As they walked arm and arm from the hangar bay, Bill listened intently as Laura relayed the details of the baseship's successful mission to destroy the Resurrection Hub and her initial meeting with the newly resurrected Three. They followed a Six around corners and down long hallways, one seemingly indistinguishable from the next, two gleaming centurions marching in mechanical synchronicity behind them. When the Cylon woman stopped at a break in one of the oddly lit walls and the toasters maneuvered around them, Bill dropped his arm from Laura's and put a protective hand to her lower back. He moved the other to the grip of his holstered pistol, quickly assessing the tactical situation and calculating the odds should he have to defend against an attack.
Bill turned to look sharply at Laura when she bumped him with her shoulder, knit her brows together and shook her head in silent admonishment of his instinctive reaction. Her lips were just starting to curl up into a reassuring smile when the Six cleared her throat and Bill snapped his head around to face her.
"You can wait here until D'Anna is ready to see you," the statuesque Cylon informed them, nodded to the two centurions who moved noisily into position on either side of the gap. "You won't be disturbed," she promised, "until I come back for you."
Bill bristled at the thought of being held against his will onboard the baseship, but Laura smiled at the Six, thanked her quietly and sincerely. As the blonde Cylon moved gracefully away down the corridor, Laura took Bill's hand and led him through the opening to the chamber beyond. When he stopped short, bewildered by the sight of the ornate bed in the otherwise starkly empty room, Laura released his hand, chuckled and crossed the dark, glossy floor to stand in front of the lighted dais upon which the four poster curiosity sat.
"Can you believe this?" she asked, indicated the bed with a sweep of her hand and smiled wryly at Bill's stupefied state. "And here we've been squeezing into that cramped rack of yours all this time."
"What the hell?" he muttered in confusion and took a few hesitant steps toward Laura. His head swiveled on his neck, keen eyes traveling the width and breadth of the room. Bill decided the space was only slightly less cold and cavernous than other parts of the ship he'd seen due to a few well placed dividing walls - and the incongruous existence of the opulent bed.
When he returned his questioning gaze to Laura's amused face, she reached out and took Bill's hands in hers.
"The Six brought me here the first night we jumped away from Galactica," she said, shrugged a shoulder. "With Captain Agathon and the marines just outside, I was actually able to get some rest - in between crises," she finished ruefully.
At the mention of rest, Bill's conversation with Doc Cottle about the break in Laura's treatments came to mind and he forgot for a moment their surroundings, focused on her.
"How are you feeling?" he asked apprehensively, absently caressed the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb.
"I'm fine, Bill," she said emphatically, smiled at him indulgently and squeezed his fingers in her hands. "Really - I feel ... well, pretty damned good, actually."
Though he knew from Cottle's explanation that Laura was only feeling well because the interruption in her diloxin treatment had allowed the poison in her system to drop to ineffectual levels, Bill had to admit he was glad to see the return of color to her cheeks, the sparkle to her eyes.
"Good," he said softly, returned her smile and withdrew his hands from hers, cradled her face and kissed her chastely. When Bill pulled back, Laura raised her hands and took hold of the thick rubber of his flight suit where it gaped open at his chest.
"So," she said mischievously, tossed her head in the direction of the massive bed and raised her penciled brows at him. "You wanna give it a try?"
She laughed at his expression, at once hopeful and horrified, and stood back, toed out of her shoes and stripped down to her panties and camisole.
"Laura, what are you doing?" Bill asked skeptically, his eyes darting anxiously around the unfamiliar open space.
"Relax, Bill," she soothed as she folded her pants and bloodied shirt into a neat pile, set her clothes on the corner of the platform. "It's okay. We're alone - "
"How can you be sure they're not monitoring us?" he interrupted, continued to scan the alien environment with narrowed eyes.
"I guess I can't be sure," she admitted with a shrug. "But I don't give a frak."
"What?"
"Let 'em watch," she said, stepped up to Bill, pulled the zipper down to his waist and pushed the heavy material off his shoulders.
With a tentative smile, he pulled his arms from the cumbersome flight suit and let the top fall away.
"You're suddenly an exhibitionist?" he asked dubiously as Laura ran her hands over the paunch at his middle, snaked her arms around his waist and pressed a kiss into his neck.
