President Roslin and Commander Adama didn't stop their impassioned kiss on Col Tigh's account. They were barely aware he was in the room. They were barely aware anyone else existed at all. When they finally broke apart for air, Adama kept his gaze fixed on her. After a few deep breaths he said, "Game's over, Saul. I'll see you tomorrow." His eyes never left hers.
Tigh had been dismissed before, but never without so much as a glance. He didn't take it personally, though. Anyone could sense the high voltage in the room, no matter how unexpected it was. Husher didn't usually break the rules and she wouldn't have been Tigh's first choice of lovers, no matter how sexy she was, because she was too smart and powerful. Saul preferred women who were dim and dependent, obviously.
His friend and commander was a big boy. He could make his own mistakes. He certainly wasn't looking for opinions or help, so Col Tigh pulled his unwilling wife out of the hatch. "Night, Sir. Madam President," he added with an ignored grin as he closed the hatch.
The two most important people left of the Colonies sat staring at each other, stunned by the revelation of their first conscious kiss. They'd lusted after each other, flirted with each other and had been physically close over the last couple of days but nothing prepared them for the depth of the biochemical reaction and accompanying feelings unleashed by the kiss. They were looking for a good time and found a life-altering connection.
Like a child testing very dangerous but alluring waters, Adama reached out with both hands and stroked her arms from her shoulders to her elbows and back up. Laura shivered with excitement. Husher stopped but kept his warm hands on her, waiting for permission.
She could not give it to him. "I," she started but couldn't finish without lowering her gaze. "I only meant to save you from Ellen."
Adama raised his right hand to her hair and ran it through his fingers like it was fine silk. Laura closed her eyes and tilted her head back at the sensation. "Husher, we can't," she whispered.
Undaunted, he rose
with her in his arms and carried her over to the bed. "Oh yes we
can," he replied as he laid her down.
Laura was startled
by the depth and strength of the connection between them. She was no
longer worried about losing him as a friend, she was worried about
losing herself. Never before had she felt such a powerful force
linking her to another person. What if it was so overpowering that
she couldn't focus on anything else? How could she keep the
military in check if she lost the will to keep its chief in check?
Adama had the opposite reaction. Just as the President was backing away from this dangerous liaison, he was fascinated by it. Danger was part of his chosen profession. He was drawn to it, especially when there was so much to be gained. This might be…she might be, the raison d'etre he'd always sought but gave up on finding.
When he leaned in for another kiss she gripped his shoulders and whispered, "No."
That was all it took. He froze, then straightened back up. Looking into her eyes, he could see the refusal pained her, so he didn't push it.
She didn't know what to say so she watched in silence as he went and retrieved his blanket and pillow and started to lay them out on the floor.
"I can't have you sleeping on the floor, Commander," she said with determination.
"Well, I can't have you hurting yourself if you sleepwalk on my watch," he retorted as he took off his shirt.
Silently, she shifted over to the far side of the bed. "Get in," she said. "And don't argue with me. It would be a colossal blow to my self esteem if I had to order a man to sleep next to me."
When she put it that way, he abandoned his litany of reasons why it was OK for him to sleep on the floor. Underlining her desire not to discuss it, she rolled over so her back was to him. He dropped his trousers and slid in next to her. The bed wasn't big enough for him to avoid touching her so he spooned her and boldly put his arm over her waist.
Instead of rebuking him, she rested her arm and hand on top of his. When she laced her fingers with his, he relaxed and kissed her lightly on the shoulder.
"Good night," he whispered.
"Good night," she breathed. Were it not for the drugs, she never would've been able to sleep. The man she desired was so close he ignited the blood coursing through her. As it was, she succumbed to the dream world in less than ten minutes.
Husher was not so fortunate. Sober and energized by having her near, he heard her breathing change as she slipped into dreaming. 40 minutes later when she began to mumble in her sleep, he was still awake to hear the words. She tightened her grip on his hand and brought it up under her chin as she curled into a more fetal position. He wondered what was scaring her and wished he could take away the fear. A light sheen of sweat glistened on her skin as she tossed over awkwardly with her bandaged foot impeding her. When her arm fell against Adama's chest, she was startled and sat straight up. He rose to prevent her from leaving the bed. She struck out at him and flailed violently when he grabbed her wrists.
"How could you! You're worse than they are. I should have killed you the first chance I had," she said before wresting her right hand from his grip and punching him hard in the chest. Momentarily stunned, he dropped her other wrist. While he was doubled over, she pushed around him and was making her way off the bed. He lunged at her and pulled her back on top of him before her feet hit the floor. He had her arms pinned with his own so she bit his neck to get him to release her. Adama growled at the pain and rolled her underneath him but he didn't let go of her.
