Lee staggered through Galactica's corridors, losing his balance often as a result of having imbibed what most would deem too much of the Chief's homemade brew. He himself felt as though he hadn't drunk enough. He'd have liked to have drunk himself into oblivion so as not to remember seeing Kara hanging all over Anders at the crew gathering. He wanted not to remember the insults about his weight that she - and others - had flung at him. And he'd especially like to forget Dee's semi-public ass-chewing, her stinging comments about his behavior and his "fascination" with Kara all the more painful because they were true.

Having been forbidden by his wife from returning tonight to their newly assigned quarters aboard Galactica, Lee trod an uneven path towards the Admiral's quarters, figuring his father wouldn't mind putting him up on the couch for the night. He was forced to stop more than once to catch his breath and take his bearings, blissfully blind to the stares of passersby as he bent at the waist sucking in air, his uniform jacket unbuttoned and hanging open to reveal his protruding belly.

Upon finally reaching the steps leading down to his dad's quarters, Lee leaned heavily into the bulkhead for support as he made the precarious descent to the hatch. He thanked the gods he didn't have to deal with a marine guard - vaguely remembered his father telling him he'd given them the night off, too. He put a hand to the wheel, steadying himself with the other braced on the bulkhead, and spun it slowly. When he heard the door mechanisms click, Lee heaved a grateful sigh and pushed the heavy hatch open.

Once inside the Admiral's living space, Lee closed the hatch behind him as quietly as his condition allowed, a near herculean task as he was suddenly and thoroughly exhausted. He turned slowly in the direction of his father's sectional couch, squinting in the comparative darkness.

'Good,' he thought, 'the Old Man's already turned in for the night.'

As he made his way across the short distance on leaden legs, he fought to extract his uncooperative arms from the sleeves of his jacket. His jubilance at having won the battle with his jacket was short lived, as Lee banged into the solid wood trunk in front of the couch, his shins contacting painfully. He mumbled a slurred curse, threw his uniform tunic to the couch in a fit of pique and began to maneuver unsteadily around the low chest in the dark. As soon as he reached the safety of the leather couch, Lee dropped headlong onto the cushions, boots and all. He closed his eyes against the sudden spinning of the room and was mercifully asleep within seconds.

****************************************

Laura's struggle from the depths of sleep to wakefulness was no doubt made more difficult by the lingering effects of the New Caprican cigarette she and Bill had earlier shared, which had caused their premature slip into slumber in the first place. She thought maybe Bill had stirred, rousing her, but when she lifted her head to look at him, she quickly determined that he was still deeply sleeping. Had she heard something? Laura squinted into the darkness beyond the meager pool of light cast by the upturned reading lamp at the head of Bill's rack, tilted her head to listen for any unfamiliar noise in the cabin. The only sound to reach her ears over Bill's soft snore was the comforting thrum of Galactica's engines.

Satisfied that she'd not been woken by any external provocation, Laura slowly tucked herself back into place at Bill's side. As she settled her head on his shoulder, her thoughts wandered to long nights spent alone in her drafty tent on that wretched planet - sleep there often interrupted by the near constant cacophony of too many people living in too close proximity. It would take time, she supposed, to re-acclimate to the relative quiet a star ship afforded.

Laura, unable now to fall back to sleep, allowed her mind to further wander, to think back on more pleasant memories of New Caprica. The time she'd spent teaching, the freedoms - such as they were - she'd enjoyed as a private citizen, the friendships she'd forged, the long walks she'd taken away from the settlement on those rare days when the weather had cooperated. And of course, every minute she'd spent with Bill during his brief stays planetside. Prior to the occupation, his presence in her life, above all else, made bearable all that was wrong with having been made to settle on that hellhole. And now, after long months of anxious separation, Laura was grateful to be lying again in the warmth of his embrace.

She tipped her head up to indulge in a quick study of Bill's face in repose: features relaxed, lips parted slightly to accommodate long exhalations, lids fluttering with the images of the dreams hidden from her. Smiling, Laura lifted her hand to run a finger over the small white spot on his lower lip, the result of his having burned the soft tissue there in an attempt to coax one last lung-full of smoke from the souvenir she'd smuggled aboard. Laura had just passed what remained of the joint back to him after having taken a long drag herself, warned him of its diminished size and told him to stub it out in the ashtray. Rather than reaching back to the shelf behind his head to put it out, Bill had called her "Bogart" and said there was one last hit to be had. She'd laughed hysterically when the resin-soaked paper had stuck to his mouth, the tiny fireball fell to his chest, and he'd shot up out of the rack issuing a string of profanities, brushing and slapping at his chest in mild panic.

