Battlestar Galactica and its characters belong to Ron Moore and Glen Larson. I'm just toying with them.
Commander Adama's admin specialist spread an old-style two-dimensional galactic map on the desk in front of the President. She put on her glasses as the specialist used a cup and a pen holder to weight the edges.
"That's all, Specialist Rosario. You can get back to the SCIF."
"Yes, Sir."
President Roslin looked up. "Thank you, Specialist Rosario," she said with a pleasant smile. She thought it important to make sure every person she came in contact with felt noticed and important in the struggle to survive.
The young specialist straightened and fairly bowed to the President, barely able to contain a grin of pride that she used his name. He turned to leave and ran smack into the wall before navigating through the doorway.
Adama winced at how easily she disarmed his spacemen. At first, he took it as standard meaningless political stroking. After a while, however, he realized Laura Roslin actually cared that much about people. As a commander, he couldn't afford to be so compassionate.
"You've wounded another one of my men," he chided.
Laura smiled up at him as he leaned over the opposite side of her desk, with his fists spread menacingly wide on the map.
"I don't know what you mean. I haven't hurt anyone…yet," she replied to her esteemed adversary.
Adama was enjoying himself now, but he never betrayed himself with a smile. She walked right into his trap to embarrass her while they were alone. "I had two injuries on your account last week and one of them was a valuable pilot." Hook baited, he thought.
"During the deliveries from the merchant ships?" The President had real concern in her voice now and Adama felt a little guilty. Not guilty enough to stop toying with her, though.
"No. When you came over to the Galactica for the inventory briefing."
Laura thought back to the briefing visit but couldn't recall any incidents that would have led to an injury. What had she overlooked?
"When you were coming down the ladder," Adama looked down at the map because he was finding it hard not to grin, "do you remember what you were wearing?"
"Well, no. But I've only got three suits with me, so it must have been one of them."
"It was the black one…with the slit in the back." The Commander paused for effect but he did himself as much harm as he did to Laura. The pause gave him time to recall, in detail, the amount of leg revealed as she stepped down the ladder oblivious to the impact she had on most of the men gathered to greet her, including Adama himself. He was looking right into her eyes now and she seemed to read his thoughts as the awful realization hit her.
She took her glasses off and put her right hand over her eyes as she groaned, "Oh no. I didn't think of that."
"Billy should have told you," Adama offered in seriousness.
"He's too shy," she noted. "And he doesn't know a thing about women," she remarked with a bit of a laugh. "Did someone seriously get injured?" she queried in disbelief. She thought he might be pulling that same leg now.
"Yes. As I said, one of my pilots literally almost bit his tongue in half because he couldn't chew gum and ogle you at the same time."
The president giggled a little and the commander joined her with a rare smile.
"And what was the other injury?" she asked.
Adama hesitated a second. He hadn't foreseen her asking for specifics. Well, he started it. Too late to back out now. Sheepishly, he put his left hand up to his temple and pushed his hair aside where it was hiding a red lump. The President's eyes widened and her heart beat a little faster realizing she'd had some effect on him. "I neglected to see a display screen that was in between me and the view," he admitted.
Laura laughed at him, luxuriating in his admission of guilt and the fact that he found her, or at least her legs, attractive. He was also sharing a secret with her, something new and exciting. "Well, Commander, it seems I'm going to have to find a pair of trousers for whenever I need to board the Galactica."
"I'll work on that for you," but not too hard, he thought silently.
"Right. In the meantime, we need to decide which of these planets warrant probing." The President quickly scanned the map but failed to decipher the coding since it lacked a key. "Are the different colored circles indications of preliminary scans?"
Adama frowned. "Sorry, Madam President. The cartographers left the key off. I'll have them fix it. Yes, some are potential fuel sources, some are water sources, some are food sources, others look like they might have some other raw materials we could use." The commander rounded the desk and rested his hand on the back of her chair. He leaned over the map and pointed to the colored circles around various planets as he explained, "Red is fuel, blue is water, green is food and purple is other raw materials."
The President concluded that she was equally susceptible to sexual distraction. It was hard for her to concentrate on the work at hand when he had one arm around her and his face was so close to hers. She snapped out of it with some difficulty as Adama was pointing to the last planet which was right next to where her hand rested on the map. She noticed he was careful to maneuver around it without touching her hand.
When he finished and drew himself up, however, her jacket sleeve and arm went with him. His cufflink was caught on a loose loop of thread in her sleeve. They were both taken aback for a second, then she determined what was wrong.
"Oh, wait. Don't struggle against it. It'll tear and I'm worthless at sewing."
Adama was at a complete loss. He could wage a successful battle but had no idea how to untangle silk from metal. Laura sensed this and smiled a little. He was at her mercy.