Tears were running down her cheeks as she stopped struggling. "Before you kill me," she said with resolution, "at least let me see Commander Adama. I know you're going to kill us both. Maybe you can get some information out of it if you let me talk to him."
Adama felt terrible about whatever she was going through. He let go of her and sat up. Laura extended her arms out. Upon touching his shoulders, she cried, "Husher!" She rose to him and embraced him desperately while she sobbed, "I'm so sorry. You were right." He tightened his arms around her. She got on her knees and kissed him hard on the mouth, nearly knocking him over. Her head moved down to his chest and she whispered, "I wish we'd made love." He enveloped her in his arms and stroked her hair. If only she'd say that while awake, he thought.
A klaxon went off, waking her to a state of confusion. She was in Husher's arms, just as she thought she was, but how did they get back to his quarters from Colonial One? Where were the Cylons and Baltar who'd been watching them?
Gently, he pulled away from her and went to answer his call from the CIC. A flight of reconnaissance raiders were closing in on their position. Alert raptors were scrambled to respond. "We'll be right up," he grumbled before hanging up.
He turned to the President who had figured out she'd been dreaming but still looked a bit groggy. "We have to get dressed and get up to the CIC. We have fight on our hands. If even one of the five raiders get away, our position will be made," he explained as he pulled on his trousers.
Without a word, she reached for her crutch and made her way to the bathroom to throw on her clothes as quickly as she could. As soon as she opened the door, he picked her up and headed for the hatch.
"You can't be serious. Put me down and get up there. I'll make it on my own in time," she chastised.
He continued out the hatch, carrying her with him. "You obviously haven't been on many deployments. A member of the crew saw us kissing hours ago. That means the rumor mill has had enough time to convince the entire fleet you and I are married and you're pregnant by now. Discretion is a waste of time. The crew will respect us more if we're up front about it."
"Up front about what? We're not involved," she reasoned.
He stopped for a second and looked into her eyes. He didn't have to say anything. The silent exchange made her hold her breath. She may be able to deny their connection to someone else, but not to him. Whether or not they had sex was almost irrelevant given the magnitude of their spiritual need for each other.
He continued on toward the CIC, blocking his frustration with her by thinking about whether the raptors would be able to corral one of the raiders into Galactica's bay. The one Starbuck brought back gave them a wealth of intel and info they could use for counter tactical ops. One that was in better shape would prove even more useful. Lee and a group of the engineers determined if the raptors could get a clean shot straight through the head, it would be disabled and they could use empty aimpoints on the raptor to tow it into the bay.
Heads turned as he entered the CIC but the crew was ordered not to come to attention during crisis ops. As the commander predicted, word about them had already spread and most of the crew in the CIC either knew enough not to stare or was too busy with the attack to pay attention as the commander seated the President.
Some did notice, however, he chose to seat her next to him in the Director of Operations' chair instead of up in the observation station. It wasn't as significant in terms of their personal relationship as it was their working relationship. In fact, it was important for the President's relationship to the entire crew of Galactica. Seating her next to him meant she would hear everything he heard, see everything he saw and know everything he knew the instant he knew it. There would be no more operational secrets from the President.
The DO glanced up from where he was sitting at the real-time ops display at the woman sitting in his staff chair. He'd always respected her office and thought she'd made sound decisions since she took over, but now he respected her personally as well. If she'd taken the Old Man as her mate despite their differences, she must have guts and spirit. Good looks and brains weren't enough to win the commander's confidence. In fact, the DO couldn't remember Commander Adama ever letting a civilian sit next to him during operations. He nodded his head to her and continued monitoring the execution of his orders.
President Roslin was amazed that no one seemed shocked or appalled by their commander carrying her in to the CIC in the middle of a crisis. At first the meaning of the chair was lost on her until the DO acknowledged her. Then she knew…Adama unconditionally let her in. Apparently, that meant the crew followed suit, trusting inherently in their commander. Every member who reported to him with an update, gave her the same information if it was printed. If it was a verbal update, the person reporting balanced attention between the two leaders. No one needed to be told to include her. It was understood from the way Commander Adama treated her.
Her appreciation of the military deepened considerably. Adama's ability to command so many unquestioning crewmembers didn't stem from some threat of brutality or from hostile indoctrination. He earned their respect over time by being more loyal to them and caring more about them than they cared for themselves. His wisdom was born of a lot of painful losses and mistakes, like the father of many children living in a dangerous place.
