The doctor was right. She didn't like the side effects. For the last three days he had to give her something to counteract the overdose of homeopathic pills she was taking to cure her breast cancer. While the pills were killing the cancer, if she took too many too fast, they could also kill her.
So there was a combination of amphetamines and serotonin uptake inhibitors from the shots mixing with anti-carcinogenic pills rolling through her body and brain. Depending on the time of day, she could be charged with nervous energy, unable to keep still or hold on to a train of thought, or she could be groggy and on the verge of passing out.
All of this brain chemistry manipulation gave her nightmares and even caused her to sleepwalk. Only Billy and the doctor and two guards knew because Colonial One was empty at night except for the President and the guards. Laura Roslin objected to the guards but acquiesced when Commander Adama said that if she did not accept them, he would require her to stay on Galactica for security. Protection of the President fell to the military now since the Colonial Security Service had been annihilated during the attacks.
Learning to deal with the military on a daily basis was difficult enough for her. She couldn't imagine living among them. The potential for faux pax was huge. Lee couldn't be with her 24/7 to keep her from misunderstanding them or them from misunderstanding her.
Of course, the worst aspect of that arrangement would be living right next to Adama. He was difficult enough to deal with as a powerful subordinate; she dreaded the thought of having him as a shipmate. This, unfortunately, was crossing her mind as she slipped into the wild sleep of a prescription drug cocktail.
In her vivid dream, she refused the guards and arrangements were under way to move her to Galactica over her objections. Adama appeared much larger than he actually was. An unnamed threat lurked in the dark, undefined edges of the dream. Though she had misgivings about Adama, her dream self knew he would protect her against the dark threat.
Commander Adama was deep in a well-deserved slumber when his phone woke him. Growling, he picked up and said curtly, "Adama here."
"Commander, I need you," came her soft voice in a panicked whisper.
"Madam President, what happened to your guards!" the commander asked, trying to keep the alarm out of his voice.
"I don't know. They're gone. Husher, there's a Cylon here and she's going to kill me!"
"I'm on my way. Listen to me. As quickly and quietly as you can, get the gun I gave you and get up into the storage bin over your bed. Got it?"
"Yes. Please hurry," she pleaded.
He'd never heard her so scared. Adama vaulted from his quarters half dressed but armed.
One of the best decisions he'd ever made, he decided as he raced for the airlock, was to permanently dock Colonial One with Galactica when they weren't jumping or under attack. Breakaway maneuvers were down to an acceptable time and this arrangement saved quite a bit of shuttle fuel since they had daily meetings. It also allowed extra security for the President, which was the real motivation for Adama, though he would not admit it to himself.
A guard was posted on the Galactica side of the airlock. As Adama raced by him, gun in hand, he gave him a silent signal to follow. At the far end, Adama keyed in his security code then slid up against the wall as the seal opened onto Colonial One.
The two guards had their weapons drawn and pointed at the entry per standard operating procedure. When they saw the bare-chested commander and the other guard pointing their weapons at them in return, they demanded the codeword of the night. Only the guards, the commander and the President knew it.
Adama was taken aback to see the two guards in position and following procedure. "Celestial body," replied the commander, keeping his gun drawn.
The two guards looked at each other and lowered their weapons. Adama did not. "Where's the President?" he whispered.
"Sir, she's still in her bed," one of the guards answered in a hush. "What's happening?"
Adama motioned for silence as he made his way to her room. He slipped sideways through the curtain ready to fire. If he was too late, he'd never forgive himself. She'd called out for him when she was threatened.
He panned the room but there was no one there, no movement at all. Swallowing hard, he turned back through the curtain and instructed one guard to hold the entrance, one to search the rest of the ship and the third to cover the entrance to her bedroom.
Swiftly, he reentered her room and swept along the side of it, scanning through the site of his gun. When he got to her bed, he looked down to see the sheets twisted and thrown aside. After checking the room one more time and coming up negative, he holstered his gun and undid the hatch to the cargo bin over her bed.
Laura came tumbling out, crashed into him and rolled on top of him on the bed. She pushed off his chest with a scream and pointed a gun at his head with a shaking hand.
The guard outside her room came running in and halted when he saw the President clad in her nightgown astride the commander pointing a gun at his head.
The President seemed unaware of the guard. "Cylon," she hissed at Adama.
Now the guard was really confused. He felt he must protect both of these people who may actually be trying to kill each other.
Adama held his hand up toward the guard telling him to stand fast. "Laura," Adama rumbled, in a low, soothing voice, "can you hear me?"
She didn't respond. Frozen in place, she only blinked and her brow furrowed.
"Laura," he started again, careful not to move, "the Cylon is dead. We found her and killed her before she got to you."
"Husher?" she whispered, sounding like a child in need of rescue.
"Yes, it's me. You're safe now," he said in a reassuring tone.
She, gave a relieved sob, dropped the gun to one side of the mattress and collapsed on him in a hug. He wrapped her in his arms as she buried her face in his neck.
The guard was shocked and mesmerized.
