She was running. She wasn't sure if she was being chased or not; she was just running.
She was in the forest. Then she was on Galactica, running through the corridors.
There were centurions chasing her. She had to run faster.
.
.
.
She was on Colonial One.
Leoben was there. She didn't sense any danger from him.
"Laura, I have something to tell you," he said in her ear.
Then he was gone.
Commander Adama was there instead.
He was smiling, and his eyes were so blue.
"Laura." Her name sounded like a caress.
His hands cupped her face. He kissed her. It was a chaste kiss, full of tenderness and love. "Never give up hope," he said.
.
.
.
They were naked. In a bed that wasn't her own. His, perhaps.
Adama seemed to be everywhere: His hands and mouth were everywhere on her body. Teasing her nipples, kissing her thighs, rubbing her clit.
She reached down to stroke him. He moaned.
Then she saw the scar running down his chest. She ran her free hand along it. It was so red.
"It's okay, Laura."
.
.
.
He was inside her.
The scar wasn't as red.
It felt so good. She held him to her.
"I love you," she whispered in his ear.
He looked at her, smiling. "It's about time."
.
.
.
She woke with a start. Laura shook her head and blinked a few times, trying to make sense of the images. She looked around. She was in her makeshift cot. Laura remembered drinking ambrosia at dinner. She wouldn't do that anymore; it didn't mix well with Chamalla. Laura hoped she wouldn't be subjected to future dinner parties with the Tighs, in that case.
With that resolve, she smiled a little. Parts of the dream weren't bad. She fell asleep.