days.

I will not cry, I will not cry.

Apparently it got worse.

‘Long-term we’ll have to keep an eye out for internal injuries, so you’re stuck with us for two to three weeks.’

Two to three weeks? In Sickbay? NO. She rebelled internally. She could not do it. Was he crazy?

‘Those ribs are going to hurt like the dickens, you need to breathe as deeply as you can, even with the pain. You need to expand your lungs while the ribs heal. I’ll give you some painkillers, but take it easy on ‘em or I won’t know how you’re healing.’

By the time Cottle left she could feel herself deflating as she sunk back into the pillows. Trying not to look as pitiful as she felt, she looked up at Bill, holding back tears. She tried to force a smile, but she knew it came out wobbly.

‘Two to three weeks? His bedside manner will kill me. That or the cancer will come back from the cigarette smoke. You gotta spring me. You create a distraction while I make a run for it.’

He smiled back at her, though she had felt the tension in him growing as Cottle had more fully described the extent of her injuries. Whoever had attacked her had clearly done a thorough job in just a few minutes. She knew him too well not to see the anger under the stoic exterior.

‘Just rest for now, Laura. We’ll figure something out.’

She was tired. Maybe she’d just close her eyes for a little bit, wait for the ringing in her ears and the dizziness to calm down. Holding on to his hand she closed her eyes and passed out.

Chapter Text

Her head still pounded when she woke up again, but she was grateful that the nausea had passed, at least for now. Looking down she saw that someone had left a bucket by her bed, which was something. She wouldn’t have to go far when it returned.

She stared glumly up at the ceiling. Three weeks. Three weeks stuck in this cot. How would she ever get any sleep? They never turned the lights out. She made a face. Not to mention the cigarette smoke.

Well, she’d just have to make it work. She’d have Maya find a sub for her classes, never an easy task, and let the parents know. Maybe get her or Tory to send her up some clothes. She couldn’t spend the next few weeks in a hospital gown or one pair of pants. Maybe Bill could find her a bunk? She hated to ask for special favours, didn’t want to put him in that position, but there might be space from one of his crew who’d moved planet-side…maybe she could borrow their bed? Anything had to be better than spending almost a month in sickbay.

Still, she wasn’t sure that going home right away would have been the safest option either. Who would have wanted to hurt her that badly? And why had they been in the area, anyway? It was a substantial hike away from the settlement, and her and Bill were really the only two people who frequented that meadow anyway.

She turned to see him moving in to her curtained-off area. Speak of the devil. He was carrying her clothes over his arm, freshly cleaned, she saw thankfully, and her boots dangled from his hand. Hallelujah. Clothes. He smiled at her and he had a certain twinkle in his eye.

Now, what is he planning?

‘Dr. Roslin. Glad to see you’re up.’

She quirked her eyebrow at him, wondering at the formality.

‘Admiral.’

He dropped her clothes carefully on the foot of her bed and placed her boots on the deck underneath. Straightening, he absently checked her forehead with the back of his hand for fever. Must be a dad thing, she thought. Even though he’d told her he regretted not being there enough for his sons when they were younger, the extent of his skills belied that.

‘Chop, chop. Don’t dawdle. We’ve got places to go.’

She smiled as he left quickly so she could get dressed, the curtain swishing behind him.

It took her longer than she had expected to dress herself, the dizziness returning at awkward moments, even when she was sitting on the bed. Wishing apologies at the laundry staff of the Galactica, she even had to tie her boots with her feet on the bed, her ribs aching the entire time. When she had tried bending down to tie them though, she had almost toppled to the floor. Finally, though, she made her way of the cubicle and found him waiting patiently at parade rest for her.

She moved as quickly as she could towards him.

‘We’re really making a break for it? Quick, let’s go before Cottle gets back. Don’t know how fast I can run, though. Pull rank on anyone who tries to stop us.’

He offered her an arm to link her through it, surreptitiously supporting her as they walked. There was a laugh hanging on the edge of his lips as he looked down at her.

‘Don’t worry, I bribed him. I promised him I’d take his problem patient off his hands.’

