Summary: Think Stargate’s Window of Opportunity meets A/R shippers plotting in the gutter after dipping into the Ambrosia and Pencil stash… Don’t ask, just read. :D
Rating: T
Category: Humour, Romance
Characters: None
Genres: Drama, Humour Romance
Wordcount: 585 Read Count: 1300
Chapter One: Promise Me This
“Right,” said Laura rising from her padded enclosure floor. The soft white material surrounded her vision – slowly twisting her sanity to the edges.
The President took a moment to compose herself, sweeping her luscious locks over her shoulder and into place. She quickly slipped into a presidential stance to halt the progression of her unfortunate visitor. Laura raised her hands, her voice hastily, desperately trying to persuade the presence of sanity.
“I’m going to tell you everything that happened to me,” she blurted out, pouncing on the poor soul who was already beginning to realise it was too late for an escape. She stepped closer and continued most seriously, “but you have to promise not to laugh.”
The figure in front of her said nothing.
Laura refused to shift her intense gaze. “The Admiral laughed at me.” Laura waited for the guest to give some indication that they were paying attention. More importantly – that they cared. The individual sensed that this particular human being was unstable and tried to look appalled at what she had said. They even raised their head, opening their mouth as if to say something but Laura, satisfied, didn’t give them the chance.
“He wasn’t the only one mind you,” Laura continued, “so then Dee heard and instantaneously Billy knew – might I add that he’s been giving me a frakking hard time ever since.” She paused momentarily, “What’s infinitely worse is that the good Dr. Cottle eavesdropped on Baltar’s mad ramblings yesterday when he was getting his head checked for – by my count, the nineteenth time. Now the doc just sits there and puffs on his cigarette, smugly saying nothing like you are now. I’d rather he collapse in giggles then take two long draws on that thing, his mouth curled in an amused smile. The only good thing that came out of that insulting visit was watching Baltar get injected with a psychotic by accident all because – well, anyway, all this is making me look more insane then I actually am. Not that I’m saying I’m insane, because I’m not. Really, I’m fine.” She repeated the last bit a few more times.
Laura either didn’t care or didn’t require a response.
“The worst of it is those huddled congregations of flight officers in the corridors – they’re the loudest – most creative people on the planet. As colourful as my story really is, some things just aren’t possible for anyone,” Laura seemed to be temporarily distracted, as if remembering some of the more interesting versions she had heard, saying the next sentence distantly under her breath, “not to mention uncomfortable”.
It might have been just a trick of the light, but Laura felt as if her visitor was backing slowly toward the door. “In any case, as you can imagine I’m a tad hesitant in indulging you with this story but it’s better for me (and certainly you) that you hear it from me, first – and in full.” Before you ask, no the snake/Baltar/wall/airlock thing is most defiantly not true. At least, not to my knowledge.”
Eyes widened – not wanting to think too long about that. Laura pulled the man in a white lab coat into her enclosure, “Please, sit down.”
“No” he protested, “I think I’d rather -”
“You’re sitting.” The man obeyed, sitting cross legged on the padded floor. “This is my story, and it all started when I woke up early yesterday morning…”
She was in bed, the place where the best stories end. Nevertheless, today, ‘bed’ is exactly where Laura’s story begins. And so it is, with this unhealthily early hour and hang-over scary enough to make a Cylon decide that screwing Baltar could be the key to destroying the entire human race, that we embark on this tale of confusion, humiliation, desire and woe. The Universe might even throw in some love to appease the masses – then again, it might just settle for sex. We’ll see.
Actually, it just so happens that you missed the sex by a couple of hours. Better luck next time I guess.
Although Laura was refusing to expose the delicate green in her eyes to the light, she had managed to escape sleep’s comforting hold and was deciding how best to ignore the day. According to the ship’s on board computer, all was well on this new morning. The lights had been raised a few volts to mimic filtered dawn over clichéd mountain ranges, the temperature had been brought up a degree or so from artificial evening and this programmable enclosure had transformed fluidly into a simulation of old reality.
Laura’s sense weren’t interested. She squeezed her eyes shut, burying herself under the warmth of her bedsheets, hiding from the brightness filling the room from all angles. In the same way that early humans cursed the sun gods for their unmerciful beams pulling in the oncoming day, Laura swore and hid. This had all happened before and it would happen again – a warm bed and a day hard to face.
As she became more conscious, a deep grinding set to work within her head. Softly at first. It was little more than a slight dizziness. Soon though, this turning interspersed itself with pounding and before long, every nerve in her skull cavity pulsed angrily. The President swore again, bringing her hands to her head. Of all the mornings she had to pick this one to get herself written off – as if life after the apocalypse wasn’t challenging enough.
