Written for the 'his and hers - colours' challenge. That is, to write two drabbles, one from Bill's pov and one from Laura's with the prompt of 'colours'.

Title: Different in the Sunlight

Part One: Laura

Laura watches Bill from the shadows of a tarp. She's never seen him in the sunlight.

She remembers his appearance the first time they met - boots and buttons polished, hair short and slicked into place. Everything spic and spam, in control, just like he pretended to be. Meanwhile, his heart had been breaking; with one dead son, and another refusing all overtures of reconciliation. His only constant, an aging Battlestar, was being pulled apart to become a sideshow attraction.

She smiles, content that she now knows so much more about this man.

He sits with his tunic open, his sleeves pulled up, and his boots discarded. His hair, with its extra length, flicks haphazardly in the wind. There's a trace of the black shade from his photographs, intermingled with flecks of red that Lee has inherited, and more than a smattering of grey.

He glances sideways and she gets a glimpse of the moustache he told her about over the wireless. It's entirely grey. Arousal throbs through her body at the thought of him kissing her intimately - his soft tongue and lips soothingly following the trail of abrasion the bristles will etch.

She moves to sit beside him, touches him welcomingly.

His olive colouring has unnaturally paled from their prolonged period in space. He digs his bare feet into the sand and she has a vivid image of him in his youth: his body lithe, his hair dark, his body tanned and well-toned.

It's of little consequence. She's interested in the man he is today. The one shaped by the ravages of duty, death and divorce.

She flushes as desire thrums across her. She wants him to make her feel like a woman again. She knows he will.

He'll be her last lover.

The thought makes her giddy with happiness.

Part Two: Bill

Bill is giddy with happiness when he hears Laura's husky tone behind him.

He glances in her direction and he's blinded unexpectedly by her radiance. He isn't anticipating the New Caprican sun to enrich her features to such an extent.

His memory drifts to the day her high heels first clipped onto his Battlestar. Her hair had been disciplined and dyed a dark brown. The lavender suit she had worn came with a skirt as tight as it was short. He had seen her as a sophisticated professional - beautiful but untouchable. He now knew that she wasn't deliberately acting aloof and superior that day, but had been simply struggling with the devastating news of her cancer diagnosis.

He smiles, thankful he now understands her so much better.

As she lowers herself beside him, he eyes her dress that flows over and accentuates her feminine curves. It's a peculiar shade of red, contrasting yet heightening the rich dark auburn of her hair as it falls in thick waves around her shoulders.

He struggles to identify the other colour present in her outfit. The best he can come up with to describe the slip of material covering her full breasts is grey. This doesn't illustrate the colour or do it justice though, he thinks. It's prettier than grey.

His eyes drift lower and he notices she's inadvertently revealing more creamy white flesh than she probably had intended. She quickly remedies this situation by hitching the bodice back into place.

He gives her an apologetic look for his inappropriate ogling. However, her green eyes twinkle back at him with mischief. She is casually flirting with him.

He wants her, wants to make her feel like a woman again.

She'll be his last lover.

She may never know, but she is his first love.

The End