The ones who'd been gone for so very long,

She couldn't remember their names,

They spun her around on the damp cold stones,

Spun away all her sorrows and pain.

Jenny of Oldstones

Lee Adama liked to think that he was an observant man. In fact, as Commander of the Galactica Air Group he rather hoped to the Gods that he was. But Lee was convinced that even a blind man could see that the pretense of gathering in the Admiral's quarters under the guise of the comfort of the President had long surpassed even passing credibility. In fact, the only person who got to their feet faster than her was Lee, and that was on a good day.

Lee had not been blind to his father's innate chivalry when the President had been ill, even despite their earlier and intense misgivings. He saw how often not even Billy could have been closer to her side. How steadfast he was in her protection as she was in his trust.

He noticed that he still moved to help her stand and always offered his arm to escort her on the paltry journey from the hatch to his couch. Saw the President accept each gesture with what was always a gracious though, perhaps, weary smile. Watched how, especially when Tigh and Commander Garner were absent, she would pause and wait for the Old Man to haul himself up before attempting to rise herself. Take his hand as if it were the balm to all her troubles.

No. The only reason he could see for this continued arrangement when there was a perfectly good wardroom not 200 meters away was that his father quite liked having her in his quarters and she, in turn, rather enjoyed being there.

Today was no different.

Despite the Admiral's abrupt departure, the President dawdled in collecting her things and, for no discernable reason, Lee dragged his own feet. Feeling rather like an overzealous student hoping to speak to his teacher alone as he fiddled uselessly with the sleeve of his uniform. But Laura packed away her papers with a fastidiousness that he was not sure was warranted even before the Fall of the Colonies.

"Something else, Captain?" She asked without lifting her head, flicking her gaze over the rim of her glasses instead.

"Uhh…" Lee fumbled.

Was there anything?

He was not jealous… not in any way that he could reliably pinpoint… but the sudden shift in her confidence from him to his father… he couldn't deny it didn't sting. He had always been told, over and over, that he was just like his father. The same praise, the same admonition, until the words just failed to register anymore. But perhaps that wasn't true. Perhaps he was just a serviceable substitute, a stand in, a glorified placeholder until the real thing became available.

The silence had stretched far too long now. His mouth hanging like a gaping fish.

"How are you Lee?" she asked in a much softer voice, and he felt the Captain drop away with the gentle slump of his shoulders, "I heard that you scared us there for a minute…" she fiddled restlessly with the closure of her bag, "I should have asked you sooner-"

"What? No!" he cut her off sharply, "No… you had your own near-death experience to be dealing with… you didn't need mine too."

She smiled a tight, pained smile that tried valiantly to reach her eyes.

"Still…" and he saw her face soften even as concern creased her eyes; the way he had always wished his mother's would, "Are you ok?"

Lee sat down awkwardly in the seat opposite as he thought furiously for a convincing reply. Painfully aware that there was unlikely to be anyone else in the fleet more uniquely qualified to zero in on whatever half-arsed platitudes he was about to spin than the woman sitting across from him.

"Is anyone ok?"

"I'm doing better."

"I'm sure someone out there has more reason to complain than me..."

"I'd be better if the Admiral lets me back in a plane."

"Do you wish they had waited just a moment longer?"

"Do you feel guilty? For coming back… for wishing you hadn't."

"Why me? When there are already so many faces on that wall."

"What was it like?" he heard himself blurt out from the whirlwind torrent raging between his ears.

He kept his gaze fixed on the carpet, cheeks flaming, so that if she was surprised by his outburst he at least couldn't see.

Lee heard the muffled creak of the old leather straining and glanced up just enough to see Laura nestle deeper into her seat. Her arms crossed, slightly too tight to be comfortable, tilting her head just enough for her hair to obscure her face. Lee felt his stomach drop all the way to the floor. His own vanity, his own insecurity forcing this woman to relive what must have been one of the worst experiences of her life. What was meant to be her last one.

But with a slowness that was certainly deliberate Laura unraveled herself enough to tuck her hair back behind her ear. Ensuring that Lee could see her eyes.

In truth, she had been afraid. At least at first. She did not know how she had ended up there; in his quarters. She could have sworn she had just closed her eyes. The lights were all extinguished. Not even the ever-present, red glow to scare away the shadows.

All alone.

Feeling her way through the dark. Searching… but for what?

The hands that had found hers were familiar but without the light she could not make out the face they belonged to. They had thumbed the back of her hands with strong, sure fingers. The pain finally easing with each sure stroke.

The memory of laughter had started soft from some far corner. Drawing her in deeper as a second echo joined the first. Dispelling her fear and filling her chest with warmth… even as the breath leaked out.

Soft hands had brushed her hair back from her eyes to cup her cheeks and the arms that had circled her waist were warm. Gods she'd forgotten what it was to be warm…

And then a wrench so violent she could have sworn her soul was torn away and lights so bright her eyes begged to return to the dark…

"I never wanted to leave." She admitted softly.