Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Takes place after "Blood on the Scales," spoilers. The Wayfaring May is my invention.

Time For Us

She descended the ladder slowly, the weight of the day catching up with her. She had been running on adrenaline when she had almost fired on Galactica from the Cylon baseship. She would be meeting her security guards and then perhaps a good stiff drink followed by a nap would end her day. What she had not expected to see was him.

He stood in front of her guards, looking maybe a bit weary, but every bit as solid as she remembered him. At first she could only gasp, unsure as to whether or not he was an illusion, another hallucination. Tears of relief and anxiety spilled out in a gasp.

As she removed her glasses, he stepped forward. When he reached her, she could see as much emotion in his eyes as she imagined that she had in hers. Her right had moved up his left arm, to his shoulder, stopping at the side of his face. Her left hand patted his right shoulder, as if to verify that he was as solid as he looked.

A feeling of being weightless with the relief she felt came over her. He was there to wrap her in his arms, as if to catch her. Holding onto each other, they made their way to his quarters, which was quickly becoming their quarters.

After opening the hatch, he walked her over to the couch and both sat down. Neither let go of the other, as if they were holding onto life preservers in a turbulent ocean. Laura spoke first. "I was so scared for you. They told us over the wireless that Colonel Tigh had been killed, and that you had just been executed for treason. And then when I heard your voice, I thought I'd faint from the shock of it all."

Bill kissed the top of her head. "Zarek, Lampkin, and Gaeta were trying to figure out what to do with me when your voice came over on some obscure transmission. I knew then that no matter what happened to me, you'd handle the fleet and stop the mutiny from spreading. The people listen to you."

Laura smirked. "Sometimes I think you have too much confidence in me."

"You're strong, and you've always been a fighter," he told her, standing as he let her go.

She watched him, shaking her head. "If I'm strong, it's because of you."

He smiled as he wandered over to the bottle of Ambrosia, looking for two glasses. "Now you're giving me too much credit."

After pouring the drink into the glasses, he handed hers to her. He was about to rejoin her on the couch as the phone rang. He reached for the receiver with his free hand. "Adama. Alright. Hold on a moment."

Laura raised an eyebrow. "Bill?"

"I've got people to sort out, mutineers," he explained.

"Do you have to go now?" she questioned.

"Not exactly, but I was planning to-" he stopped in mid-sentence, seeing the pleading look in her eyes. "It can wait. We need some time for us," he stated before turning back to the phone. After telling them to give the mutineers six hours, he rejoined her on the couch.

They sipped their drinks in silence for a while before he remembered a book that he had wanted to show her. "I've got something you might like. It's a loaner from Cottle of all people but, I thought you might be interested."

She smirked. "Oh dear. What in the universe could Jack have up his sleeve?"

"Let's find out," Bill remarked.

As he began reading, she shifted her position so that while he had one arm around her, she had pressed herself against his side. "The Wayfaring May, by James Chalet. 'I have always known that the ocean is where I belonged. From the blast of wind that welcomes me to the bow of the ship as we sail on cargo runs, to the seagulls that eat the cook's attempt at sandwiches when I've lost my appetite, the sea is my home. It was good that way, the sea and my living on it. I was content, until she came along. She gave her name as "May," just "May."'

"It's a nice name," Laura commented. Having slipped out of her shoes, she pulled her feet up onto the couch.

Bill smiled at her and continued to read as Laura listened to his warm gravelly voice. "'She joined my crew at the last cargo port, claiming to be the best at keeping inventory. Normally I don't take women aboard my ship; it's rumored to be bad luck. There was something about her though. Whether it was how she faced down the wind when it threatened to knock her slender frame backward,'" he paused as Laura began kissing the side of his neck. It was a distraction, but one he did not mind as he continued reading "or whether it was the meticulous list of inventory that she showed me, something caused me to pause and give her a chance. I learned quickly to watch for her temper. I made the mistake of telling her one day that women don't know how to tie knots. The next morning I woke to find my wrists bound and tied to my hammock post.'"

