Stuck in Lodi

***

Laura Roslin is feeling very loose and very comfortable. It's probably the first time she can claim said feelings (consistently) in almost two years.

She's attributing most of it to the liquor and drugs.

She snorts into her cup, choking a little at inhaling her alcohol down the wrong tube. A warm, masculine hand whacks her several times on the back as she coughs it out or up or whatever.

"You okay?"

She giggles, still coughing and it comes out as a snort. "You know, before all this happened, I never ever touched drugs. Or alcohol, really. Maybe a glass or two of wine with friends or at a party. Now, look at me. Smoking and drinking like a fish."

Bill gave her a puzzled look. She had to bite her tongue to keep from giggling again. It was probably the the weed, but gods did he look adorable with that face. Mustache and all.

"Do fish drink? I thought they just sort of..." He waved his mug, gesticulating something vague before taking another big swallow. "I don't know, filtrate water over their gills to extract oxygen?"

She thought about that. "Why do you care?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. It just seems a weird thing to say."

"I'm baring a deep part of my soul to you about how I've become a junkie and an alcholic and you want to talk about fish?" That got an eyebrow. Admittedly, she was yanking his chain, but she hadn't been able to do that in person in weeks, so she was totally overdue.

Plus, it had the bonus of keeping that terribly cute befuddled look on his face.

"You're not a junkie." Oh, hells, now he looked earnest. "You're just... relaxing after a very stressful period in your life. We're all doing that. Taking stock, trying to live-"

"Bill, if you try and give me one of your terrible, long-winded motivational speeches, I'm not having sex with you."

"You're not an alcoholic and a drug addict, you're a drunk who likes to get high."

She grinned and leaned into him happily, her world only a little bit sparkly and yellow at the edges. "Smart man," she murmered. "Smart man."

-fin-

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