Disclaimer: BSG belongs to Ron Moore. Laura and Bill belong to each other.

This fic is for Christine, for encouraging me so much to keep writing, and also because she said (weeks ago) she could not wait to read my take on The oath.

My heart skips a beat the moment I hear his voice. The wave of relief washing over me head to toes lets me know I had not dared to hope I would see him one last time. I'm leaving. I'm running away from this hell Galactica has turned into. All of our lives are at stake. This ship is my home and I have to get out of here: having to abandon it feels like an exile.

This might be the last time I see Bill alive. Realization hits me hard and makes my stomach churn. Everything spins around, everything feels unreal while I watch him storm in, the traits of his face, that I love so dearly, contracted with tension and anger. I hang on his every move. Those broad arms which I know can hug so tenderly are filled with guns instead. His strides are heavy; his boots draw harsh echoes from the deck. His glare scans the docking bay. He takes a second to greet his crew, his family, whatever is left of it. Or maybe it is just this handful of souls that it has really consisted of from the very beginning. The loyal ones, either humans or cylons, family by blood or by choice. They might be just a few but it is more than enough.

He growls a few orders. He turns around.

He sees me.

His eyes meet mine and I hold my breath. I might be smiling a little, my silent welcome to him, but I can't quite be sure because I'm beyond telling how I really feel. My happiness is overwhelming, my grief is unbearable. And thus I stay frozen in place, split into contradictory forces, my gaze locked with his, awaiting whatever comes next.

I'm here. You're here.

Determination flashes through his eyes and not even one second later he is already walking towards me, everything else forgotten. He only stops an instant to leave the guns on the deck. He climbs the steps of the stairs on top of which I'm standing and he is before me in an eye- blink, right here, within my reach, and I'm still unable to move, and his eyes bore into mine and I want to encourage him to go ahead, whatever you want to do, go ahead, I'll go along with you. I refuse to look anywhere else: I want to drown into those blue oceans. Here and now.

I feel his hands creep up my sides. His grip on my flesh is so tight. Those thick, warm, solid fingers of his wrap around my torso and I see crystal clear what he is about to do. I feel more than hear a soft sound at the back of my throat. I hum with anticipation. In the last instant, a sudden wave of vertigo seems to engulf me.

He pulls me to him with such strength I almost stumble. I fall forward and into him.

There is no better feeling in the whole universe.

Our lips crash.

It takes me a split second to catch up with his actions. I willingly give in a moment after and I realize it was just his absence that kept me paralyzed because I feel so alive now… I have come back to life the moment he has touched me. My hands rise to his cheeks on their own accord and I hold his face, his beloved face, between my palms, and our eyelids have slid shut and we would be too close to see each other anyway but this still does not feel close enough.

Nothing will ever feel close enough.

He drinks from me with urgency; his breath in my mouth is ragged, desperate. I let him in, I let his tongue explore, caress, I will let him take even the last drop of air from my lungs if that's what he needs. I belong to him. I'll give him everything, everything he wants to take from me right now. I revel in the feel of being so his and still so entirely myself, so whole. More than I have ever felt in my life. I never thought this would be possible.

The stunned looks of those around us vaguely register with me and I would like to tell them we don't care, we don't care anymore, but I can't say a word because I am engaged in Bill's lips and I refuse to leave them. I rejoice in the freedom of doing this at last, in front of everyone, the freedom of letting them watch (all of them, friends and enemies, because Baltar is also here and I can't bring myself to care); the freedom of acknowledging this love and making the world come to terms with our passion, the freedom of no longer holding back. It has been years of self-restraint, of sacrificing ourselves entirely for everything and everyone else: now, this belongs to us, it's our right to seize it, to cling to each other and to this love we didn't hope or ask for and yet we found. This is the one thing tying me to life in the whole universe.

