More fluff...this is set during Lay Down Your Burdens, Part 1 and is mostly canon, I've even included some dialogue from the show. Enjoy and remember...reviews equal love!

Disclaimer: Ronald D Moore owns it all...sadly enough.

Laura Roslin was doing everything she knew to calm her emotions before the presidential debate, but none of her usual methods of relaxing were doing her any good. She explained to the Admiral how tearing her index cards helped her to prepare, though they weren't helping her much at the moment and he in turn told her about one of his father's pre-trial rituals.

"My father used to break pencils before going into court, and then borrow one from the clerk," Bill told her. "The idea was to break preconceptions, work with what you have."

She was touched by the fact that Bill had shared this memory of his father with her and tilted her head to the side as she considered this symbolic ritual.

"You know, I like that. Let me see…"

Laura found the pencil she had used earlier to write out her notes and snapped it in half, smiling at her work as she dropped the pieces onto the floor to lie alongside the cards.

"That's good," she said happily, then frowned as something occurred to her. "But what happens if the moderator doesn't have a pencil?

"Then you're pretty screwed," Bill informed her seriously, then grinned.

Laura laughed abruptly, then shook her head and bit her lips as more laughter promised to follow.

Bill Adama watched with growing amusement as Laura's nerves got the better of her.

It had started with just that short burst of giggling, but it soon evolved into full-fledged laughter. His quarters were littered with torn index cards and a broken pencil, evidence of her earlier attempts to settle her nerves about the fast approaching presidential debate. Bill sat at his table and enjoyed the sight of her trying to pull herself together. It was lovely to see her laugh, even if the laughter was brought on by nerves.

There was really nothing to be apprehensive about, her opponent and current Vice-President, Gaius Baltar, had little chance of winning against Laura Roslin and everyone knew it, including Baltar.

Her aide, Tory Foster stepped inside long enough to let them know they had a minute before the President had to leave for the debate. As was their custom, Bill offered Laura his arm. She reached out to accept it, still laughing, and clutched at him for support as her body shook. Bill chuckled a bit himself as Laura cleared her throat and straighted herself, biting her lips to keep the giggles inside. Her eyes danced and Bill knew that her giddy mood had hardly faded.

"Try to think of something serious," Bill suggested as they left his quarters, hating to bring her down to reality, but wanting her to be at her best as she faced Baltar and the press.

Laura nodded then giggled again as they passed a pair of pilots, clearly flirting. She snorted and clutched at her chest, trying and failing to keep the laughter inside. Tory was walking ahead of them and turned back at this, frowning at her boss. Bill grinned in spite of himself and couldn't help but laugh a bit as well.

Laura was making a valiant effort to control herself as they neared the debate room, and had almost succeeded, when a raised eyebrow and curious glance at her behavior from a passing Colonel Tigh caused her to double over again and clamp a hand to her mouth. Bill sighed. This was no way for her to begin the debate. He tapped Tory on the shoulder and leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

"The President needs a moment," Tory glared at him, but Bill continued. "I just need a minute to calm her down."

Tory was not pleased to hear this, but she had to agree with the Admiral that the president was in no shape to start the debate and so she nodded to a small meeting room next to the room filled with reporters.

"Go in there," she instructed quietly. "And whatever you do, do it quickly!"

Bill nodded and pulled the still giggling Laura into the room, closing the hatch behind them.

Laura gasped and ran her hands over her face.

"This is awful," she told him, her lips trembling, "I just can't get control of myself."

Bill tried to think of something to say that would help her, but his mind was inconveniently blank. He knew that Tory was outside waiting impatiently and that unless Laura made a swift recovery from her breakdown, she was going to be late.

"Laura," he told her seriously, "take a deep breath and relax."

Laura nodded and inhaled obediently, but Bill could still see the lost and slightly panicked look in her eyes. Telling himself that it was merely for her benefit alone, Bill put a gentle hand on the back of her neck, slowly pulled her face to his and kissed her lips.

The idea was that she would relax and that a quick kiss would take her mind off of her nervousness and uncertainty. At the very least Bill had expected her to push him away and glare at him for doing such a thing, thereby restoring her usual attitude. But he had not expected that she would place her hands on his shoulders and pull him closer or that she would part her lips in invitation for a much deeper and more passionate kiss.

Sooner than either would have liked, the kiss ended and they pulled away, each straightening their clothes. Bill looked at Laura inquiringly, wondering how she would react now that the kiss was over. She smiled at him, her eyes dreamy as she wiped the lipstick from his mouth with her thumb.

"Thank you Admiral," she told him calmly, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Her voice was steady and she was clearly in control once again. "That was just what I needed."

Bill grinned as he followed her out into the hallway where Tory quickly ushered her into the room where Baltar and the press were waiting.

The same here, Madame President, he thought silently. The same here.

The End