Even the XO, who didn't particularly like the President, conceded to the commander's decision to treat her as a member of the crew, the highest ranking member as a matter of fact. In his mind, he was willing to put up with it if it meant she'd keep sleeping with Adama. Subconsciously, Saul's worst fear was that Ellen would succeed in her long-term goal of seducing his commanding officer. He knew she didn't love Adama, she just wanted him because he would be the highest notch on her bedpost. He figured if Adama had the President, he wouldn't want anyone else. Judging by the way they kissed, he imagined Adama would stay pretty satisfied.
One of the raptors was lost in a dogfight. When the DO reported the call sign, "Isis", to Commander Adama and President Roslin, Adama closed his eyes and pursed his lips. Isis was one of the promising new pilots. Everyone liked her for her quick sense of humor and the way she took care of everybody as if she was the Galactica's den mother. The President only knew her peripherally but sensed and shared the commander's pain at her loss. She tried not to think about how she'd established empathy with him so quickly. Reaching sideways across the consoles, she put her hand in his. He grasped it and tightened his fingers around hers as he opened his eyes. Adama took in the sadness in her eyes then was able to look back at the DO.
"I want the rest to keep trying to get a clean kill and bring one back the way we exercised."
"Aye, Sir," he said as he returned to the real-time display.
Both the XO and the DO noted how Adama drew strength from the President. Most of the people on the floor noticed how she shared in the grief over Isis, which added to her new standing as one of their own.
Adama explained the strategy to her. She understood the difficulty of getting a clean shot and preventing the thing from going kamikaze before they could affix it to a raptor and drag it in. Lee got the shot off and Starbuck, who'd had a little experience with the raiders, latched on to it and brought it home.
The CIC released a collective breath when she successfully got it under her wings. People were high-fiving and hooting. Some even hugged but the President restrained herself to a smile at Adama. He beamed back at her. That's when she noticed half a bite mark above his uniform collar. Horrified, she leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Can I talk to you in private somewhere?"
Adama figured she had some grand plan for the raider already. "We can talk in my office," he answered. He was tired and not looking forward to going over all the possible uses for the captured craft but he was the one who let her in to his world.
Since it wasn't urgent, instead of carrying her, he got on the side of her bad foot and took her arm across his shoulders as he put his around her waist to support her on their way to his office. Once inside, she didn't wait to sit down to say, "You have a love bite on your neck!"
Adama put his free hand to his neck where it was sore. "Damn it. I forgot."
She grabbed the back of a chair and sat down. "Forgot! Was it Ellen?" she asked, sounding more accusatory than she'd like.
"No. It was you," he said with satisfaction.
"I couldn't possibly…" she stopped her defense when she remembered that she was on her knees, in his arms when the klaxon woke her up. "While I was sleeping?" she asked with trepidation.
"Yes," he answered without elaborating.
Her imagination over what else might have happened got the best of her. Though her robe was slightly open, she still had all her clothes on when she woke. For all she knew, however, they'd been off and were back on. If she couldn't remember biting him, she might have done far worse without knowing it.
Thinking back on the bite and how embarrassing it would be if one of the crew noticed it, he enjoyed letting her stew a bit.
"I'm sorry," she said as he sat down next to her. He knew what she was wondering and decided to be merciful.
"It's not a love bite, if that makes you feel any better. You were trying to defend yourself…against a Cylon or collaborator, I think."
This did make her feel better. It also beckoned the dream. In a flash, the fear and urgency returned to her. "Commander, you're right. Ellen is a Cylon and Baltar is a collaborator."
"It was a dream, Madam President," he soothed, wondering if the drugs were still in her system.
"Husher, I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to think I've truly lost it, but I've been having prescient dreams lately."
Adama was quiet for a moment, trying to balance his natural skepticism with his innate belief in her. "Well, that's not good for me," he said slyly. "The last thing you said before you woke up was that you wished we'd made love."
He meant it as a joke to lighten the mood but the idea to test whether they could change the future she saw in her dreams took hold of her. She decided to find out. "Lock the door."
Adama wondered what she had up her sleeve now. He hoped he wasn't in for some sort of elaborate tarot card reading but he humored her by getting up and locking the door. She'd stood up while his back was turned. He came over to her to get her to sit back down. She grabbed his shoulders and kissed him, backing him against the desk. Keeping her bad foot off the floor, she leaned on him with all her weight, bending him back over the desk. When she had him completely lateral, she straddled him and held him down with the force of her kiss.
