This was just something that opted into my head...if you need a timeline its obviously set in the latter half of season four. I also found the opportunity to write it; my friend offered to take a letter I had written for Mary McDonnell to DragonCon this weekend and this was a thank you to her. This was extremely cathartic for me to write and I think I've found a new pairing to write :)

Disclaimer: This isn't my sandbox, I'm only playing in it...


Laura didn't know when she stopped living and started simply to exist. Each day seemed to become harder and harder to bare; each breath became more labored and each ache more pronounced. The days were becoming longer but her time was growing shorter, she was seeing more of sickbay and less of the ship she had just become accustomed to as her home.

Shifting gingerly, she tried to make her failing body comfortable as possible. The pillows at her back could only compensate for so much; it appeared that her body was at the point of no return. She feared that she would now live with pain for the rest of her days. If she moved too fast the room around her would spin and become unfocussed. Ishtay walked by and helped her to readjust her position and tuck her blanket a little tighter around her slim form. Almost as an after thought she softly tucked Laura's oxygen back into her nose. She sighed heavily s her eyes began to slump.

She missed having the energy to roam the halls and being able to greet the officers as they scrambled to and from their posts. She would nod slightly as they would come to a stop, throwing a respectful salute her way. They were always willing to help if she got turned around in Galactica's halls, which she still did on the rare occasion.

She longed for the days when she was able to climb down the ladder to the hangar deck and hear all of the commotion. She could vividly remember seeing a Viper stripped down to its bones and being built back up again; the Chief's team was a well-oiled machine and always such a pleasure to see in action. She tried not to be intrusive; to stay in the shadows as she observed the busy crew at work, but someone always caught her.

The observation deck always came next and it saddened her to remember that these days it was mostly empty. Everyone was so overwhelmed with trying to survive to stop and just appreciate the vast beauty of space. When her schedule permitted, she could spend what felt like hours staring at the stars and the ships of the fleet that passed in between. It seemed so peaceful out there, for the time being, but Laura knew better. She knew better than anyone that the peace could turn to chaos in an instant and that their very existence could end should the Cylons see fit. It was a dangerous game of cat and mouse; one that the fleet seemed to be growing wary of, resources and morale were running low.

CIC was the activity center of it all, people were constantly moving or issuing orders. This was where she could watch her Admiral in action, where she could study him and his interactions with his crew. They followed his orders almost blindly…respected him to the fullest and in return he cherished them as more than just subordinates, they were his family. He would do anything to ensure their survival and this had been the plain truth that they had bonded over on that wet and gloomy planet. He had come for her and had been willing to forgive her, something that she wasn't quite sure she herself had done. Gods Kobol seemed to be a lifetime ago, just out of Laura's grasp.

She yearned for his quarters. She missed the smell of the paint for his model ship that seemed to hit you as you walked through the door. She missed being able to gaze at his bookshelves and find a completely new book almost every time. The way the leather of the old couch would creak as she settled into the corner, her feet and legs tucked up under her own body. She missed the feel of his plush carpet as she would wiggle her toes in it and giggle at her childishness.

She missed having to pick up his clothes that never seemed to make it to the hamper or the toothbrush that never made it back into the holder. The thrum she could feel of the engines under her feet or the sounds as the metal would shit and adjust. The feel of his well worn robe against her bare skin as she stepped from his shower or the smell of his soap as she dozed in his sheets. All those mornings she had lain in his rack, burrowing into his blankets, trying to keep the real world at bay for just a few more minutes.

But most of all she missed the feeling of his strong arms encompassing her in the night as he tried to chase the permanent cold from her bones. We he would surprise by returning home early and offering to rub her feet as she finished revising her notes from the latest Quorum meeting. She could remember him rubbing calming circles on her back as she emptied the meager contents of her stomach after a rough round of Diloxan. How he would carry her to 'their' rack and lay her down gently, wiping away the sweat that collected on her forehead with a cold rag.

She also remembered times that weren't so happy. A tense discussion of their current situation…how the war had been lost and retreat was the best answer. An argument over which of them should go through with a now obsolete test to see who was the Cylon, that one was fraught with suspicion. Then another incident where a refusal to go back to their former home, now a wasteland, in search of some mythical arrow had caused high tensions. A fight plain and simple, over the fear of being alone and being able to let go, which ended up with sense of deep hurt on each side. He left his quarters clearly distraught and she fell apart as she pulled the first strand of many from her head.

But most recently had been the hardest. They had found Earth, or at least what they thought the planet should have been. Hopes were so high and spirits so alive before they set down on the radioactive soil. She had been broken when she returned to the ship; everything she had believed in and followed had seemed to be a lie. Her scrolls and scriptures she had put so much faith into were nothing more than mere legends. She pulled away from Bill…from everyone really, she couldn't bring herself to face them…to face him and not have the answers they so desperately needed.

A gentle throat clearing caught her attention and made her slowly sluggishly turn her head to face the curtain. She smiled a pained smile as she connected eyes with her Admiral as he shuffled through the curtain. He quietly shut it, all the while a well-worn book clutched to his chest. As he turned back towards her bed, he gave her the wide toothed smile she so rarely saw and it made her breath catch in her throat. His eyes gleamed brightly as he became situated in his chair and reached his hand out to gently grasp her own. His larger palm dwarfed her own and oddly enough, that gave her a sense of protection she hadn't felt with anyone else.

He rubbed his thumb delicately along the back of her hand, almost afraid that the opaque and tender skin would tear. With his free hand he reached up to straighten the cannula delivering her oxygen; it must have slipped from her nose again.

"Ready for the next chapter?" he rasped gently, trailing his thumb over her prominent cheekbones.

She turned her head slightly, nuzzling into the warmth of his hand caressing her skin. The smile she gave him now was one of pure love and adoration, the one she saved just for him. It made her eyes glow a bright green and for just a moment the dark circles underneath looked as if they had disappeared.

Her voice was husky from exhaustion, "Of course."

She settled back on her pillows, getting comfortable once again, as she watched him flip through the pages to find their place. As his voice began to drift to her, his inflections changing as the text permitted, she let the quiet rumble lull her into oblivion. Her dreams filled with memories she would cherish always.