So...just a little something that came to me a few weeks ago. Slightly fluffy with a few naughty thoughts from Laura thrown in. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: It all belongs to RDM...
When Bill Adama entered the President's office, he found her sitting behind her desk, fumbling with a button, a sewing needle, and one of her black blazers. Laura Roslin glanced up as he walked in and gave him a fleeting smile in greeting, but then gave a tiny yelp as she poked herself with the needle.
"Frakking needles," she muttered, shoving the blazer and sewing supplies away from her and glowering as she inspected her injured finger.
Bill chuckled.
"Having troubles, Madam President?"
She scowled, but indicated that he should have a seat as she replied.
"Why yes, actually, Admiral. I can't seem to master the simple task of sewing one of the buttons back on my suit jacket. I would have had Tory take it away and have it fixed, but she's been in such a funk lately I was afraid to ask and thought I'd try to do it myself."
Bill considered her over the tops of his glasses.
"You mean to say that you don't know how to sew on a button?"
"And you do?"
"Of course."
Laura stared at him.
"You do?"
Bill grinned.
"It's pretty much mandatory for military personnel to learn the basics of handling a needle and thread, for the upkeep of their uniforms."
Laura sniffed and crossed her arms.
"Well then, since you are all knowing and talented," she told him in a lofty voice, "you can fix my jacket while we have our meeting."
Bill laughed softly, but accepted the crumpled blazer and the tiny sewing kit she handed him.
As the two began to discuss fleet matters, Bill patiently undid Laura's messy attempts at repairing her own jacket and rethreaded the needle before slowly reattaching the little black button to the cloth. Though his hands were busy and his eyes focused on his task, Bill managed to keep up his side of the discussion.
Laura was not so focused. She found herself staring at his large, strong hands as they gently held the fabric of her jacket and managed to control the needle as well as the tiny button. She had to force her mind back to the topic of conversation time and again as her thoughts drifted towards Bill's hands and how they might treat others things; if he would be as focused and patient with other tasks, tasks her rational mind told her a Colonial President should never have been considering in regards to her military commander.
Finally, Bill noticed that Laura had yet to respond to his question about her last meeting with the quorum and glanced up to find her staring at his hands as they worked.
"It's not that difficult you know," he told her.
Laura's head jerked up and as her eyes met his, Bill thought he saw a blush rise to her cheeks.
"Ah, well," she said ruefully, holding up her hands as if to declare how worthless they were, "I just never learned."
"I didn't learn until I joined the military. But every part of a soldier's uniform is important," Bill told her. "Where would he be if his buttons weren't sewn on properly?"
"With his pants down in CIC?" Laura suggested.
A pause followed and then they both burst out laughing. While they laughed, Laura tried her damndest to keep her mind away from the thought of Bill's pants. Or Bill with his pants down. Especially in CIC. Kinky as that might be.
"So, how was the quorum yesterday?" Bill asked, bringing them back to their previous conversation. "Was the Geminese representative still causing trouble over the subject of supplies?"
Laura threw herself into the topic of the Quorum of Twelve with far more zeal than it deserved; the alternative was to gaze at the admiral's hands, which she noticed had finished their work yet still held her jacket. She tried not to imagine the areas of the jacket he had touched as he repaired it; lucky shirt to have been touched by Bill Adama in places that she herself had never been.
All matters of business concerning the fleet dealt with, Bill declared, not without some regret, that he needed to return to the Galactica. He had a battlestar to run after all. As he rose to leave he looked down at the black jacket in his hands and smiled softly as he looked back up at Laura and silently returned the garment.
"Thanks Bill," she told him softly.
"It was my pleasure, Laura," he replied, the gravely quality of his voice increased by the soft tone he used as he smiled at her.
A few seconds passed in silence as they smiled at one another and then he nodded a farewell and turned to go.
As he left, Laura decided that she should find a few more buttons that needed to be sewn back on. Even if she had to tear them off. And if the buttons happened to belong to Bill's uniform, she reflected, that really wouldn't be such a terrible thing at all.