And maybe if we stay like this, wrapped in each other, kissing, losing ourselves in one another, we would be able to put an end to the whole thing. It almost feels like the mutineers would have to stop at the sight of us, they would not dare to break this, to force us apart, physically or otherwise, they would not find a crack to sneak death in-between our tangled bodies. If the force of our love does not give them pause, if this cannot stop them, then I don't know what else could, because you can't, you just don't interfere with a love like this. This is bigger than us, bigger than them, vaster than life itself. Let's stay, Bill, let's wrap ourselves in this fragile bubble and wait for them. If the moment comes, I won't let them tear us apart. I won't let them take you away.

Not unless they take me, too.

Whatever they do to you, they will have to do to me.

The moment our lips part I feel him nuzzling my neck. He won't rest and won't let me rest. I tilt my head back and gasp and I'm so willing to let him melt me with his mouth right here, just right here. Bill and I. Nothing else matters. I know the pain will be overwhelming as soon as I pull back: my only survival tactic is to extend this moment indefinitely.

And thus I do, and memories flash across my mind of us making love, of his lips tracing delicate patterns on every inch of my skin, of his passion thrusting inside my body which opens up to him willingly, along with my heart and soul until I can't take it anymore and I fall apart with him inside and all around me, his arms creating a safe harbor for me to let myself go and come undone; memories of his tenderness and all those loving words he whispers to me when we are lost in each other, bodies tangled, rocking slowly, becoming one.

Please, let me hold on to this just one more second before everything goes to wreck.

His chin rests on the crook of my neck at last. I release all the air in my lungs as I feel his arms close around my back. His breath slides beneath my false hair and tickles the skin behind my ear. I pull him to me as tight as I can, my arms wrapped around his shoulders. I can't let him go.

I tell him I have come here so that he doesn't need to worry about me. The irony that I'm safer on a cylon basestar than I would be aboard Galactica hits me like a horrid revelation. My heart clenches. We don't know who to trust anymore. The universe is upside down.

I reassure him. I say to him I know what he has to do. I also know what it will possibly mean for him, for us, but I keep that part to myself. He needs me to encourage him, not to bring his hope down. I'm sure his thoughts are pretty much alike: he has enough with that. Thus I hold his head against my lips and I press a kiss into his hair and I keep whispering to him and I let him cling to me while my eyes, unfocused, remain fixed in a dark, uncertain future.

Bill pulls back a little, just enough to look at me. He scrutinizes my face through misty, pained eyes. The grief in his expression leaves me breathless but I won't betray his gaze. I will look nowhere else but right there, into my home. I'll let him read me, drink me in. Even if it crashes me into pieces.

A sound of hurried steps echoes in the corridor. They are approaching. They are coming for us and it might be the Chief who says something and Bill breaks up our embrace momentarily and spins on his heels. He urges everyone to get ready, to close the inner hatch so as to postpone the inevitable a little longer. He delivers his orders straight and to the point. As soon as he is done speaking, Starbuck's astonished words reach my ears.

"What are you doing, Sir?"

"The Colonel and I are making sure the President's raptor gets out of here safely."

Kara drops her jaw but she knows better than to object. A sad, tender smile spreads in my gut at her innocence. She would like it much better if the Admiral boarded the raptor along with me. It's just now that she figures out this was never in his plans. This has never been an option for Bill, not for a second.

I have known it all along.

He won't give up this ship: he will rather die attempting to take it back from the mutineers' hands. I wouldn't have it any other way. I would never ask or expect otherwise from Bill. This is part of why I love him: he never surrenders. His loyalty knows no boundaries.

He also intends to make me safe and my overloaded mind whispers that I'm going to die soon anyway. He is ready to sacrifice his life for Galactica, an old, tired ship, and for me, an almost dying woman. And I might have little time left but I have never been as determined to live through something as I am to survive this frakking mutiny. I don't care if I have to die the day after it's over but I won't let it be this that tears me apart from life, apart from him. I intend to hold Bill close again, to pull him flush into my arms, skin against skin, to comfort his exhaustion and dry every drop of his grief with my hands and my lips, to let him make me his, body and soul, at least one more time at the other side of this nightmare.