"No," she chuckled in response. "I've just ... missed you. And I'm beyond caring about appearances."
"So you've decided ... you love me... and don't give a damn what anyone thinks?" Bill asked seriously, dropped his hands to her hips and took a half step back, out of her embrace, and pinned her with a questioning look.
"Yes," Laura said easily, sincerely. "Now come on."
She turned on her heel and walked over to the lighted platform, stepped up and began turning down the bed as though it were perfectly natural for her to be doing so in the belly of an enemy ship. Bill watched her climb atop the thick mattress and settle between the luxurious linens, strategically lowering her head to one of the plump pillows. The care Laura exhibited in attempting to ensure her wig wasn't displaced as she reclined forced Bill from the surreal moment, prompted his memory and set him in motion.
He made his way over and onto the platform, grinned and nodded when she lifted the covers and patted the mattress beside her in invitation. Bill reached for the top of his jumpsuit with one hand, dug into an interior pocket with the other and produced Laura's olive green head scarf. His head was bowed, eyes locked on his hands as he fingered the silky fabric which had been his only connection to her over the last long, lonely days.
"You brought my wrap?" she asked with quiet wonder, sat up.
He raised his head and met her gaze almost bashfully, held the piece of cloth out to her.
"It smells like you," he said by way of explanation and Laura nodded slowly, gave him a knowing smile as she stretched to take it from him.
Bill removed his glasses and tucked them into the empty pocket, sat on the edge of the bed with his back to Laura and he began the process of removing his boots and peeling the flight suit down and off. When he was free of the weighty garment, he hung it and his gun belt over the intricately carved headboard where Laura had left her jacket when she'd come to meet his Raptor.
Wearing boxers and tanks, Bill shifted until he was between the sheets and lay on his back, hands beneath his head on the pillow. Laura finished tying her scarf in a knot at the back of her neck and carefully laid aside the wig, turned onto her side and nestled into Bill's solid form. As she rested her head on his shoulder and slid a hand across his barrel chest, he automatically dropped an arm to wrap around her.
"This is ... strange," he said after a moment, the faint whir from the centurion gate-keepers, the arrhythmic pulse of the baseship's engines as foreign to his ears as the pattern of white lights on the ceiling and walls was to his eyes.
"It takes some getting used to," Laura chuckled, tipped her head back to look at Bill's face. "I'm glad you're here," she said earnestly.
"Me, too," he said with a smile, echoing her earlier reply, and leaned in to touch his lips to hers.
Laura put her hand up to the back of his head, held him to her mouth when he made to pull back. She hummed her pleasure when Bill parted his lips at the slide of her tongue and matched her passion in deepening the kiss. She rose to her elbow, twisted at the waist and hovered above him, ran the palm of her hand over the prickly stubble on his cheek as she continued a slow and deliberate assault on his mouth. Bill held her with a hand on her back, pulled the other hand from under his head and reached down to grip her prominent hipbone.
"Make love to me, Bill," Laura panted hotly between wet kisses, brushed the swelling bulge in his boxers as she swung her leg, moved to straddle his waist.
Bill grunted and used Laura's momentum to roll her onto her back until their positions were reversed and he lay at her side. He slipped a hand under the hem of her satiny camisole and with a feathered touch, sought the slightly scratchy lace of her bra. As his fingers closed around the soft mound of her breast and Laura sucked his tongue into her mouth, Bill was unable to sustain concern for the unlikely setting of their tryst.
He broke abruptly from her kiss, hurriedly pushed the slippery undergarment up, pulled the cups of her bra down and bared her creamy breasts to the cool recycled air. Laura knit her hands into Bill's hair, arched into him and gasped as he alternately sucked and bit at each of her nipples. While one taut peak was between his lips, Bill pinched the other with his thumb and forefinger, equally dividing his enthusiastic attention.
"Please..." she whined, writhed beneath him.
At the first roll of Laura's pelvis, Bill reached a hand into her panties, slid a firm finger over the hood covering her clit, continued down to circle her opening.
"You're not ready," he rasped, heavy eyes settling on hers as he gently stroked her soft, dry flesh.
"I'm ready, Bill," Laura breathed, impatiently pushed her underwear down and off. "I want you - gods, I want you to frak me."