She giggled now, replaying the scene in her head, then sucked in a surprised breath when Bill snatched her hand from his mouth.

"A kiss might help take my mind off the pain," he murmured.

Laura hummed her agreement, shifted her body until she was almost fully on top of him, her face hovering inches from his. She dipped down, brushed her mouth against his with the barest of touches, mindful of the tender blemish. When she made to pull back from him, Bill wrapped his arms around her bare back and pulled her body more tightly to him, flattening her breasts against the hard plane of his chest. He lifted his head from the pillow on which it rested, pressed his mouth to hers more firmly. She happily parted her lips to his probing tongue, deepening the kiss with a low moan. Bill slid a hand up to cup the back of Laura's head, threading his fingers through her still-damp hair to ensure that their mouths remained engaged as he dropped his head back down to the pillow.

They continued their communion of lips, tongues and teeth unhurried, their movements slowed, senses heightened by the residual high they'd earlier achieved. Laura slid her hands under Bill's neck, redistributed her weight, rolled them both until they were laying on their sides facing each other.

Bill broke from her mouth, raked his teeth along the loose skin of her neck, down to nip gently at her shoulder, then kissed his way back up to her hairline.

"See?" he whispered in her ear, "All better."

Laura smiled, tipped her head at an angle to allow him better access to her neck and slid a hand into his thick, silky hair.

"I'm glad to know it's in working order," she teased. "Now put it to good use."

"Yes, ma'am," Bill drawled lazily.

He continued to work his mouth over the smooth column of her exposed neck, sucking and biting until Laura shivered and he felt gooseflesh raise under his hand on her arm. He lifted the hand, palmed her breast, plucked at the taught nipple. When Laura eased onto her back, Bill pushed up onto his elbow for support and drew a wet trail with the tip of his tongue from her neck to the curve of her ample breast. He latched onto her, flicking his warm, wet tongue around her peaked nipple and she arched into the contact with a sharply drawn breath. Bill carefully and completely attended to every centimeter of her firm flesh, licking, sucking and biting. At last, he sucked hard at her as he raised his head, stretching her pliant flesh until she slipped from his mouth, watched as the weight of her breast quivered before settling again into its perfectly rounded form atop her chest. With a little growl, he moved to concentrate his efforts on the other breast.

Having endured his slow, sweet torture with her eyes closed, Laura's lids fluttered open when Bill moved to position himself above her. She spread her legs to make room for him between them and he rested his weight on his forearms, one planted on each side of her. As he settled over her body, Bill dipped his head and Laura watched as he dragged his tongue from the valley between her breasts to her navel. When he pushed his tongue into her navel, swirled it around, she began giggling and squirming.

"Bill!," she squealed, "That tickles!"

Laura instinctively attempted to curl up into a protective position, but Bill held her legs firmly in place with a strong grip to each of her thighs as he continued to lick at her. She laughed while she tried to fight him off, pulled his hair, bucked her hips. He finally relented, looking up at her with a crooked grin, eyes dancing with mischief. She smacked the back of his head playfully, shaking her head at him, unable to contain her own grin on seeing his spirited expression.

"I've missed your laugh, Laura," Bill said quietly, wistfully.

Laura smiled down at him tenderly, reached one hand down to brush the backs of her fingers across the rough skin of his cheek in a delicate caress. With the other hand, she pulled a pillow over to elevate her head so she could continue watching him without straining her neck.

Bill planted an open-mouthed kiss to the soft skin of her flat belly then scooted further down her body, until his feet pressed against the bulkhead at the foot of his rack, his mouth at Laura's center. He swept his tongue through the hot, velvety skin of her folds, up and over her clit several times in quick succession, spreading the wetness of her arousal with his mouth.

Laura closed her eyes, sucked in a long breath at Bill's skillful touch.

"Oh, Billlll," she breathed, his name a sigh.

He grunted in response, smoothed his hands down her silky skin, pressed against the inside of her thighs, encouraging her to open her legs more fully. When she complied with his unspoken request, he pushed first one, then another, finger into the slick heat of her body. Bill positioned his tongue just above her clit, began stroking downward over the hard nub with firm pressure while he thrust his fingers in and out of her, his movements slow and deliberate.

