Written for the prompt of 'Bill and Laura's first night co-habitating end of S3 and the things that are said in the night'.

Title: Open Wide

She arrived a few hours ago.

He ordered them dinner and they chatted throughout; just like it was any other time. They both pretended nothing was changing.

She showered and curled up on the couch, book in hand. He showered and joined her. This was just an ordinary night between the President and the Admiral.

Eventually, their tiredness became apparent. They silently made their way to his rack; no suggestion the couch was long enough or comfortable enough to accommodate either of them. He backed up against the bulkhead, and she backed up against him. This was nothing unusual for two good friends.

Laura squirmed. Maybe there was a way she could position herself without constantly thinking about how comfortable he was. This was only a temporary thing until they found guest quarters.

"You okay?" His voice was loud next to her ear, even though he was trying to whisper. His breath was hot, scented with a faint trace of mint. "You need more room?"

"I'm fine."

"This should only be for a couple of nights."

"Of course."

They remained silent for a period. Filling in the blanks with noise was never compulsory with Bill.

"Unless you want to stay."

This is a companion piece/sequel to the above.

For the prompt of 'Laura's pov, about what she finds attractive in Bill'. I'm sure this is just one little snippet of what she finds attractive. I can't post 2000 words!

Title: Come Inside

She let herself relax. She was becoming anxious for no reason. They'd slept together before without overstepping any boundaries.

They settled again and she drifted off. She woke later to the sound of his deep breathing behind her. She swivelled to watch him sleep.

More than once, she had inspected his body, but it was rare treat for her to examine his face this close. Its sometimes severe features were softened beautifully by the muted light and his state of repose. The marks on his cheeks that she always thought of as a sign of strength were hidden beneath a shadow of whiskers. She reached out and enjoyed the sensation of their roughness beneath her touch.

Her gaze locked on his lips. Her one objection to the moustache had been the way it had almost hid his perfect lips. The bottom lip was slightly fuller. They had a nice flesh colour; no effeminate glassy red hue that repelled her in some men. She knew from experience they were soft.

"Seen enough?"

She jumped.

"Yes, thank you," she affected her most prim voice.

"Wanna touch anything?"

She pursed her lips at his audacity, and then regarded his lips again.

"Actually, yes."