"I wanna frak you, too, Laura," he said, his husky voice aroused. He returned his mouth to hers, positioned himself between her spread legs and kicked the covers off. "But you're not ready yet."
Moving quickly down her body, Bill left a trail of hot, wet kisses in his wake until his shoulders forced her smooth thighs further apart. Laura realized his intentions and pushed up on her arms with a start.
"We don't have time for that, Bill," she said with a slightly irritated clip.
Her voice carried a distinct note of frustration - not at him, Bill knew, but at her body's lack of cooperation. Since the onset of her treatment for cancer, their lovemaking had required careful consideration of Laura's slowed physical responses. On Galactica, they were able to indulge in leisurely foreplay and had come to enjoy the intimacy of their concentrated efforts, the heightened pleasure of release that resulted from the gradual and purposeful build up. And when all else failed, at home they had access to synthetic lubricants to speed things along when necessary.
"There's always time for eating pussy," Bill rumbled and flashed her an animated smile before dipping his head to give her clit a cursory pluck with his tongue.
Laura sucked in a tense breath and dropped back to the pillow at the brief contact and he lowered his mouth to the velvety skin of her swollen sex. When he angled his head and aligned his lips with her labia, the absence of hair, something to which Bill had become accustomed but still thrilled at, made his kisses so like those he'd left on her mouth. Laura bent her legs, dropped her knees open and sighed as he lingered, continued to move his lips over hers. He straightened, drew his tongue lightly up and around her clit, elicited a soft moan from her.
When he sucked her gently into his mouth, swirled his tongue around the bundle of nerves, Bill glanced up as he felt Laura shifting. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut and she slowly arched her back, lifted her hands to cup her breasts. She drew her nipples to rigid peaks with her fingertips and he groaned at the sight, flicked her clit with his tongue and dragged a finger through her folds. He pushed into her and was rewarded with a hot rush of moisture as he broke the seal on her lips. Bill began stroking her with first one, then two thick fingers while he worked his mouth over the hard knot of her clit.
"Bill ..." Laura softly cried, circled her hips, pushed against his face and hand.
Bill planted his feet on the footboard, ground his hard-on into the firm mattress and sped the pace with which he licked, sucked and stroked Laura to match her increasingly urgent movements and quiet vocalizations. He gripped her thigh with his free hand and held tightly when she jerked her hips and nearly bucked him off.
"Oh, Bill..." she called quietly, dropped her hands to his head, "Oh my gods, I'm ... coming, oh I'm coming, I'm coming ..." she chanted and Bill released her clit from his mouth, slowed his hand as she clenched around his fingers in orgasm.
"That's it, Laura," he whispered raggedly, his hooded gaze fixed on the point at which his dark hand met her pink flesh, "That's it - there it is, Laura."
As she continued to undulate with the ebbing tide of her climax, Bill grunted at the resulting flood of fluid that pooled between her legs when he withdrew his hand from Laura's body. He got to his knees and freed his achingly hard cock from his boxers, pushed the underwear out of his way with one hand and stroked himself with the other.
"Frak me," she panted desperately when their eyes engaged and they shared a wild, heated look.
Leaning over her, Bill held the bulk of his weight off Laura with a hand pushing into the mattress beside her head. She clapped her hands to the sides of his face, pulled him into a passionate kiss as he rubbed the broad head of his cock along her hot, slick folds. She whimpered when he pushed his tongue into her mouth, his erection into the tight channel of her body. He groaned at the ease with which Laura accepted his thick girth, considerable length.
"You good?" Bill asked on a hitched breath as he pushed up on both arms and rolled his hips until he was buried to his balls inside her.
When she didn't respond, Bill snapped a worried gaze up to Laura's face. Her eyes were closed and her brow furrowed, she held one side of her bottom lip between her teeth and was nodding her head.
"Laura?" he prompted. "Look at me - you okay?"
Her lids fluttered and she made an effort to open her eyes, looked at him and continued nodding .
"Gonna co - I'm gonna c - " she stuttered, broke off on a long, deep sigh as she arched her neck and came again.
Laura radiated pure rapture in the heated throes of her passionate release - the strain slid from her face and her parted lips spread slowly into a beaming smile, a solitary tear fell from her eye and she thrust her arms out, blindly reaching for Bill. She clung to his neck, locked her glittering eyes on his.