"OK, put your hand back down on the map where it was."
He followed her direction, putting them back in a half embrace. She picked at the snag a bit with her fingernail but was unable to coax the cufflink free.
"Can you unhook the cufflink from the inside of your jacket sleeve?" she asked.
"No. It's sewn on," he replied. "I'll just tear off the cuff link and have someone sew it back on," he offered as he reached for it with his free hand.
"Wait a minute," she said as she put her hand over the wrist of his jacket where it was attached to hers. "Just slip out of your jacket and I'll be able to work it out that way. It'll take a few minutes but it'll save our clothes."
The commander sighed then started fumbling with his buttons with his free hand but he got nowhere. Laura saw the problem. "OK, plan B. Back up from the chair a little and I'll stand." He straightened and she stood up and moved to the side so the chair no longer separated them. She stepped back until they were in a standing spoon. With her right hand she tried to undo the two buttons on her coat so she could get it off. It was more difficult than she thought. Turning her head, she looked up to him. "A little help?" she asked softly, nearly brushing his cheek with her lips.
Adama concentrated on the task to keep his urge to pull her to him in check. He reached around her waist with his right hand, found the opening of her jacket and followed the line down to the bottom of it. By pulling it taught, he enabled her to push the buttons through their holes.
Once she was unfastened, she pulled the right side of the jacket away and he held the sleeve out so she could escape it. She slipped out of the other side leaving him holding the left wrist of her jacket. She draped her jacket over his left arm where it was still attached to his jacket.
The President turned in to him and said, "OK, now you." Both of them studiously avoided noticing their proximity and the absurdity of the situation. Almost imperceptibly, she hesitated before averting her eyes and undoing the first button of his coat at his waist. With her head bowed down to the task, the commander could stare at her unabashed. It would be hard to keep his rising interest in her undetected.
Though a bit more nervous than she would admit to herself, she dared to run her hand along the path from button to button as she undid them instead of hurrying through unfastening his coat. When she arrived at the final button on his collar, her chin was tilted up to him and she was dismayed to see not a single flicker of desire in his eyes. Psychologically, she recoiled from him and quickly pulled his jacket off to the left then walked around him, taking both jackets up in her arms. Purposely, she kept her back to him as she said, "I'll have Billy take care of this and get your coat back to you as soon as possible."
Adama could hear the blood thumping though his veins. He knew she was dismissing him silently but he was unwilling to leave. His mind raced but he couldn't form a plan to get back in her proximity. Logically, he knew she was the President and he couldn't have her. She was off limits to the chief of her military. For the moment, however, his humanity was trumping his sense of duty. He wanted her more than he could remember wanting anything or anyone. This was a part of himself he'd forgotten. In fact, he thought his passion was dead forever.
The President expected him to leave, or at least say something. When he did nothing, she called out to Billy as a means to break the awkward silence. Unusually impatient, she beckoned him again almost immediately.
Alarmed at her urgency, Billy sped up from his desk and barreled into her office. He stopped just inside the door, surprised at the odd site of Commander Adama in his undershirt and the President in a blouse instead of a jacket for an official meeting. Billy looked again at the commander who held his gaze while he stepped up to stand just an inch behind the President, almost possessively. Billy felt somewhat threatened by the commander and was not about to challenge his claim, imagined or real.
Billy changed his focus to the President who looked cross. That wasn't surprising at all. She and the commander rarely got along. "Yes, Madam President?"
She held the jackets out to him. "Please take these to Yara and see if she can separate them without tearing the material. His cufflink is hooked onto my left sleeve."
"Yes, Ma'am." Billy obediently took the jackets from her and scurried out of the room, glad to escape any crossfire.
Perturbed at Adama's lingering presence, Laura turned on her heel to tell him to leave and ran smack into him. He encircled her to keep her steady. She looked up at him, confused for a second, then pushed back from his chest to distance herself from the embarrassment. Looking away from him, she crossed behind her desk and repeated, "I'll get it back to you as soon as possible."
Satisfied with having held her briefly one more time, Adama gathered the strength to leave her. "I'm sorry, Madam President. I'll try to find a way to make it up to you."
Laura crossed her arms over her chest and looked him in the eye with defiance. She willed herself back to her ice princess persona. "Thank you, Commander. That will be all," she dismissed him coolly.
Yet, the commander remained rooted to the spot. Unwittingly, Laura transfixed him just as she was trying to rid herself of him. By crossing her arms under her breasts, she accentuated the bit of cleavage visible between the panels of her wrap blouse.
Before she could follow his eye line, Adama looked back up into her eyes and acknowledged, "Madam President." He turned and left her very confused and frustrated.