Deception, Day 10, Colonial Fleet Day…

Bill finished reading the third letter, placing it on his desk before looking over at Laura, who was waiting impatiently to go to the party.

"It's working then," he commented, making his way round the desk.

"Yes it is," she confirmed. "Now, can we go?"

"You're so impatient," he countered, picking up his jacket from the couch and shrugging it on.

"We're late!" she reminded him, as she flicked his hands out of the way and took over fastening the buttons.

"I can dress myself," he remarked, but he made no attempt to stop her.

"But you don't do it quickly enough."

"Says the woman who spent two hours doing her hair – "

He stopped abruptly, and Laura looked up, brow furrowed in question. "What's wrong?"

"We sound like an old married couple," he informed her, his face completely serious, and close to horrified.

She laughed and finished up fastening his jacket. "Don't look so terrified," she said as she straightened his collar. "Being married to me wouldn't be that bad."

"I'll have to take your word for that."

She smiled, knowingly. "Ah, according to one rumour Tory heard, you'll find out for yourself in three weeks."

"They're marrying us off?"

"Apparently it's the next logical step for us."

"How long do they think we've been having this affair?"

She shrugged, checking her own appearance to make sure they were finally ready to leave. "It varies. Some think it's recent, others think it started on New Caprica. Apparently she also heard that we already are married."

"Hmm… Well we're certainly acting like it."

"Yes," she responded, facing him full on now she was sure she was presentable, "Acting, Bill." She tilted her head to one side. "So don't look so worried."

He locked his eyes onto hers, and her stomach fluttered when his lips curved into a small smile. "I'm not worried." He kept his eyes on her as he crossed the last few steps and opened the hatch. "After you, Mrs Adama."

She laughed as she approached him. "Oh that will definitely quell those rumours," she said quietly as she passed him.

The guards closed the hatch after them, and Bill offered Laura his arm as they walked through the corridors to the disused hangar bay that had been decorated for the occasion.

"We're not supposed to be quelling rumours," Bill countered, equally quietly.

"No," she whispered back, "But I much prefer the rumours where our relationship is new, and exciting, and we're so completely besotted we can't keep our hands off each other and that's why we keep being caught in compromising positions," she grinned, glancing up at him.

He moved his face closer to her ear to speak even more softly. "So if the two airmen who are about twenty feet behind us, and are trying to hang back so we won't know they're there, were to see us glance round and then disappear into the next storage room, that would fuel the right kind of rumours?"

Laura prayed that the heat she could feel coursing through her veins was not showing through her skin, and forced a smile that she hoped didn't show precisely how much she thought his suggestion was a good idea. "Yes. That would be fine."

As she replayed her words in her mind to check they had sounded natural, and not at all… aroused…, Bill must have put the plan into action, for the next thing she knew, a hatch was open and she was being ushered through.

She willingly followed where he led, and glanced round at her new surroundings while Bill secured the hatch.

"They'll run straight to the party now, and tell a few people why we're not there yet," Bill smirked.

Laura returned his smile. "And in the meantime, we'll…?" she trailed off questioningly.

Bill shrugged. "Talk?"

Laura laughed and glanced round for something to sit on. Finding a stack of boxes, she tentatively leaned on them first to make sure they wouldn't collapse, and then she sat down.

Silence fell, and Laura looked anywhere but at Bill. She was well aware of what they could be doing while they were in there; she was well aware of what everyone would think that they did while in there; and there was a part of her that was trying to taunt her with the fact that, if everyone was going to think it anyway, they might as well just go ahead and do it.

With Bill in such close proximity, and smelling so damn good, it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore that part of her.

It was Bill suddenly sighing thoughtfully that returned her full attention to him.

"The things I do to protect you," he muttered wistfully.

She would have kicked him – playfully of course – if she could have reached.

"You realise this one looks far more suspicious than the other compromising positions?… Those could easily be explained away. Us in a storage room together, doesn't exactly lend itself to believable cover stories."

"Ah, but you underestimate me," Bill said, moving past Laura and to some boxes at the very back of the room.

"Do you want a hand?" she offered as she watched him rearranging.

"No, I'm fine," he declined, as he lifted the lid off one box, and began rooting through it.

"What are you looking for?" she asked.

He didn't answer until he had pulled a bottle of wine from the box, and turned to face her again. "You really are impatient."

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he continued, holding up the wine.

"We stopped by here for me to get this out of storage for you, to give to Starbuck for coming up with the idea for Colonial Fleet Day."

"So this wasn't as spontaneous as it appeared? You had planned to lure me into a storage room," she teased.

"The idea came to me when I realised we were being watched…" he explained, "I realised it would work when I remembered this was in here."

"Ah. Quick thinking, Admiral."

"Thank you, Madam President. Shall we go join the party?"

"I think that's wise," because it's far too hot in here, "before the party relocates to this corridor to see if the latest rumour is true."

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