The headache got worse until she started making deals with her own body and promises she didn’t have the slightest intention of pursuing. Please she begged, fully aware that she had no-one to blame but herself, not this morning she continued desperately, I have a meeting with the religious core of the Quorum. They want things – I need to be strong and clear minded so that nobody gets hurt. I’ll never drink again – I promise. Laura paused, shaking her head. That last prayer was right up there with, Gods, if you get me out of this, I swear I’ll change.
God – ah, the closest one right now, if you somehow postpone this meeting – I don’t particularly mind how you do it, as long as they don’t turn up, then I will be a much better human. I’ll leave the details up to you, broken bones, shuttle miss-hap, Cylon retrovirus… Just trying to help. Oh, she’d almost forgotten, and I’ll change. I really will.
Laura frowned realising she’d just asked the gods to render humanity’s mortal representatives indisposed. She shrugged, figuring it couldn’t hurt to ask.
Her head thumped.
She held her head and the pain dimmed. Sheer will power she told herself as the nearest deity frowned and vaporized in a huff.
Laura opened her eyes which had now been fully prepped for the bombardment of light. She officially greeted the day with a disapproving moan. Her eyes adjusted and she noticed that it was, in fact, actually rather dark. The clock next to her explained why. Tragic hour or not, she was already running late.
She reached out from under the warm covers to turn on the bedside lamp – this time the warm glow of light was not entirely unwelcome as it poured from between the delicate gold tassels.
Except, there was a problem.
Laura didn’t have a bedside lamp with little gold tassels dangling happily down under any warm glow. Come to think of it – she had had the ambient lighting switched of after a system malfunction that caused her bedroom to be midday all day – everyday. The bird track played on loop and the climate got stuck somewhere between the snow drift of 9815 and the uppermost layers of atmosphere. It was serious chaos.
A small wave of panic stirred deep in the bottommost regions of her sleepy stomach. Nothing to panic about yet… There are plenty of explanations for a new lamp, even if you can’t think of any. Laura lifted a naked arm up to touch the lamp, confirming its connection to reality. Interesting.
Like most humans, when faced with uncertain circumstances, the next best alternative to panic is apathy. So she didn’t have a side lamp. That meant nothing in the great scheme of things. It was more those other little details that had her heart picking up the tempo.
Minor things of course. Things like her arm not being the only part of her body adorned with nothing but the bed sheets.
Bed sheets which, unlike her off-white cotton with a blue trim, were navy with gold edging. As Laura kept telling herself – minor things.
Then of course, there was the light sound of peaceful snoring somewhere next to her. She’d ordered her security detail outside months ago. Billy was protective, but not that protective.
To complete the picture of concern, Colonial One was drifting idly past the window for good measure. Languidly hovering by without care – the steely hull quietly mocking her. Ergo reminded her brain, you’re not on Colonial One.
Laura agreed that perhaps at this point it would have been appropriate to start panicking. There were a good few hours she couldn’t account for last night and the last thing she remembered was downing Ambrosia and reciting some ancient poet inside the Admiral’s -
Frak…
Laura wasn’t so asleep anymore.
Denial tried to lap blissfully for another minute or so before Laura reminded herself that no matter what she found snoring next to her, she was the President and could handle it or have it airlocked. Bravely, she turned over to inspect the sleeping creature whose snoring had tapered off into a content, early morning snooze.
The Admiral indeed.
It was not so much the act of sleeping with him that worried her – more that she couldn’t recall when, where, why or how frakking fantastic it probably was. Laura pondered this for a moment until a professional knock somewhere around the corner brought her back into reality.
“Admiral?” It said, “Bill, the delegates from the Quorum are here to discuss that religious uh – matter. Can I send them in yet? Admiral!” He raised his voice when no response came. “I know you’re in there.”
Locating her clothes proved challenging. They were, to say the least possible, around. Nearly complete, she straightened out her rumpled attire. Her panties were regrettably amiss – a situation she would briskly remedy once back on her ship. But first she had to survive the next half an hour of her life without underwear.
The knocking continued until someone opened the door while she was making use of the Admiral’s bathroom. By the time she felt able to walk out and greet the congregation – she found Bill, fully dressed and sharp looking seated with four members of the Quorum and Colonel Tigh.
They all stared at her as she emerged from deep within the Admiral’s quarters. Her appearance, no matter how long she worked at it, a dead give away. Thankfully, no-one said anything. Tigh couldn’t… His mouth was firmly locked into place somewhere on the table in shock.
Bill was the only one thinking fast, already on his feet. “Welcome Madame President.” His smile was honest – it got that way when he was about to lie convincingly.
Wish you’d finished the story, it’s very nice!=)