She blinked rapidly under the blue intensity of his gaze, drinking her in as if he had never seen her before. As if he had thought he never would again.

A dark storm clouded his face; a dangerous introspection she recognized immediately.

The grip of his hands loosened slightly on her shoulders, touch burning through the rough wool of her jumper like a brand, trailing down her upper arms. Squeezing her gently this time.

Less possessive.

Reassuring.

Something of the crushing weight of New Caprica lifted under his hands and she shuddered at the release. She took half a step forward, the void between them melting away until the buttons of his uniform snagged on her jumper.

A pull stronger than gravity.

Gods she hated space.

But space was where Bill was. Where Bill would always be.

Without a word she laid her forehead against his shoulder, reveling in the familiar fabric even as it prickled her skin. The clean, crisp smell of him and military issue soap.

This is familiar.

She slid her arms around the broad expanse of his back.

This is solid.

And she tightened her hold on him even as he held her against him. A shield against all hurts. Bill would relieve her of all burdens if it were within his power. Sometimes she thought he believed it was. Like Atlas, he would shoulder the skies if he could.

This is safe.

Closing her eyes as he turned his face into her hair.

This is home.