She stood back and watched as he embraced Lee, feeling like a weight that had been sitting on her chest had risen up and flown away. A bird set free, circling clear of them. She pressed her fingers against her mouth, trying and failing to control herself as wave upon wave of laughter bubbled up and spilled out. She couldn't stop smiling.

She looked at Bill, knowing her expression was mirrored on his face. He released Lee and moved towards her, his arms sliding around her waist, pulling her close again. She hugged him back as hard as she could, their elation like a blanket enfolding around them, wrapping them closer together.

This was it. This was it. Earth. Together. She was alive and alive encased in Bill's arms, above their new home. She felt his lips brush feather-light against her temple, a whisper that she strained to hear above the cacophony of the crew celebrating "I love you". She felt her face could split in two with the force of her smile. She pulled back to share it with him, the air between them crackling.

Laura pulled back reluctantly, allowing him to address the crew again. "Alright, start organising the landing parties. We'll launch the first Raptors in 30 minutes. Dee, you have CIC." He clasped Lee's shoulder as his son continued cheering with the crew (their family, home), before she found herself being ushered out of command. She had travelled and led with him across the length and breadth of space, following him back to their quarters wouldn't be a problem.

Crew members and civilians celebrated in the halls as they attempt to make their way, every other person stopping to thank or congratulate them. They were jostled into each other, catching each others eyes and grinning even more. He was moved ahead of her by the masses and she pushed to keep close, propriety could frak itself for all she cared in that moment and she reached out and snagged hold of his belt, two fingers slipping between the leather and the cloth of his uniform trousers, pulling herself those scant inches forward as she dragged him back.

He turned his head at her action and laughed. He was younger in that moment. She could see the young pilot he had been, a man free of responsibility, a man burning with fire and she loved him more and more and more. She followed the trail of the belt around, sliding her arm to lie across his lower back, her thumb hooked into the belt loop as fingers drummed on his hip, an upbeat tempo tattoo (a downbeat couldn't exist on this day). His own arm draped across her shoulders and she settled into his side. They received no more than a few surprised reactions from those they passed, mostly the crowd was too caught up in their own joy to notice or register the Admiral and the President wrapped around each other. She wouldn't have cared if the entire press core was walking in front of them.

They arrived at their cabin and he released her to let her walk ahead, closing the hatch behind him. The noise of the rejoicing temporarily shut out, leaving them to the sounds of just each other.

⌠The readings indicated that the temperature on the surface is fairly low, you need a jacket, Cottle will kick both our asses if you catch a cold. Her eyes tracked him as he moved to pull one for each of them from his meagre selection, his gaze continuously flicking back to her. She smiled (and smiled and smiled) at his half-attempt to focus on the task at hand.
⌠Thanks, I don't think even arriving at Earth would get me off the hook with Cottle. The words felt lyrical as they moved passed her lips. A siren's song to his ears as he closed the distance between them.

His hands cupped her face and drew her mouth to his, kissing her deeply. She opened her mouth to his, beckoning his tongue with her own. A hum vibrated through her, resonating in her throat, pulsating through to him as she felt herself walking (or being walked) backwards until she hit the desk. She couldn't think straight, her mind fogged with joy, with desire, with bliss.

She found herself easing up onto the desk and out of her shoes in one fluid motion, never breaking contact with him, hands once again finding his belt, this time aiming for the buckle. His own hands made quick work of her suit jacket and her shirt had already been untucked, several of the buttons freed from their holes. The heel of her right foot stroked his calf, pressing hard to urge him nearer. She slid it up to the back of his knee, hitting it with the right amount of pressure to collapse him further forward onto her.

Their kisses became headier, almost drunken as they tried to get closer closer closer. She let him break away as he trailed his lips down her neck, his tongue laving the delicate skin there. The palms of his hands were on the small of her back, rough skin an intoxicating friction against her own. Earth Earth Earth. They had found Earth. She was a dying (not dead) woman, a leader who had gotten her people to their destination, their new home. She was a woman in love, and not alone in that devotion. Prophesied woman or not, she had never felt more graced than she did in that moment.

The comm buzzed.

"Frak."

A giggle became a full throated laugh which became her body shaking with amusement. She pushed him back gently. Giggling again as he walked with difficulty to the ringing phone, as she hopped off the desk and back into her shoes, reassembling her outfit.

He hung up and faced her. "Raptor's are ready; they're waiting for us down in the hangar"

"Think they'll wait if we explain we were in the middle of something?"

She laughed as he rolled his eyes; the years were melting away from his face by the minute. She was enthralled by it. "If you want to call them back and explain that we were about to frak on my desk..." She watched as he paused, the reality of that statement, the reality of where they where, the reality of how far they had travelled (across space, to each other); the reality of it sink in.. She saw it hit him, and felt it ricochet into herself.

"Bill." His name was a plea, a prayer, an endearment. The space between them nullified as they embraced tightly (home with him in their home above their people's new home). This was joy. This was peace.

They broke away and gathered themselves. She couldn't look at him; if she did she knew she'd weep with happiness, with release, that she'd seek out his skin in search of a different release. They'd never get out of the room. He handed her the jacket, and some boots as well.

"Time to go"

She flicked her eyes towards the desk, quirked an eyebrow at him

"Time later." (and now she believed there would be; time; and later.)

They were home.