Her "I love you," a sublime whisper, made his heart swell on hearing the words escape her lips with such joyous expression. Bill shuddered as Laura quaked around him, a powerful tremor running through her body, and he was suddenly overcome with the emotion of finally being with - of coming home to - her after having spent several anxious days apart from her.
He folded his arms around Laura's back and allowed her to pull him down as she eased back onto the bed. Bill hooked his chin over her shoulder and hugged her tightly, shook with the effort of reining in the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him . She turned her head and pressed a long kiss into his hair, moved her lips to his ear.
"I'm right here, Bill," she whispered, nipped at his neck and squeezed his cock with a flex of the muscled walls still surrounding him.
He reflexively rolled his pelvis at the subtle stimulus and his erection twitched in response. Bill kissed Laura's shoulder, raked his teeth along the thick tendon to suck on the soft skin of her neck then pushed up onto his hands. Her head scarf sat askew, her eyes were shining and her face flushed as she smiled up at him.
"I love you," he rasped, leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers, pushed his tongue out to dance with hers.
They exchanged heated breaths as they shared a long, wet kiss and Bill circled his hips.
"Frak me," Laura said into his mouth, flattened her palms against his chest and pushed him back.
Rising above her again, he began gliding in and out of her with long, deliberate strokes.
"Pull your top up," he ordered gruffly, flicked his eyes down to the camisole that had fallen to cover her chest and belly, grunted as she dutifully exposed her full breasts and caressed them herself.
Bill grabbed Laura's legs behind the knee and flung them over the his arms, jerked his hips and drove into her more forcefully.
"Yes," she moaned, closed her eyes and arched her back.
The mattress had a spring to it that neither his rack nor her cot did, and Bill was quickly caught up in the new sensations he experienced in frakking Laura on a surface that offered some give. He pounded into her with quickening breaths, felt the sweet pressure of approaching orgasm build with every bouncing thrust. He watched his erection, wet with her arousal, run through her opening - the taut skin of his cock sliding through the smooth skin of her plump folds.
"Godsdamn," Bill muttered, dragged his eyes up to Laura's breasts, quivering in the cradle of her hands as he slammed his hips against her determinedly.
He lost his rhythm to the mounting tension in his body, choked back a shout when he jerked violently and came, emptied himself in spurts against Laura's cervix.
As his cock continued to pulse inside her, Bill dropped to his elbows, lay belly to belly with Laura and rested his heavy head on her collar bone. Both their bodies heaved with the effort to draw air into their lungs, their limbs lay limp, their energetic lovemaking having winded and weakened them.
Resisting the tempting pull of post-coital sleep, Bill rallied and rolled off Laura, pulled her onto her side to face him, breaking their intimate connection in the process. He touched his forehead to hers, sighed heavily and gently squeezed her upper arm.
"We've gotta get up and get dressed, Laura," he said, his words tinged with regret. "We can't be laying here half naked when the Cylons come back for us."
Laura huffed her disapproval at the thought of moving from Bill's embrace but did just that, albeit slowly and reluctantly. Chuckling at her reticence, he rolled away from her and swung his legs over the same side of the bed he'd climbed in on. He tugged his shorts up as he stood, retrieved his gun belt from the headboard and laid it out on the mattress. When he'd stepped into the flight suit and pulled it up to his waist, he looked over to check Laura's progress on the opposite side of the bed.
She'd donned the dark wig, appeared to have adjusted her bra and straightened her cami. As Bill snapped his belt into place and tucked in his tanks, Laura used the olive head scarf to wipe between her legs and bent to pull her panties back into place. He put his glasses on and walked the perimeter of the space they occupied as she redressed and wrestled the rumpled bed linens into a semblance of order.
When the Six returned a few minutes later to escort them to the control room for their meeting with D'Anna, she found President Roslin and Admiral Adama sitting an appropriate distance apart on the edge of the bed. At her behest, Laura and Bill rose and followed the Cylon woman out into the corridor, glanced only briefly back at the only real bed in which they'd ever made love.
As they made their way to the heart of the Cylon baseship, the President slid her glasses into place, hung her jacket over her shoulders and straightened her collar. The Admiral tucked the scarf that carried both their scents into his breast pocket and offered her his arm.