"She was sleepwalking," Adama whispered to him. Adama knew how this looked to the young man. Whenever he was embarrassed in front of his warriors, the commander found the best thing to do was to give an order. "She's alright. Return to your post."
Once the guard was gone, Adama turned his thoughts to extracting himself. He knew it was dangerous to wake a sleepwalker, so he waited for her to shift so he could slip out from under her while she slept. Other than stroking her hand across his chest, she didn't make any movement for over 20 minutes. At first he was impatient. Then the impatience dissipated into fascination. In the quiet darkness illuminated only by starlight from the window opposite the bed, he studied the woman lying on top of him.
She was his boss and his frequent adversary in matters of leadership. President Roslin had a bottomless well of hidden strength and keener insight than anyone he'd ever known. Yet, when she had a nightmare, she called out for him. He took a good deal of comfort that he was some use to her and that she trusted him even though she frequently disagreed with him.
He turned his head to the side and stopped wondering when he could get out from under her. He started to wonder how long he could stay. It was dangerous and bizarre, but given the strangeness of the situation, it seemed like a reasonable endeavor. Husher wondered if he could steal a kiss while she wouldn't be the wiser. It would be a catastrophe of legendary proportions if she woke and caught him in his weakness but once an illicit idea forms in the mind of a fighter pilot, it's hard to shake.
Very slowly, he turned his head all the way toward her and touched her forehead with a butterfly kiss. Laura didn't stir. Emboldened, he stroked her hair as lightly as he could. She moaned a bit and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder so he stopped immediately. He closed his eyes and found himself disturbed by the way he felt about her now. It would make everything even more difficult if he had to cover that up while defending his positions on military matters. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep waiting for her to move.
Laura woke slowly. She was in a fog that cleared instantly when she realized she was on top of someone. In a crisis, most people tend to flail or run or jump to action. Laura always did the opposite. She became very still. Carefully, she drew her right hand away from the shoulder she clutched and braced it against the mattress. Very slowly, she rose up on it and looked down on the face of the chief of her military.
Clearly, something untoward happened. He was naked to the waist and she was on top of him with her nightgown twisted up to her waist. Why couldn't she remember anything? If he was a Cylon, he would have killed her already. Then the dream returned to her in pieces. Some idea of what must have actually happened came to her but she couldn't separate what was the dream and what was probable reality.
She moved her left hand to his shoulder and was about to wake him when she drew it back. He looked serene. She'd never seen this side of the warrior, so she lingered, drinking it in. Though he was handsome and had a voice that gripped everything feminine in her, she always dismissed any sexual thoughts about him as soon as they came to her. They were dangerous. No more dangerous than lying on top of him in her nightgown, though.
It was a rare moment these days when she wasn't in the spotlight. No one would know. Gingerly, she inched up toward his face and gathered the courage to steal a kiss before waking him. As soon as she touched her lips to his he woke, held her tightly and kissed her hungrily. Startled, she pulled back but he didn't waiver. He kissed her again, with even more need as he rolled her over onto her back.
Laura felt like she just woke up in someone else's sex life. Though he aroused her, she needed to know what they'd already done before she went any further. When he moved his lips from hers to her neck, she finally had the opportunity to speak. Just then, he hit her erogenous Achilles heel. The question she'd begun to form turned into a moan. Her fingers entangled into the hair at the back of his head, encouraging him.
Struggling to keep control, she finally managed to get out one husky word, "Commander."
He froze. Slowly, he pulled away from her enough to look down into her eyes. Disoriented, he blinked then looked around the room. He looked back down at her, "Holy…is this real?"
"Yes," she replied with a grin, relieved he was at as much of a disadvantage as she was.
"I thought I was still dreaming about you." The commander realized his mistake as soon as he said it.
President Roslin picked up on the revelation immediately. She placed one hand behind her head and studied his eyes. Was it possible he was schizophrenic? The man on top of her, who'd been dreaming about her, was so far removed from the impression she had of the man who was the chief of her military.
Mortified, Adama looked away and withdrew from her. He was about to get off the bed when she sat up and put her hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look at her.
"Husher, I don't really remember what exactly happened last night. Did we sleep together?"
He thought about lying to her. If he said they had sex, would she let him make love to her again? "Yes."
Her heart beat wildly.
He could only lead her astray for a moment, then he had to take the high road. "But we didn't have sex."
She exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
Adama got up from the bed and told her the whole story. At the end, he looked at the floor as he promised, "I'm sorry for kissing you, Madam President. I didn't know what I was doing." He was dying to get out of there.
"I wouldn't say that," she said as she slid out of bed and walked over to him. "You're actually a surprisingly good kisser," she teased, smiling up at him. Unconsciously, she slid her hand over her neck. He thought of how she moaned when he kissed her in the right spot. He'd give anything to do it again.
Fighting the urge to pull her to him, he merely returned the smile. Adama was heartened by the graceful way she was letting him off the hook. "Thank you, Madam President," he said as he turned to leave. "I hope you'll keep that in mind," he threw back over his shoulder as he exited her room.
