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"Unsaid"
"It was worth it just to see you laugh like that," he said as she gently shook her hair away from her face.
She loved to laugh. She missed laughing. She hadnt realized until just then, but she had spent all too much of her recent life without even a smile. Then there was him, and her red dress, and the red wine, and talk of a cabin on the stream's edge. The smile that lingered after her laugh faded slightly on her lips as she thought of that night months ago and her eyes searched his for the memory.
"Bill, that night on New Caprica," she started to say. But he shook his head and took one of her slender hands in both of his. The warmth of them spread throughout her entire body, relaxing her in a way she hadn't know since that night. She remembered resting her head on his chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart, seeing their breaths mingle in the cool, dark air.
"I think about it too", she persisted, wanting to run but not knowing why. "and if you want to talk more about, I'll see you soon."
He let her hand slip through his as she gathered up her papers from the desk and turned for the door. She almost made it, smile still lingering, when he changed his mind and reached out for her again.
The admiral was always decisive on his ship, but when he stepped aboard the Colonial 1, and saw the president's face framed by her auburn hair and what he swore could have been a halo, he hesitated. And she knew it. So when he touched her wrist just as she was stepping over the threshold, her heart stuck in her throat and a wave of heat spread over her again, but this time it wasn't that same comforting warmth of an old friend, but that rush of exhileration and fear. It only took her half a second to compose herself, make her smile grow just a little, and turn around slightly.
"Madame Presedent," the admiral said. "There is somewhat of an urgent matter that has yet been unmentioned."
The flutter of her heart slowed altogether. It was not what she had feared. It was not what she had hoped. Even the glib little smile she always trIed to put on for him failed as she saw the sternness of his eyes. What was it? What hadn't he told her? Was the fleet in danger?
"Admiral, you're scaring me," her voice had become a whisper under his unwavering gaze.
Bill opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words escaped his lips.
Laura put her papers back on the desk where they had been and braced herself.
"Bill?"
"Laura," He finally managed to say. "I did not mean to scare you," the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, though his eyes remained piercing and steady. It's just that whenever you smile - Well, I didn't know what else to say to keep you here."
Her heart began to quicken again and suddenly she felt she could not look him in the eye. That if she did, she would drown in the blue, she would forget to breathe. She wished for that wine again, for that red dress.
"Do I have to say it, Laura? That thing that has gone unsaid?"
She wet her lips and shook her head ever so slightly. She looked up at him again.
"But is it - i mean, could we? Youre the admiral and I'm the president and -" she picked up her papers again just to have something to do.
"And you've always been better than I at seeing the obvious."
She stifled a laugh in spite of herself.
"Stay just a little longer," He said. his eyes searched her face and seemed to say I need to know, I need to hear that you feel the way I do. That I'm not losing my head.
"I do," She said flatly. "Feel the same way you do, I mean. But I've been told never to dip my pen in company ink."
It was his turn to laugh a little. And the sound of it soothed her.
"Come," she said, "let's sit where it feels a little less like a shuttle and a little more like home."
He followed her to the compartment which served as her bed chambers and inhaled. It was a room just like any other with a simple bed and standard issue sheets. There was nothing hanging from the walls, nothing decorative on the small wooden table by the bed, but somehow it still felt welcoming, warm.
Laura switched on the thin floorlamp that hid in the corner and a soft yellow light hid the darkness of the cool metal walls. "I don't know why I brought these in here," she said, gesturing toward the stack of papers that now cluttered the little bedside table.
"If this is a ploy to get me to do your homework for you, you can forget it," he said. She smiled.
"What if I was really really nice to you," she approached him with a slight sway in her hips and a finger twirling a strand of hair.
He just watched her, let her approach him, she was within armsreach and he could smell the rosy fragrance of her hair, but he did not touch. She had to be the one this time. He needed to know.
She touched his shoulder after what seemed like hours, then turned and walked toward the bed. But she did not lay on it, she bent down and sat up against it, letting her head fall back and lay on the mattress. He sat beside her.
"Sitting like this helps me focus," she said.
"What is it that you need to focus on?" He replied, teasing.
She rolled her eyes to look at him, then back at the ceiling, never moving her head.
"Life," She said. "You. Me. I alway used to sit like this as a kid. I never used chairs. Don't know why."
She reached for his hand and laced her fingers between his.
They sat in silence for a while, both staring at the metal ceiling above them. She tuned her head finally and looked at his face, weatherworn and somewhat sad, but still strong. The memories of all those she had loved drifted through her mind, the pain of all of those she had lost settled there like heavy silt.
Without really willing it, she turned toward him and traced the line of his jaw with her fingertips. The light stubble pricked at her, but she did not notice it. She released her grip on his hand that still rested on the floor and brought it up to the other side of his face where she brushed her fingers through the hair above his ear. He closed his eyes and fell into her touch. One hand slid to his neck while the other painted his lips and brushed over them so gently he wasn't sure if he had imagined it.
Laura kept her eyes open as she bent her face towards his and did not close them until she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. She lingered; lips, face, body still. Only the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. She pulled away, just enough to look at him. He opened his eyes, a moist sheen reflecting the soft light of the lamp. They smiled their sad smile.
She removed his glasses and kissed his eyelids then, one then the other, before kissing his mouth again, this time taking his bottom lip in both of hers, just as he had done with his hands and hers before. The soothing warmth swept over her again as he rested his palms just above her hips, not pulling her, but earging her closer just the same.