They walked slowly down the hall, and though she had no idea where she was going or what the plan was, she relaxed. Whatever it was, she was sure he had it under control. She was only moderately surprised as they turned the corner to his quarters, noting that the guards posted didn’t look surprised to see her.

She looked up at him, hoping.

‘I’m coming home with you?’

He smiled at her in the affirmative before escorting her in, waiting patiently as she took her time stepping over the raised hatch, and sat her on his couch. She was surprised when he didn’t move to close the hatch, stepping over to get her a glass of water instead as she settled.

‘There are conditions, Roslin.’

She nodded eagerly, smiling at his use of her last name. It was clearly a command habit. It didn’t matter. He could call her anything he wanted, she would agree to anything he wanted, if it meant she didn’t have to spend her recovery time with Cottle and his team of expert needlers.

‘You will obey all of Doc Cottle’s instructions.’

Fine. Good. Whatever.

She nodded.

‘You will resist the urge to call him names while he treats you. At least out loud.’

Difficult, but she’d manage. She smiled what she hoped was an angelic smile in his direction as she nodded once again.

‘You will stay in my quarters until Cottle clears you, unless you are escorted by one of my people.’

‘I’m sorry, what?’

He smiled wryly.

‘Stubborn. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, or one of the Marines will, but you can’t be left alone until Cottle’s sure the concussion isn’t more serious.’

‘Okay…’

That’ll get old fast.

‘Focus, Roslin. Promise. No wandering around by yourself.’

Sigh.

Worth it, worth it.

‘Promise.’

‘Thank you. You can always get a hold of me when I’m on duty, I’ll either be in the CIC or they’ll page me. Meanwhile, the Marines will be there just in case, or you can close the hatch if you want some privacy. Just make sure you don’t lock it. They have first aid training, and they’ll need to get in in case of emergencies.’

‘Sure.’

Ok, whatever.

Worth it, worth it. So worth it.

She was surprised, though, when he summoned the younger, female marine to stand in front of her. While her colleague remained by the hatch, a second female marine accompanied her into the quarters. 

‘Laura; Corporal Selma Zappa and Specialist Lauren Stone. Corporal, Specialist; Laura Roslin.’

She looked up, confused, as they shook her hand in turn before stepping back and standing at rest.

‘Corporal Zappa and Specialist Stone will be working in shifts as part of my detail. As I said, all marines have first-aid training, but Stone and Zappa have specialized training. I’m going to be with you for the most part, but when I’m not here, they can check for concussion symptoms.’

Bill turned to look at her, the stern look on his face once again.

‘Next condition. You will cooperate with them fully.’

She thought he was over-exaggerating, but…so worth it.

‘Of course.’

He dismissed them, then, and after nodding at Laura they retreated to the corridor. This time the hatch closed behind them.

‘I mean it, Roslin. You will give them your full cooperation. Bitch at them, yell at them if you have to, but give them your full cooperation, and if they say you’re going to Cottle, you don’t argue, you go to Cottle.’

He was completely serious.

This really was going to get old, quick, but if it made him feel better...

She looked him directly in the eye.

‘I promise.’   

 ‘Good.’ He nodded, satisfied, before moving to sit beside her.

Clearly, the hard part of the conversation was over. She was relieved, since she was tired again, and she clearly wasn’t the only one. She could see the strain of sleepless nights on his face. They both needed some rack time. She smiled internally.

Who said I didn’t know military terminology?

Leaning back against the back of the couch, he closed his eyes.

‘I asked the galley to send some food up; you want some more water?’

She was so comfortable she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to move again. She reached behind him for the throw before draping it over them, making sure she had enough to cover her feet as well as she shifted to put them up on the couch, resting them against his thighs.

‘If I get too comfortable, I’m going to fall asleep before the food gets here.’

She smiled at him.

‘Me, too. But I’m sure it will keep.’

He looked at her mock sternly.

‘Be responsible, Roslin. Proper nourishment is important.’

Rising, he rearranged the throw around her as it fell off him. He moved to the drink cart, refilling her water and pouring himself one as well. She made a face at him but drank obediently.