Laura writhed languidly beneath him, circled her hips slowly as she felt an orgasm quickly building.

"Oh gods," she whimpered. "Oh, Bill - ohhhh, gods," she moaned, voice almost plaintive, rolling her head from side to side on the pillow as her legs started to twitch with her approaching orgasm. She balled the sheet into her fists on each side of her body as Bill continued his steadfast assault.

"Oh my gods!" she cried loudly, jerked her hips off the mattress and came. "Oh my gods - Billll, oh gods - oh my gods!" she shouted, the volume and pitch of her voice rising with the crescendo of her release.

Bill kept a steady rhythm, his mouth and hand working leisurely in concert to prolong Laura's pleasure. When she began to quiet, eased back down to the thin mattress, rolling her hips ever more slowly and less erratically, he withdrew his fingers from her. He closed his lips around her swollen clit, sucked hard and sent a tremor through Laura's body, causing her to cry out and arch her back stiffly.

***************************************

Lee's eyes snapped open and he blinked a couple times to bring his surroundings into focus, remembered that he'd passed out on the couch in his dad's quarters. He rolled slowly onto his back, a string of drool stretching from his lip until it broke to puddle on the cushion into which his face has just been pressed. He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, swept his gaze around the darkened living area, wondering what had coaxed him from his drunken sleep. Had he heard something? Lee was quickly able to determine that no call to action had sounded over the PA, as any alert would have been urgently repeated. Though no lamps were lit in the main room, a faint light emanating from the back of the cabin allowed Lee to see that nothing seemed to be amiss. He lay still for a moment, listening intently, heard no sound other than the comforting thrum of Galactica's engines.

Settling back onto the firm leather cushions beneath him, Lee bunched his previously discarded jacket into some semblance of a pillow, relaxed with a deep breath and waited for sleep to reclaim him.

*****************************************

Bill crawled up and off Laura, stretched out on his side with his back to the bulkhead and draped his arm across her ribs. She turned to her side, slid her hand to his chest and kissed him passionately. She hummed at tasting herself on his mouth, licked her rich, earthy essence from his lips before pulling back to look into his eyes.

"You're really good at that," she whispered. "I'd forgotten just how good."

Bill snickered, said "I'd forgotten how loud you are."

Laura slammed her eyes shut, dropped her forehead onto his chin to hide her face from him. He chuckled at her display of embarrassment, brought his hand up to smooth the hair back from her forehead, pulling her back up to face him in the process.

"It's sexy, Laura," he rumbled, kissed her full lips. "I love to hear you enjoying yourself."

She smiled bashfully, lifted her hand to his mouth, plucked at his bottom lip with her index finger.

"Good thing," she whispered, eyes locked onto the mouth which had just pleasured her, "because I can't hold back with you."

Bill kissed the tip of her finger then nuzzled into her neck, wrapped her in a tight embrace.

"Gods, what you do for my ego, Laura."

Laura huffed out a short laugh, kissed his ear, swirled her tongue around its outer edge. She squeezed the muscles of her ass, pushed her hips into his, felt the hardness of his erection through the boxers he still wore. Bill groaned at the contact, rolled his hips and pressed back against her, adjusted his head to suck at her neck.

"Why don't we see if I can make you scream my name," she said, a challenge.

"I'm game," Bill enthused.

Laura pushed him onto his back, sat up and gracefully flung a leg over him to straddle his waist. She grinned wickedly and waggled her eyebrows at his look of mild surprise. She ran her hands down his chest, over the slight paunch of his stomach and back up to tweak his nipples, bent down to take one in her mouth. She mirrored Bill's earlier actions, moved to suck at the other little peak before running her tongue along the length of his scar to swirl around his navel, shifted down to settle between his legs. Laura looked up to see him grinning down at her.

"I'm not ticklish, Laura," he said smugly. "But that does feel good."

"Oh it gets better," she replied confidently.

She wriggled further down his body, stopped to cup her mouth over the bulge in his underwear, warmed him through the thin cotton with a hot breath. Bill, propped up on his elbows, watched as Laura tugged at the elastic waistband, lifted his hips from the mattress, allowing her to slip the boxers down over his ass. She sat up, drew them down and off his legs, tossed them to the deck. She fluidly insinuated herself between his parted legs again, gripped the shaft of his erection and took the tip of him into her mouth.