She sat up on her knees pushing her lips harder into his. Still she did not show urgency or hurry, she did not allow for her tounge to search for his, not yet. Her lips alternately held and were held by his. She kissed the corners of his mouth and he hers. Reluctantly, she lifted her lips away, resting her forehead on his and swallowing down the fear of loss. She shifted her weight to the balls of her feet and pushed herself up to stand in front of him, hair slightly tussled from his caresses.
Without taking her eyes off him, she reached to undo the first button of her suit.
"No," he said standing abruptly, "Don't."
Instead he came to her and she could feel a slight trembling in his fingers as he undid the rest of her buttons. He removed the jacket and reached behind her to drape it over the stack of papers on the table. "There. No more homework," he smiled at her. She kissed him again then leaned her head against his chest. She fit perfectly there in that nook his body made for her. She felt as if she could stay there forever.
She would have, too, had the pressure of his hands on her hips and the swell of him against her belly not stirred within her a desire long forgotten. "It's been a long time for me," she said as she lifted her head from his chest and placed her hands there instead.
"Me too," he admitted, bring his hands up to clasp hers between there two beating hearts.
"Bill," she whispered, "I can't undo your buttons if you hold my hands like that." He smiled bashfully and let his hands fall to his sides, then remembered himself and brought them back to her waist. She ran her fingers against the cold metal of his admiral's pins before trailing down to unbotton the collar of his uniform, then the rest. She got as far as trying to pull his undershirts out from his pants before giggling softly and saying "I forgot about the belt."
"I wasn't going to say anything," his breath tickled her neck as he bent to kiss it while she fumbled with the buckle. She pulled the belt out of it's loops, one by one and laid it over her own jacket, covering it with his.
She wore an old fashion slip under her blouse and skirt, so she felt no shyness stepping out them, feeling his gaze on her, following the curve of her body. He stood in his boxers and socks now, a sight that made her smile broadly and scrunch her face in the suppression of a laugh. He looked down at himself and smiled, too.
Bill sat on the bed and pulled off his socks. His feet were cold on the metal floor. She sat next to him and lightly ran her fingernails up his back, making him shiver. Laura scooted herself backward toward the wall, then laid her body down, resting on her side, her head supported by her hand and elbow. He layed down, mirroring her, looking into her eyes, reaching to brush a strand of hair away from her face and tuck it behind her ear. That same hand wandered down, gliding past the silken ripples of her slip, reaching the end of it and caressing the bare skin of her thigh. She inhaled deeply and rolled so that she lay completely on her back, slowly bending one knee, raising it and leaning it against the wall. Bill's fingers tailed down the inside of her thigh now, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on that singular sensation, but when his fingers reached the elastic of her underwear, it suddenly felt like his fingers where everywhere, like he was everywhere. She wanted him closer, as close as he could be. She opened her eyes, reached for his neck and pulled him towards her. This time she opened her mouth and when his tounge found hers, she let a soft, almost humming sound escape from her lips. She felt his encouragement at this and her insistence heighten.
He leaned over her now and her hands were on his neck, his back, bringing his warmth closer to her. Never in her life had she felt a desire like what she felt now. It did not begin with lust, but with the need to be part of someone else, the yearning to give to him the comfort he gave to her, the feeling of being completed. She ached for him now, her whole body wanted to melt into his and she missed him, his lips on hers, even as they trailed down her neck to her breasts, her belly, her thigh. She arched her neck into the pillow and curled her body, bending her other leg so that he could rest his head there as he kissed her, touched her, gently drew circles in the warmth between her legs.
Bill slid her panties off, returning his head to her thigh once they were past her knees, pulling them away with one hand and reaching up to stroke her breast under her slip with the other. She was quiet, but spoke to him nonetheless. He reached a finger inside her and slid his tounge along the space above it. He maintained a rhythmic motion with his fingers, curling the one inside her as he pushed inward. His tounge acted on it's own, circling at times, licking at others. He kissed and took her into his mouth before lifting his head and allowing his fingers to slide out of her, placing the palm of his hand protectively over the area he had just caressed.
He kissed his way up her belly, sliding the fabric of her slip as he went, past her breasts, her nipples, her neck, earlobes and lips. The eagerness had found her finally and she tugged a little at his hair as he tossed the fabric to the floor, pulling back ever so slightly to look at her.
She did not know how, but without taking his lips from hers he had removed his boxers and was laying astride her, one knee in-between her legs. Laura pushed herself up onto her elbows then up to a full sit, wrapping her legs around his waist, bringing them closer together. She leaned back on one hand and grasped his shoulder with the other, pulling herself up and into him. As she lowered herself slowly, she flinched a little at the initial pain, but gradually opened to him and took him inside her more completely than she had with anyone ever before.
He kissed her neck, she stroked his hair and pressed her lips against his forehead. They moved in perfect unity, rocking to the song of the stars that floated past her window. Her soul soared.
When she reached her moment of release, she wrapped both of her arms around his neck, draping them down his back, clinging to him as her body arched and heat rippled though her. He held her hips and burried his face in her breast when she leaned back into him, almost purring. He came then and she kissed his face, his eyes, his lips, holding him tighter.
She laid back, pulling him down with her, not wanting to let him out of her.
When she awoke later, he still lay with one leg wrapped around her waist, never having pulled away. She closed her eyes and drifted of to sleep again with a smile.