In some ways, having Bill fuss over her was worse than Cottle. She found it harder to argue with him; he didn’t yell, he just wouldn’t go away until she did as ordered. It was ironic. They’d been arguing since the moment they’d met, but she found she couldn’t contradict him. She felt awkward being fussed over but forced herself to ignore it. He was clearly concerned about her, and she knew it had to be a reflection of the shock finding her passed out bleeding on the ground by that stream.

 ‘I spoke to Baltar, told him about the attack, having him send some people to look into it.’

She snorted.

‘I know. So I spoke to Kara, too.’

‘Smart.’

‘That’s why they sent me to Officer’s School.’

He made her laugh with that one.

‘Tomorrow, we’ll have to talk more seriously about what happened, but for now, food and bed.’

‘Sounds like a plan.’

‘We’ll have to get you some clothes, too. You want to dig the stuff out from under my rack?’

‘I’d look pretty ridiculous, wandering around in suits and heels, don’t you think?’

‘I always liked it.’

She tried her best smouldering look on him. She couldn’t hold it, though, and she laughed.

‘I’m sure Maya or Tory can send me up some basics. Or maybe you have some sweats I can borrow?’

‘Speaking of ridiculous. They’d swim on you. Still, maybe Ishtay can dig up something for you…I’ll get you an old t-shirt for you to sleep in for tonight.’

‘I’m sure we can manage. As long as you have somewhere I can crash.’

‘We’ll think of something.’

She was thinking of drifting off again when there was a knock on the hatch. Bill went to answer it, and the smell of noodles filled the room. She suddenly couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. She’d have to be careful, though, remembering again the nausea she'd been experiencing. She grumbled to herself. If she'd know that was a side-effect of being whacked over the head, she would have avoided it, clearly.

She forced herself off the couch and sat down at the small table, taking her water with her, (she was surprisingly thirsty) and ignored him as he gave her a look and she resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him. How was he always read her mind?

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah.’

The noodles were good, although she couldn’t get much down, and after a while, she just moved them around in her plate, trying to extend the dinner, enjoying his company. Soon, though, she couldn’t keep her eyes open all the way, and he was trying unsuccessfully to hide his yawns.

‘Bed-time, Roslin.’

‘Yes, mom.’

A bed did sound pretty good. She’d go to the bathroom, brush her teeth with her finger and get changed…crap. Luckily, he was way ahead of her, and found a clean shirt for her to borrow. She tried not to picture him simply taking off one of the ones he was wearing and dropping it over her head for her to wear. She focused on the present, taking a moment to gather it to her face and take a deep breath. This one was good, clean and soft, even though it smelled of the laundry rather than of him.

Coming out of the bathroom (head!), though, she stood awkwardly, her sleepiness erased by a burst of nerves. The sleeping arrangements were… what exactly? She was fine crashing on the couch, though she’d rather sleep with him in the rack, and in any case, she was completely covered by the t-shirt… They’d slept together before…On the other hand, she might keep him up… Or he might feel uncomfortable with her in his rack… Though he hadn’t made up the couch…

She stood, undecided, until he came over and firmly directed her to his bed. Well, it was large enough, even if it didn’t look very soft. When it was clear, though, that he wasn’t climbing in with her, she stirred enough to protest.

‘I can’t take your bed. I mean,’ she blushed, ‘I thought…there’s plenty of room for both of us, and – ’

‘Relax,’ he said as he tucked her in. ‘I need to check in with Saul again, then I’ll make up the couch. I’ll check in with you in a few hours.’

She tried to get up.

‘I’m not taking your bed. You have to go back on shift, you need your rest.’

‘Sleep, Roslin, Doctor’s orders. I forgot to mention. This is one of the conditions. He’d spring you, as long as you had supervision, and you slept here.’

‘Cottle knows I’m sleeping with you?’ She rushed to finish her thought, ‘okay, that came out wrong…’

‘Cottle knows you’re staying with me. And the rack was one of his conditions. Unless you’d rather go back to Sickbay?’

She was torn. On the one hand, she couldn’t face going back to that place and Cottle’s gentle ministrations. On the other hand, kicking him out of his bed… He must have seen the indecision on her face, as he moved again to tuck her in before she could make up her mind.

‘Rest, Roslin.’

She really should get up, but she was so comfortable, snuggled here. And it smelled so good. Like his cologne, slightly musky with a hint of citrus. Giving up the ghost, she closed her eyes and almost immediately fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Waking, she was confused as he gently shook her.