Bill groaned as Laura's hot, wet tongue flitted around the swollen head of his cock, her hand slowly stroked his length. She dipped her head, quickly swallowed him whole, drew both her hand and mouth from root to tip with calculated slowness. Bill's gaze was focused on the sight of his dick, sliding between Laura's lips, shining in the low light with the moisture her actions created. His head dropped back on his neck and he released a long, labored breath as Laura squeezed him more tightly, began twisting her wrist as she pulled his cock through her fist, increased the suction with which she drew him into her mouth.

His arms gave out as Laura moved her other hand to fondle his balls and Bill collapsed back to the rack. His hands shot down to her head, fingers tangled in her hair. He drove up into her mouth, applied gentle pressure to the back of her head, desperate to speed her pace. Laura resisted, continued working him with slow, deep movements.

"Frak, Laura," he hissed after long moments, "you're driving me crazy."

She finally acquiesced to his urgency , released him from her mouth and began stroking his thick cock firmly and quickly. When she bent her head to suck his balls into her mouth, Bill drew his knees up, let them fall apart to grant her better access. Laura continued moving her clenched hand up and down his rigid length with swift movements, while her lips and tongue worked slowly below in delicious contrast.

Just as Bill closed his eyes in concentration, attempting to ward off ejaculation, Laura raised her head and closed her lips around the head of his cock . She pumped her fist along his shaft, bobbed quickly up and down, noisily sucking just his tip in and out of her mouth. He groaned at the overwhelming sensation of her combined tight grip and suction, felt the tingly beginnings of his impending release.

"Laura," he growled, looked down at her, pulled her hair. "Laura, stop, please - "

In raising her head to look at him, Bill's cock popped free from her mouth. Laura's eyes were hooded, her gaze held surprised confusion.

Bill leaned forward, reached to grab her under her arms, dragged her up his body and reclined again with her atop him.

"I don't wanna come in your mouth, Laura," he panted. "I wanna frak you."

Laura's eyes fell shut and she moaned, pressed down on the hard length of him trapped between their bodies.

"Gods, yes, Bill," she whispered, kissed him ardently, messily, mouth open.

Bill returned her kiss with fervor, grabbed her waist and ground into her, prompting Laura to push up off his chest into a sitting position, her legs on either side of him. She raised to her knees, reached between them and positioned his cock at her entrance. She didn't hesitate in sinking down onto him, gasped at the welcome fullness in taking him into her body.

**************************************

Lee lay on the couch trying desperately to ignore his almost painfully full bladder. He didn't want to have to get up to take a leak but was sure he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep until he relieved himself. With a resigned sigh, he swung his legs off the couch, sat up and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He rose slowly, glad to find that he was neither dizzy nor unsteady on his feet. Eager to return to the blessed state of unconsciousness, he set off in the direction of the head.

As he approached the curve in the bulkhead across from the leather club chairs, Lee heard a rustling from his father's bunk. Fearing he'd woken his dad, he endeavored to move the rest of the distance to the bathroom more quietly. He rounded the bend and stopped short at the sight in front of him, his mouth fell open, eyes widened.

He stared in disbelief at the naked woman sitting astride his prone father. It took his brain a moment to process the fact that the woman was Laura Roslin, that she was riding his father, that they were frakking.

Lee stepped quickly out of the open space, out of view, pressed his back flat against the bulkhead, his heart racing. He closed his eyes, shook his head to clear the impossible image from his mind.

'I'm drunk,' he thought, 'I did not just see that.'

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly when the sound of a long, throaty moan reached his ears. The voice was unmistakably that of the President of the Colonies, huskier, though, than he'd ever heard it.

Lee stood there, molded to the wall, willing his breath to slow, his thoughts to organize. He opened his eyes, scanned the distance he'd come from the living area, weighed the odds that he could retrace his steps and retreat unnoticed. He swung his head back around when the melodic sound of the President's voice washed over him, the dulcet tone of her vocalizations shooting straight to his cock.

Driven by the powerful desire to see a woman, any woman, especially Laura frakkin' Roslin, in the throes of passion, Lee took a step away from the wall, peered around the bend until the President came into his line of sight. Her hair was wild about her shoulders, the russet tresses glowing in the muted light cast down from somewhere above her. From where Lee stood, her pale skin appeared to be iridescent, shimmering with fine beads of perspiration. She had one hand behind her, clutching at the muscled thigh he knew (but didn't dwell on) belonged to his father, her other hand covered the darker one gripping her hip. Her eyes were closed, her brow knit. He watched in rapt attention as her full breasts swayed with the gentle motion of her hips, her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips.

