She made him keep that medal on all day, even now, curled up together in his rack, he was completely naked except for the shinny brass trinket around his neck. She told him that it was part of his penance he in turn gave her a look, one she couldn't quite decipher. Personally the medal felt cool and welcoming against her breasts as they made love, but she couldn't tell whether wearing it irritated him or aroused him, honestly she thought it was a combination of the two.
Her head was on his chest, currently playing with the medal; his hand was running through her hair. They weren't much for small talk; they never were, even when they were intimate. Some how silences with Bill Adama didn't seem like silences at all, they were more like time, quiet moments of reflection, even relaxation, before the crushing weight of duty and honour pulled them apart again. She cherished those moments, still though, she knew something needed to be said. She could tell by the tension in his body where his thoughts were drifting, that subject could be left well enough alone, at least for the time being.
She stretched against him, smiling at his moan, and snuggled up against his side, "Did you notice I redecorated my office?" she asked.
He didn't even attempt to open his eyes or give her some lie about how he liked what she had done with the place. She always knew when he was lying, which irked him because he couldn't always tell with her. "I had other things on my mind." He replied, murmuring into her hair. Gods he loved her hair.
She reached up and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, more out of impulse than anything else, she rarely got to kiss him these days, or much of anything even though they spent more time together now that the fleet was whole again. The burden of command always seemed to get in the way. Today she had told him flat out that she was to have his undivided attention after the ceremony, rationally she explained to him that the medal came with certain obligations that he needed to fulfill. The look she received from him, told her that Bill Adama knew exactly what was in store for him.
"Did you know that Baltar commissioned a painting of himself in all his presidential glory?"
A smiled graced Bill's lips, "Spread eagle on a bed with any number of blonde women?" he guessed, it couldn't be too far from the truth.
He felt Laura shudder against him, "I didn't need that mental image." He chuckled at her until she continued, "No, this painting was of him in his charcoal suit, giving the world his patented deer in the headlights look."
"And where did you put this historical piece of art? Out the air lock perhaps?"
Laura grinned, "It has a special place of honour on Colonial One."
He poked her slightly, waiting for the answer, "Tell me, Laura. For the life of me I can't think of any place that is befitting of that man and his farce of a presidency."
She shifted her position again, sitting up on her elbow so she was able to look him in the eye, "Like I said, Baltar's portrait holds a special place of honour," she paused for dramatic effect, "in the head, right above the toilet."
She felt as much as heard Bill's rumble of laughter, coming from deep in his chest. "Sometimes Laura, I think you're a little too much to handle."
She shook her head at him, smiling, "Oh I don't know, I think you do a pretty good job." His hands moved up her spine, thumbs reaching to softly caress the sides of her breasts. "Medal worthy, even."
He frowned at her, sliding the medal off, he placed it around her own neck. Her fingers toyed with it again, eyebrow arching, "This gift is non-refundable Bill. It made the people happy and gave them something else to focus on today then their own lives. Besides at least some good things have come out of the destruction of the twelve colonies."
He admired the medal, it looked better on her he decided, although he realized that his opinion was probably clouded by the lovely pair of breasts that the medal was snuggling between. "Name one." He answered.
She smiled, hand running through his chest hair. "I'll give you three. In a round about way it saved my life, if the Cylons had never attacked and Captain Agathon had never fallen in love with a Cylon, their child's blood would never have been available to cure my cancer. " he had to admit she had a point there, "Your relationship with your son is better than you ever dreamed of having and you still have a devoted daughter in Kara Thrace, whether you're willing to admit in or not."
He nodded; he had been too hard on Kara. After his conversation with her and Saul he had felt so guilty he ended up on Colonial One, speaking with the President about "pressing matters". In reality he just needed someone to talk to, who would actually listen and give him the right advice not some platitude about how he would make the right move simply because he was Admiral Adama. At least Starbuck was mostly back to her old self these days, although he was afraid of the answer he would receive if he asked her 'What do you hear?'.
"And the third?"
She smiled wistfully, "We're going to be reunited with the fabled thirteenth colony."
He sighed, cupping her cheek, "You know that—"
"—the Cylons could wipe us out before we get there and we may never find Earth at all. I do know these things, I'm conscious of them. But I also have faith in this fleet," she looked directly into his eyes, "I have faith in you Bill. No matter your past mistakes, I know that you will guide us on our journey until we've reached our final destination, our new home. The Cylons will pursue us, chip away at our forces and slow us down. But we'll make it Bill, I believe it, you just have to have a little faith."
He kissed her thoroughly, he wasn't sure that he had any faith left in him, maybe she had enough for both of them. He closed his eyes, cuddling her close as he pulled the blanket over them. "Well when we get there, I want to have a cabin by a lake." He announced.
She chuckled; she could picture him sitting on a dock fishing, wearing one of those gods awful hats with all the flies and bait hanging off them. She liked the idea though; the two of them spending their weekends snuggled under a warm blanket in front of a fire. "What about you?" he asked.
She smiled, she already knew her answer, this was a game she often played with her assistant Tory, when she was having a miserable day. "I'm going to have the largest bathtub on the planet in my bathroom." She replied.
He laughed, hard, much harder than she expected. She pulled away from him enough to look him in the eye, "Why is that so funny?"
He wiped a tear from his eye, "I had this very absurd mental image of the two of us in a bubble bath filled with little boats and you with this triumphant look on your face as you told me, 'I sunk your battleship!'"
She laughed and he joined in. "Obviously you need your beauty sleep Bill, your mind is going."
He kissed her forehead, flicking off the light above his rack, "It's a good thing I have you with me then."
She smiled against his neck as she drifted off to sleep, "Bill Adama, always the charmer."
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