Log in

No account? Create an account
25 May 2008 @ 08:17 pm

Title: Bandage Bear Day

Genre: BSG
Pairing: Cottle/Roslin
Spoilers: s1-3
Rated: M
Author’s Note: Because Narciscia Triple Dog Dared me... sorry - no sex!



Everybody was staring. It was impossible not to. Indeed, not staring would have broken the fundamental laws of the universe and ripped a gaping void in the space-time continuum ... or something like that. The truth was, as she stared back at the boggling eyes of the Quorum, tearing a hole in the universe was exactly what she felt like doing if only so that a few of them fell through.


“It’s not funny...” muttered the President crossly, as she snapped a file shut.


The representative for Caprica begged to differ. “I rarely find census statistics humorous,” said Lee carefully, waving a document cluttered with numbers in front of him.


Laura lifted her eyes from the table in a scowl.


“Major Davies,” she nodded at the airman at the door. He nodded back and stepped forward. “Escort the Honourable Representative for Caprica to the airlock.”


“Yes Ma’am.” The officer quickly moved forward and, to the shock of the assembly, took a hold of Lee.


The Quorum gasped, too frightened to speak.


Beside the now disinterested President, Tom Zarek rose to his feet. “Relax,” he said to the Airmen, motioning for him to release the panicked Lee. “Madame President is kidding,” he said calmly, trying to catch her attention for conformation. “Aren’t you Laura?”


There was no reply from the President as she signed a suspicious looking document.




*   *   *


Her arms itched. She tried to ignore it as she walked the corridors that separated Galactica’s bridge from the Infirmary. Laura wanted skin lotion, and she wanted it now. Bonus points if it induced hallucinations of a sexual nature.


“Excuse me,” she said, pushing through a crowd of Viper Pilots that were clogging up the corridor with smoke and noise.


Laura did her best not to take offense at drifting fragments of laughter. She convinced herself that it was irrationally paranoid for her to presume that they were directed at her.


The wolf whistle was something else entirely.


It was loud and drawn out, and ended with a cheeky inflection.


Having just cleared the crowd of people, the President of the Colonies came to a halt. In one, sinister movement, she turned on her heel and scanned the faces of the crowd.


*   *   *


“Roslin...” It was a very stern voice that came from the corridor behind her accompanied by a set of determined footsteps.


Laura’s hand hovered over the Infirmary door’s handle. She screwed her eyes shut in frustration, swearing quietly to herself.


“What?” she said finally, turning around to see the Admiral of the fleet coming to rest just in front of her. His face was flushed and his breath hurried.


“Oh...” he exhaled. Bill’s eyes started at her face then trailed down her body like so many of the others had today. “So it is true,” he said, holding back a chuckle.


“What’s true?” she replied, her eyes narrowing.


“I... nothing.”


They stood in an awkward silence. Laura’s arms started to itch again, as did her temper.


“Sorry,” she said, watching the Admiral count the rivets on ceiling, “is there anything I can help you with?”


“Help me –” holding back the overwhelming need to comment had robbed him of his urgency. Now he remembered. He was annoyed with her. “Yes,” he said sternly. “Care to explain why my brig is full?”


“It’s full?” she sounded surprised. How could it be full? “I think you need a bigger brig.”


“Well, yes... I been trying to get one now since – hold on! Don’t distract me. Why’s my brig full Madame President?”


“You said I could make myself at home whilst I was here...” she replied flatly, as if it were the most natural response.


Admiral Adama took two steps toward her so that she was forced to cross her arms.


“Stop imprisoning people,” he said firmly.


Laura rolled her eyes.


The Admiral sighed, then turned and stomped back down the corridor. Once he was safely out of reach – but still within sight, his inner teenage voice got the better of him. “Nice legs!” he called out, not stopping to find out her reaction.


...which was her ear-tagging him for punishment at a later date.


*   *   *


“How’s my little bandage bear doing today?”


Laura closed the door to the Infirmary behind her and waltzed toward the harshly lit desk in the centre of the room.


“It wants hard drugs and a hot bath,” she replied.


Cottle rattled a bottle of pills, parading it across her eyes like a shiny toy. She reached for it, but he pulled it just out of reach.


“You never answered my question,” he said in a voice that had seen too many cigarettes and war ships.


“Because you know damn well.”


“I may have heard bits and pieces...” he confessed, unscrewing the lid of the bottle.


“Worst frakking week of my life,” she hissed, taking the pills Cottle handed her. She swallowed them without water and closed her eyes, willing her skin to stop itching.


“Now, now,” he said, fussing through his draw in search of the President’s medical file. “It’s not my fault you went and caught the New Caprican Mist.”


Laura scoffed. The New Caprican Mist was a violently red rash that quickly spread across her whole body mercifully excluding her head and neck. It itched painfully whenever she moved or breathed and resulted in her spending the week wrapped in white bandages from shoulder to toe. At the same time, Galactica’s heating system had gone on the blink making it feel like four hundred degrees. In the end she had traded in her slacks and jackets for mini skirts and the only short sleeved top in her possession.


Of course, bandaged legs and arms looked very attractive poking out from her clothes.


“Come on,” said Cottle, finding her file. He used the desk to help lever himself from the chair, giving her a quick wink. “Let’s go unwrap you.”


“Finally!” Laura followed him to one of the hospital beds.


The Doc pulled the flimsy curtain around them and waited why she took her slippers (as her shoes would not fit over the bandages) off. “Right,” he said, “where shall we start?”


“Arms...” she said seriously. “Definitely.”