Lee realized he was no longer seeing Laura Roslin, staid President of the Twelve colonies, but Laura, the woman. And he thought she was beautiful in her abandon, sexy as all hell.

Without his having been aware, Lee's hand had traveled down to the front of his pants, stroked his erection through the thick fabric of his uniform. He knew what he was doing wrong - on so many levels - but Lee could not, did not want to, tear himself away from the scene unfolding before him. He blamed his blatant bad behavior on the remaining alcohol in his system, began rubbing at his cock with gusto.

****************************************

Incredibly, Laura felt the distinct stirring of another orgasm. She attributed her body's hyper-sensitivity and eager responsiveness to the drug in her system and the forced, months-long abstinence.

"Bill," she gasped, "Oh, Bill, I'm -"

She suddenly arched her back, threw her head back.

"- coming!" she cried out. "Oh, gods, Bill, I'm coming ... I'm coming...."

She trailed off, hips rising and falling as she rocked above him. Bill tightened his grip on her hips, drove up into her as Laura's body was wracked by the intensity of her release. While she convulsed around him, her head tipped forward, her back bowed and her hands dropped to his chest for support. Her hair fell from her shoulders, framed her face, swung with the continual motion of her body. When she opened her eyes, she found Bill staring at her, raw desire naked in his gaze.

Bill jolted upright, flipping Laura to her back at the foot of his rack. He quickly got to his knees, grabbed her legs behind the knee, pressed them forward until the front of her thighs were brushing her breasts. He groaned when he thrust back into her tight, wet heat.

"Frak me," she moaned, "Frak me .... hard, Bill."

Bill growled, his lips curled back from his teeth. Sweat ran in rivulets down his face, chest, his breath came in harsh gasps as he frakked her. Laura reached around and grabbed her knees, pulled them back further, opened herself wide, planted her feet on his biceps. Bill pounded into her, his movements and tempo becoming erratic in that telltale sign of imminent release.

"Frak," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Laura - oh shit - ah, frak - Laura!"

He flexed his ass, bucked his hips, crashed into her body. He buried himself in her depths, came with a roar. Bill ground into her, his cocked twitched and pulsed as he emptied himself in spurts inside Laura.

****************************************

Lee had almost come in his pants when he'd witnessed Laura's orgasm. He'd had to bite down on his tongue to keep the moan from escaping his throat on seeing her ecstasy. He knew he wouldn't have been heard over her cries, but remained quiet just to be safe. He'd been so engrossed in the erotic tableau that he'd not even been shocked back to reality by the sudden appearance of his father's face. He'd continued to watch as his dad frakked Laura, frakked her hard. He'd had to bite his tongue again, squeeze his cock painfully tight to keep from coming himself.

As he looked on now, his father collapsed atop Laura, she wrapped her arms around his back and he turned his face into her neck. They began murmuring to each other in soothing tones, words Lee couldn't hear but could guess were the tender endearments of contented lovers.

The sudden fear that one or both of them would rise to wash or relieve themselves finally spurred Lee into action. He turned on his heel and quickly and carefully made his way to the hatch at the front of the cabin. He spun the wheel infinitely slowly, sent up a prayer that the hinges would not squeak when he pulled the heavy hatch open. His shoulders drooped and he sighed in relief when he was able to noiselessly crack the door wide enough for him to squeeze through when he sucked in his gut. He tugged the hatch back into place in its frame, waited for the soft click indicating the latch was secure then took off at a rapid pace.

Lee was still buzzed, still hard and still had nowhere to go. He ducked into the officer's head halfway between the Admiral's quarters and sickbay, happy to find the facilities empty. He charged into one of the stalls, pulled the door closed behind him and engaged the lock. He worked the button on his uniform trousers free from its hole, lowered the zipper and pushed his underwear and pants down to his ankles. He knew he was taking a risk in pulling one off here, but he could hardly walk the corridors with a raging hard on. He sat on the toilet seat, took his erection in hand and began stroking himself. He closed his eyes, conjured up the images of a naked Laura Roslin, pictured himself frakking her from behind, imagined her velvety voice calling his name.

He knew he would come quickly and as he envisioned the President's luscious lips wrapped around his cock, he went over the edge with a grunt and a whispered "Laura." He directed his dick down, came into the toilet bowl.