Where am I again? She looked up at him. Oh right.

‘Do you remember your name?’

What am I, five?

She rolled her eyes at him. ‘Laura.’

‘Good, Laura, do you remember where you are?’

‘I was asleep in your rack,’ she grumbled.

‘Where do you live?’

‘I can’t live here?’ He smiled at her when she sighed, but remained there, as un-moving as a rock. ‘I’m Laura Roslin and I’m a schoolteacher on New Caprica. Can I go back to sleep now?’

‘You really don’t like waking up, do you?’

‘Hate it.’

‘Ok, go back to sleep.’

She grumbled at him as she snuggled back into his pillow.

***

The next time he woke her, she remembered where she was, and she had to resist the urge to pull him into the rack with her. His hair was sleep mussed, and she imagined fixing it with her hands before snuggling into his side. He was always so nice and warm.

‘Laura?’

She must be looking at him funny. ‘Bill?’

‘You remember where you are?’

‘Your bed.’

Did he blush?

‘You remember why you’re here?’

She was waking up a little bit. It wasn’t fun.

‘My head hurts.’

She wanted to go back to sleep. It didn’t hurt in her sleep, and she was having such nice dreams.

‘Right. Do you remember why?’

‘You were coming to meet me. Someone hit me.’

‘That’s right. You can go to sleep now Laura.’

‘Ok.’

***

When she woke on her own, she was confused again. She had heard the buzz of the phone, and even though she knew that she didn’t have to answer it, hadn’t really, for the last six months, she was still hardwired to respond. Opening her eyes, she saw him get up from the couch to answer the phone, throwing on a robe as he did.

‘Adama.’

She watched him for a little bit before he put down the phone and moved as if to head past the rack into the bathroom. Hmm, maybe he’d remember to shave when he was in there. She didn’t mind the mustache, per say, but she did think he looked better without it. She hurriedly closed her eyes and pretended she was still asleep. She liked this, being able to watch him, him not knowing she was awake. It was as if she was gaining a secret glimpse of his life, one she would not ordinarily have seen. She smiled a little bit as he checked on her on his way to the head, tucking the covers slightly more snuggly around her.

She heard him turn on the shower and fell asleep listening to the soothing sound of running water.

***

Being woken by Bill was one thing, by a strange woman something else entirely. Though you’d think she would have gotten used to it, after all that time in a hospital. It was jarring enough that even after Specialist Stone left, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go to sleep.

Heading into the head (!), she took care of her morning routine, such as it was, before hopping into the shower. She was surprised at how much effort it took, this simple act, of showering by herself. Being inherently nosy, she sniffed at the small shampoo and soap bottles she found, not being surprised as his scent hit her nose.

Mmmm.

Another thing she missed, from her old life. Toiletries. Constant access to running water. She’d never been a fan of bubble baths, but long, luxurious showers, with scented body wash and minty shampoo… In a shower not meant for a Battlestar, but instead, in a shower meant for two…

Stop it Laura.

Otherwise, she’d be in here all day.

After convincing herself that she had to get out of the shower, she dried herself off and dressed in the same clothes Bill had delivered last night. She hung up the towel to dry, noting how clean he kept his head, his robe hung neatly on the back of the door. Walking back into the living quarters, she quickly made the rack, knowing that once she sat down, she wasn’t getting back up again.

On the way to the couch, though, she was distracted by the smell of food, and, following her nose, she quickly found a small covered plate, still slightly warm. Oatmeal with a small side of fruit. It was a good thing she liked it; it was one of the few grains New Caprica produced in abundance. Tucking in, she ate more than she likely should, though, mindful of her head, she skipped the coffee, a truly unheard occurrance. 

Though she'd had the best of intentions, it wasn't more than an hour later before she found herself drifting off. The process of waking, showering, dressing and feeding herself had taken more out of her than she could have imagined, and even though she was curled up on the Admiral’s couch with a book which happened to be an old favorite, it wasn’t long before her eyes started to close. No matter what she did, she couldn’t keep them open, and she was so cozy, curled up under the blanket.

Just for a minute, she thought, as she drifted off.