He turns to me. The moment he lays his hands on my waist again I know this is the end. I try and push the thought aside with all the strength I can muster because I do not want to waste one single second missing him already when he is still right here with me but I don't quite succeed. The intensity of his gaze takes my breath away. He is reading me, he is learning me. My voice fails me and I can only hope my eyes convey everything I want him to know. He is trying to tell me something, too. I know what it is, I want to reassure him. I force a faint smile through the pain of goodbye.

"I know." I finally manage.

"No", he rasps. "No, Laura, you don't know. You don't have any frakking idea how much I love you."

I let out a soft moan, a small sound thick with unshed tears. I run my fingers through his hair, my thumbs caress his temples. My lips quiver and I bite them together to keep my chin from trembling. Only his hands keep me grounded, rooted. The desire to feel them right on my skin one last time flashes through my body. I take a deep breath. I inhale his scent. I want as much of him as I can possibly take with me. He is visibly doing the same. The sudden thought that he will carry me with him no matter what happens is so heartwarming, so comforting.

"Yes, Bill, I know. Oh Gods, I love you so much it could kill me."

I feel a lone tear sliding down my cheek. He kisses it right away, brushes it off with his lips. I close my eyes and my face contracts and I hardly manage to keep my self- control.

"It won't kill you, Laura. It's going to be OK." he whispers stroking my cheeks.

I nod and blink. I'm suffocating. I take a shuddering breath and meet his eyes once more. They are shiny, watery. Reading his soul in them was never so easy.

"I love you more than anything, Laura. More than anything."

I sniffle and nod again.

"I'll be with you." I choke the words out.

And then, summoning whatever is left of my willpower to pull myself together, to sound determined and reassuring:

"I'll be safe and I'll get help. We'll see this through. You and I. Again."

His hands tighten their grip on my waist in response. I lay mine on his forearms. I stroke and squeeze his muscles through the rough cloth of his uniform. Pearls of sweat spring to his forehead. His hair has never felt so silky under my fingertips; his wonderful eyes were never bluer, deeper, or more intense. My senses are sharp, my perception heightened. My heart flutters erratically.

"Admiral, Madame President, please."

Baltar's voice seems otherworldly, tinged with hardly contained panic. And it might be his well- developed sense of self- preservation speaking but he is right, for once.

I comply. I cast one last glance at Bill and avert my eyes because otherwise I will never be able to step out the circle of his arms. I try to ignore the fact that he does not seem prepared to let me go. The sole thought fills me with a cold fear. He needs to be ready; I want him to be. Otherwise, this could really be the end.

I start turning around. He tilts his head to the side searching for my face. His hands still linger on my body for a second while I'm already pulling away. My own movement tears me apart: I'm leaving my heart and soul with this man and my body is literally ripping in two. I manage to keep my bearings and I gently pull a little further until Bill's hands finally leave me. The contact is lost: the cold on my skin seeps into my bones instantly.

I'm alone.

I step into the raptor leaning on Baltar's arm for balance. As soon as I'm safely boarded, I turn to Bill again. Under the edge of the door closing down I catch one last glimpse of his face, flooded with grief. It feels like a dark, disturbing dream, like there is a fog clouding reality. He mouths I'll see you soon. I answer him with my eyes. I keep staring back at him all the time until he can no longer see me.

The moment we lose sight of each other, I swallow my knot of sorrow and turn my attention to my heart. It's in there that I need to look for him now. This is where he belongs to. This is where he lives. I'd better start doing this right now, becoming used to it, used to finding him within my chest. Just in case. It might be the only place I can be with him from now on.

I cling to all the emotions of these our last moments together, in each other's arms. I pray he is doing the same.

Just a few seconds have passed. I can still be sure he is alive.

Athena starts pressing buttons. I land back on reality and I focus on getting into action.

Suddenly, the strength of my grief becomes an equally strong determination. It rises within me like a tide, more powerful than ever.

I'll fight. Until my last breath. I won't rest until I see Bill again.

Life without him means nothing.

The engines roar, the outer hatch shuts, the airlock opens. The raptor starts shaking. One moment after, it rises from the floor and rushes out into the space.

We are gone.

Hope you enjoyed it. Thank you so much for reading!