Laura laughed heartily. "He certainly has his hands full with her. I wonder if she's worth that kind of trouble."

Looking directly into her warm green eyes, he said "Of course she is. Let's just hope he has the patience to see it."

"Either that, or she has other intentions that he's simply not noticing," Laura added.

Bill turned the page and continued reading. "'Somehow in the months that followed, she became as much a part of my life as my ship, and almost just as trusted. I could always count on her honesty, and her observations. From sunrise to sunset-'" his words were cut off by her lips as she moved to kiss him soundly.

He had only managed to put the book down on the coffee table before she ran her hands over his neck and shoulders, kissing him frantically. Desperation, fear, and longing were what she expressed to him without words. Her jacket slipped off easily. She fingered the buttons of his jacket, popping them without excuse until his tanks were open to her. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close enough to feel her heartbeat against his.

They broke for air, resting their foreheads together. "I thought I'd lost you," she whispered.

"I'm right here," he told her as he shrugged his jacket off. Then he cupped her face with one hand, keeping the other hand on her back. "I love you, Laura."

It was the first time that he had actually used the words. She gave him a teary smile before brushing her lips over his again. He began kissing her neck, moving down toward her collar bone and further to the V of her shirt. "This shirt looks good on you. I don't remember seeing it before though. It is new, isn't it?"

She shivered as his hands slipped under her shirt, massaging her back. "In a manner of speaking. It used to be an old turtle-neck sweater that I never wore. When I was jogging, I literally bumped into a woman who is a tailor. I remembered the sweater and asked her about it. I think her improvements are satisfactory."

"More than satisfactory," he mumbled, returning to her neck. "It seems a little… revealing for a president though, don't you think?"

As he brought his eyes back up to meet hers, she giggled. "I didn't intend for anyone to see me in this but you. I didn't have time to change when the world went to Hades for a while."

"I guess I'll have to live with that then," he told her before his lips returned to hers as he kissed her deeply.

The 'hum' sound that he liked slipped from her throat as she divested him of his tanks. She straddled his waist in an attempt to push him down on the couch. "Too bad I don't feel like lighting candles," she remarked.

"Where did you find all those candles?" he asked her, gently removing her wig to kiss her scalp.

"Some were in your bathroom, probably for power outages, some were in the guest quarters I was borrowing, and others I had with me left over from when I was meditating," she told him as he moved to kiss her neck.

"What would you have done if you ran out of candles?" he asked her.

She grinned brightly as a hint of mischief appeared in her eyes. "I'd ask Lee to help me find some. He wouldn't guess what they were for."

Bill's brow furrowed. "What makes you so sure that he wouldn't already know?"

"I'd tell him that I ran out of candles for meditating. He's just naïve enough to believe it," she explained.

He chuckled. "You'd probably be right if he hadn't seen us before your Raptor left."

A warm smile spread over her face. "Bill?"

"Yes?" he encouraged.

"I don't care who knows," she remarked, kissing her way along the scar of his chest until she came to his mouth.

He kissed her passionately and then whispered in her ear, "Why don't we take this somewhere else?" She nodded, moving so that he could sit up. She squealed when he picked her up, causing him to chuckle before setting her down in his rack.

Hours later they conversed again, curled up together, their clothing spread around the room. "We've got a lot of work ahead of us. The whole Quorum is dead," Laura mentioned.

"We'll sort it out later. Lee can help," Bill commented, holding her closer.

She turned to face him, kissing his lips softly. "How much time do you have left?"

He glanced at the clock. "About three hours."

"Good, I think we should try to get some sleep. We both have too much to do not to at least take a nap," she recommended.

Bill smirked. "Yes, Madame President. Of course, Madame President. Anything you say, Madame President."

She laughed. "You, Bill Adama, are incorrigible, but I'm glad."

The two drifted off to sleep, holding each other protectively. Later he would leave her behind to sleep, tucking her in. Later he would preside over the executions. But for now he was taking time for 'them' because when he was with her, nothing else mattered.