Laura extended her right arm, flinching as Cottle took it lightly and searched for the silver clip holding the bandage in place. Even though she couldn’t see them, Laura knew that the infirmary was watching them. All of those beady little eyes were keenly aware that if they kept themselves trained on the papery curtain, they might just catch a glimpse of a semi-nude President.


“Could you,” Laura motioned to Cottle, “shift slightly to your left?”


The Doc looked at her curiously, but moved obediently – apparently unaware that he was being used as a human shield.


“It’s not all bad, you know,” he said as un-hitched the clip and gave it to Laura to hold. Next he grasped the end of the bandage and began to unwind it. “This actually reminds me of New Caprica.”


“Well – yeah,” she replied, “considering it’s a disease only found on that vile planet.”


Cottle smiled as the bandage unravelled. “That’s not what I meant,” he said. He continued to say absolutely nothing until Laura’s mouth fell open.


“Oh...” she gasped quietly, realising what he was referring to.


“That time we wrapped that thing around your...”


Laura’s hand raced forward without her permission and latched itself onto his face so that he couldn’t finish his sentence. “You signed various documents preventing you from ever speaking of that.”


The doc frowned, and wriggled out of her grasp. “There was nothing in the fine print saying I couldn’t reminisce over good times on New Caprica.”


“Moving right along!”


“Speaking of which,” said Cottle, as the bandage finally made it to the last layer. “There you go, that looks like your skin.”


Laura felt like the weight of the world was suddenly lifting off her as the chalky white of the bandage gave way to pink flesh. Finally – she would be able to smother that cream all over her horrid rash. Horrid rash...


She examined her arm, watching as Cottle continue to reveal more and more of it.


“But...” she mumbled weakly. “Where is it?”


A sinister smile had ingrained itself across his features. “Where is what, Madame President?”


Laura prodded him sharply. “The rash I’ve been covering with these vile bandages. You said I’d have to wear them for two weeks! It itches!”


“No it doesn’t,” replied Cottle, now finished with her arm. It was a little tender, but completely absent of the Caprican Mist. “The Caprican Mist is a curious disease,” he said, doing exactly the same thing to the second arm. “It likes to mimic its own symptoms long after they have passed.”


Laura watched in disbelief as her second arm appeared as unscathed as the first. “You mean,” she said, still feeling a slight itch, “that I’ve been imagining it?” Cottle nodded slightly. “What were those pills for then?” she scoffed.


“Anti-paranoia and delusion inhibiters.”


“What about the bandages?” she trembled, on the verge of explosion. All those days of torment.


“To stop you from scratching yourself.”


“You – bastard...”


“Aren’t I just – now remove your blouse please.”


*   *   *


From behind the translucent sheet that separated the hospital beds from the rest of the room, it was possible to see the outline of the President, spinning slowly and a piece of material stretching out from her body. People tried not to ogle, they really did. Indeed, they went to such lengths as to create distractions from the show by inviting their friends to join them. Shortly, quite a crowd had formed.


Now, this crowd may have had the best intentions, but after several minutes the only thing that anyone was doing was staring at the curtain in the corner.


*   *   *


“You’re done – I think,” said the Doc as Laura buttoned up her blouse.


“And don’t think I didn’t notice the occasional feel.” Laura let him help her off the bed, snatching the container of pills off him. “Might need these,” she smiled.


“Take care Madame President.”


“Oh, I will. I’ll be taking care of lots of things...”


Laura stepped through the curtain and was greeted by a small crowd of people. All the curtains on the other beds were pulled back and chairs had been assembled, all facing in her direction. The crowd, now realising that they had been caught, suddenly became very interest in their shoes.


“Right,” she mumbled, her slippered feet flopping through the Infirmary and out the door.


Cottle emerged from the curtain a few moments later with a satisfied grin common amongst genius’s the universe over.


“Tourniquet anyone?” he said, unravelling the bandage sinisterly before front of the crowd.


There's Hardly Room For Air: BSG- Castsplodge04 on May 25th, 2008 07:00 am (UTC)
LOL I enjoyed that :D thanks for sharing!
ellymelly: baltarstarellymelly on May 30th, 2008 10:00 am (UTC)
Thank you for reviewing :D !!!
stiletto_freek on May 25th, 2008 07:11 am (UTC)
little bandage bear

LMAO. Thanks for the laugh.
ellymelly: everything they told you is a lieellymelly on May 30th, 2008 10:00 am (UTC)
Thank you for commenting :D
Miss Leah: Mary - Schtupping37_soul_sister on May 25th, 2008 08:47 am (UTC)
LMAO that was fantasticly funny! well done.
ellymelly: may I take your order?ellymelly on May 30th, 2008 10:01 am (UTC)
thank you very much!
LelianaMckay: hot prezlelianamckay on May 25th, 2008 09:01 am (UTC)
OH DEAR!! Where did that come from? (Have you been hiding a secret stach of new caprican weed?)
That was hilarious!!! **ROFL**
ellymelly: the other dreamellymelly on May 30th, 2008 10:02 am (UTC)
...my secret stash of weed is over at survival instinct lol. :D this is tame in comparison!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Deleted comment)
ellymelly: if it is aboutellymelly on May 30th, 2008 10:02 am (UTC)
cRacKF!c forever!
TeaJennilullabymoon on May 25th, 2008 04:51 pm (UTC)
LOL. Awesome, thanks for sharing.
ellymelly: omg evil plan!ellymelly on May 30th, 2008 10:03 am (UTC)
Thank you for the review! :D