As he waited out the subsequent spasms, as his erection diminished, Lee unrolled some tissue and ripped it along its perforated line. He stood, wiped his hand and dabbed at his dick, tossed the tissue in the toilet and flushed. He pulled up his pants and exited the stall as he fastened them at his thick waist. He crossed the room to wash his hands in one of the stainless steel sinks. The running water triggered his urge to pee and he realized he'd never taken care of that need in his father's head. The need reasserted itself now with a vengeance and Lee pulled his zipper down again as he ran over to a urinal. His thoughts were jumbled as he emptied his bladder: he contemplated his father's relationship with the President, briefly reflected on his feelings towards having seen Kara again, wondered where he might go upon leaving the head.

The guilt and disgust he'd been starting to feel at having perversely intruded on his dad, the stress of the last week, the uncertainty of the future all seemed a bit distant to Lee after having jerked off. He felt momentarily satisfied, relaxed. And exhausted.

He zipped up, left the head and trudged towards sickbay. If he couldn't find an open bed there, he'd happily sleep on the floor.

***************************************

Laura woke to the distant sound of running water. She knew without opening her eyes that Bill was not in bed with her, that he'd risen before her and was in the shower. Recalling their energetic lovemaking of the previous night, she smiled to herself, sighed deeply. She hadn't felt this relaxed in ... gods knew how long. She reached her arms over her head, stretched languidly, winced as sore muscles protested. She opened her eyes and sat up, surprised to see that she'd slept with her head at the foot of Bill's rack. They'd never righted themselves, she realized, after they'd frakked that last time. She smiled to herself again.

When she swung her legs out of bed and stood, Laura hissed in mild discomfort. Her knees were stiff, her thighs were tight and she experienced a dull ache between her legs. She knew she was getting too old for what Bill lovingly called "circus sex," but she didn't care. Her aches and pains would serve as a sweet reminder of their union. She again smiled to herself, retrieved Bill's robe from where she'd left it on one of his leather chairs, shrugged into it and padded into the head.

"Good morning," she called, yawning, as she approached the sink. Bill returned her greeting from behind the shower curtain as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked rough, her hair a mess of tangled curls, eyes puffy from too little sleep, lips swollen, but she didn't care. She laughed at her reflection before moving towards the toilet to relieve herself.

Before exiting the head, Laura pulled back the shower curtain and smiled in at a soapy Bill.

"You comin' in?" he asked.

"No. I just wanted a kiss good morning," she replied.

He chuckled and leaned forward to peck her lightly on the mouth.

"Good morning," he rumbled, grinned as he flung water at her.

The shower curtain fell from her hands as she quickly raised them in an attempt to cover her face. Bill laughed, told her she wouldn't melt, pulled the curtain taught again and moved under the water to rinse off. Laura snaked a hand behind the vinyl curtain, turned the knob from hot to cold and quickly withdrew her arm. As she sprinted from the room, Bill's curses followed her.

While she waited for Bill to finish up in the bathroom, Laura called Tory, asked her assistant to bring her a bag when she shuttled over from Colonial One. She made up Bill's rack employing the military techniques he'd demonstrated on numerous occasions on New Caprica. She poured herself a glass of water from the decanter on his service cart and carried it over to sit on the couch.

Laura set her glass down on the low chest, picked up the disheveled uniform tunic from the middle of the couch and was attempting to shake the wrinkles out of it when Bill exited the head.

"I hope you have another jacket in the closet because this one's seen better days," she said as she turned in his direction.

Laura looked at him, smiled and nodded when she saw that he was wearing what appeared to be a freshly laundered jacket, was just buttoning the collar. Bill furrowed his brow, looked back at her, puzzled.

"The tunic I wore last night is in the hamper," he said. "I took this one from the closet this morning," he continued, walking towards her. "I only have two jackets, Laura."

"Then where did this come from?" she asked, turning the garment in question over in her hands.

"Let me see that," Bill said sharply.

When Laura handed it to him, he flipped it over, fingered the metal at the collar.

"These rank insignia are Commander's pins," he said slowly, his nostrils flaring.

"What? Whose -"

"This is Lee's jacket, Laura," he told her.

"But, it wasn't here when we came in last night, and Lee was wearing his jacket when we saw him on the hangar deck - it doesn't make sense," she said, shaking her head.

Bill sucked in a deep breath, released it and threw the jacket forcefully onto the couch behind Laura.

"It makes sense, Laura, if Lee came in here sometime during the night," he rasped.