A/N: Written for zinke who wished for believable A/R fluff. This might pass as believable, but somehow the fluffy situation became angsty in my hands.

After nearly fifty years in the service, Bill Adama was accustomed to early mornings and getting out of his rack even when he would rather not. But it was becoming more difficult, especially since most of his nights were now spent in a half sleep listening for Laura and then jumping to attention if the medication took over and she wound up in the head after emptying the contents of her stomach. It was not fun, but Laura had long given up trying to discourage his help; he couldn’t bear the thought of her being sick and shivering alone on the floor of his head. He wanted to be there for her. Regardless of what it cost him.

This morning found Bill more sluggish and reluctant to get out of bed than ever before. It had been a rough week for Laura and Jack Cottle had made a personal apology to both of them. As Bill slammed his palm onto the stop of the alarm clock he estimated three, maybe four, hours of sleep from the night before. As a result, he gave himself an extra ten minutes in bed before making his way to the shower.

It was only after he was turning the water off and reaching for a towel that he realized the comforting and familiar smell of Laura’s shampoo was coming from his own hair.

“Damn it,” he swore, glancing at the bottle sitting innocuously on the shelf in the shower which he’d grabbed by mistake and used in his sleepy haze.

There was no time to shower again, so Bill toweled himself off and dressed quickly, grumbling as he went.

“Why was it even in the shower?” he muttered as he laced up his boots, the flowery scent wafting around his head. “It’s not like she even needs it any…”

But he couldn’t finish this thought and choked back the tears that had sprung up. It was going to be even more difficult than usual to keep his mind off Laura, her illness, and all it had taken from her, with her scent following him everywhere he went.

His hope was that no one would notice the scent as he went through his day, or at least that they would refrain from commenting. He should have expected his best friend to dash these hopes.

“Your new shampoo’s a bit fruity, don’t you think?” Saul commented immediately; a smirk plastered across his face.

Bill glared at his friend, but the colonel was enjoying his little joke.

“It’s Laura’s. I grabbed the wrong bottle by mistake this morning,” he grumbled. “And it’s flowers, not fruit.”

Saul laughed, his cackles drawing curious looks from everyone in CIC. Bill muttered a quiet ‘frak you’, which only made the other man laugh harder.

It went on like this for hours. Every so often Saul would pause and sniff the air, then sigh and say something about being reminded of Caprican violets or some other flower and then dissolve into laughter. The rest of the CIC eventually caught one but no one dared say anything, though Bill noticed several of them seemed to be stifling their giggles.

After several hours of this routine, Bill was more than ready to beat the frak out of his friend. Yet Saul’s teasing had an effect that Bill could not deny. The irritation and mild humiliation brought on by Saul’s antics pushed from his mind the darker thoughts about Laura and her beautiful hair that no longer needed the flowery shampoo. It was strange, but seeing her shaven head was less jarring than the wig. The black hair of the wig was unnatural and a cruel juxtaposition to her previous mass of red hair. But thanks to his bastard of a best friend, Bill could only think about how stupid he must seem walking around the ship smelling like lady’s perfume.

He snorted at his own folly, and caught Saul’s eye. His friend smiled sadly and Bill realized with a jolt that Saul knew exactly what he was doing.

Much later in the day, Bill glanced over at his friend and Saul gave a curt nod.

“Colonel Tigh, you have the deck,” Bill announced, but it was merely a formality for the benefit of the crew.

Halfway to life station to join Laura for one of her treatments, Bill stopped and, ignoring the questioning glances of several crewmembers, wondered how she would respond to his gaff with the shampoo. It was her favorite kind, he knew. She had confessed to him shortly after moving in that she had been using tiny amounts every time to make it last long as possible. Bill was afraid that walking in smelling as he did was likely to bring up some unhappy emotions. While there were times when she supported him though the difficulties of her cancer, Bill knew that she was not always as strong as she would have him believe. The loss of her hair had come as a huge blow, and not just to her vanity. It was another in a long line of sacrifices she had made over the years and it was a constant reminder to both of them of all that the cancer, and its treatment, was costing her.

But Laura was expecting him and he hated to miss any of her Diloxin treatments, so Bill squared his shoulders and resumed his journey.

Laura was lying in bed when Bill quietly pulled the curtain aside. Her eyes were closed but Bill could tell from her breathing that she was still awake. He sat in the chair Ishay had brought in just for him and enjoyed the chance to watch her while he could. He knew she was aware of his presence, but he was not offended that she was in no hurry to acknowledge him. Sometimes even opening her eyes was a trial when the medication was at work. But Bill had been sitting there for less than a minute when Laura frowned and opened her eyes.

“Are you wearing my shampoo?” She sounded completely bewildered.

“Well, yes,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“I wasn’t fully awake when I showered this morning,” he explained. “By the time I realized what I’d done it was too late. Saul gave me hell for it all day.”

Laura stared at him for a long moment, her face blank. Bill was worried that the scent had brought up some painful thoughts, but then her eyes lit up and her lips curved into a rich smile, an expression he hadn’t seen on her face in a long while.

“I bet he did,” she replied at last. “It’s not exactly a very masculine scent.”

Bill grinned and Laura returned his smile, then she laughed. He was happy to see her so amused, but the action cost her and she clutched her stomach and grimaced as the nausea washed over her. After a moment she relaxed and smiled softly.

“Well I’m sorry,” she told him, “I’m sure Saul wasn’t very kind.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Bill told her. “But why was it in the shower at all this morning? I thought you had put it under the sink a few weeks ago.”

Laura inhaled sharply and Bill instantly regretted his question.

“It’s silly,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

Bill touched her cheek gently with the tips of his fingers, and after a moment her eyes fluttered open.

“I miss my hair,” she told him. Bill watched as a tear slid from her eye onto the pillow. “I miss the weight of it, the feel of it. And the smell. I opened the bottle during my shower last night just so I could pretend that everything was back to normal. I didn’t mean to leave it there.”

“I miss it too,” he told her, his voice soft.

Laura smiled and sniffed.

“Still, it was a bit drastic to use it yourself, don’t you think?” she asked, her eyes lighting up again as she teased him.

“Perhaps.”

Bill leaned forward and brushed his lips against her cheek. She smiled and held her hand out to him. He accepted it and brushed the back of her knuckles with his thumb.

“I can’t believe you spent the whole day smelling like that,” she muttered, her eyes drooping as the medication pulled her under.

“I think I pulled it off pretty well.”

Laura snorted.

“Just don’t use all of it,” she instructed. “I might need to use it again myself someday.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “It will be right there waiting for it when you need it again.”

Laura fell asleep with a smile on her lips. This expression was mirrored on the face of the man holding her hand to his heart.