Damage Control
By: Mariel

Part 2

She wasn't sure how much time had passed. Taking off her glasses, Laura Roslin rubbed her forehead with the heels of both hands, then turned to look over at the Admiral, who, true to his word, had not uttered a sound the entire time she had worked.

It was immediately apparent why.

Smiling, she rested the side of her head on one hand and took the opportunity to watch him while he slept. It was nice to have the freedom to examine him without the worry of someone taking note of her interest.

Even asleep, William Adama emitted a solid, masculine aura that she found impossible not to respond to. He half-sat, half-lay on the sofa, his knees spread, his book lying forgotten across his lap. Taking her time, she let her eyes skim over his grey-peppered hair and closed eyes, and allowed them to come to rest upon his mouth. She liked his mouth; liked the firm line of it and the curve of his lower lip. She liked the way it quirked at the corners when he almost-smiled and, on some instinctive level, she was certain it was capable of kissing well and thoroughly. Not for the first time, she wondered what it would be like to have him kiss her again. Really kiss her. Not a kiss of thank you or sympathy or of simple affection, but a serious, mind-blowing, passionate kiss that rocked her soul and made her knees weak and her thoughts fuzzy. She exhaled softly. With the attraction between them having reached the point where it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore, she couldn't help but picture herself walking over and lightly touching her lips to his, just to find out what would happen.

She smiled faintly, then shook her head at the idea.

Attacking him in his sleep might be tempting, but probably not the best way to finally initiate something.

She moved to rest her chin on the heel of her hand and continued to ponder his sleeping form. She'd danced with him; been held in his arms and against his body. He'd drawn her to him confidently that night and she'd relaxed against him comfortably, surprised and pleased at how well they moved together. It had felt good, and she had wondered even then what it would have been like to be alone with him, her arms wound around his neck, the full length of her body pressed against his, while-

She straightened up as a trill of sexual awareness coursed through her. Perhaps, she decided, she should find something else to think about. Always one to finish what she started, however, her eyes lingered on the length of his thighs and the way his pants fit over them. There was something very male about it, something that made her want to kneel between them and slide her hands along them from knee to- She halted abruptly. Disappointingly, the book he'd been reading prevented her from considering another noteworthy piece of his anatomy.

She stifled a grin. Definitely time to stop.

Sitting here in the silence and warmth of his quarters, however, she felt loathe to wake him. He looked more at peace than she had seen him in a long time, and she knew how uninviting the room he was presently living in was. To wake him and have him leave for it seemed cruel, somehow. And gods knew the sofa was probably more comfortable than the rack she'd been shown as proof she needed to accept the offer of his quarters.

"Treat my place as your own," he'd said. "I'm fine with using the GQ for a few days. You need a place suitable for someone of your position - a place where you can have meetings and entertain officials. The guest quarters weren't made for that. They're uninviting, uncomfortable, and don't even come close to fitting the bill for what you need. And they definitely don't have the room you need for working with your aides. You'd end up using my place anyway, so why not just make it official and be done with it?"

He had made it sound so sensible, she'd finally agreed.

The feelings she experienced sitting at his desk, using his things...sleeping in his bed...however, were not so sensible and were far more difficult to explain. And they had surprised her with their intensity. She swore she could smell him on the sheets and pillows, could feel his warm presence in the air around her when she was alone.

This was his space, and it suited her. Welcomed her. Made her feel comfortable. That filled her with a satisfaction she didn't like to examine too closely.

Rising, she walked over to the wall and turned a switch that shut off the lamp over the table where she had worked. It also turned off the light Adama had been reading by. She shrugged. He wouldn't be needing it now, anyway. Like it or not, it was time to wake him so he could leave. Slipping out of her shoes, she walked softly towards him in the dimmed lighting. Settling herself carefully at the edge of the sofa beside him, she placed a hand lightly on his knee.

"Bill," she said gently.

No response.

She moved to lay her hand over his where it rested on his chest and curled her fingers around it so that the tips of her fingers touched his palm.

"Bill?" she repeated, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

She felt him tighten his fingers around hers in response. Slowly, his eyes opened. "Mmmm?"

"You fell asleep," she said softly.

Instead of releasing her hand and rising, he maintained his hold and closed his eyes again with a comfortable sigh. For a long moment he gently caressed the top of her fingers with his thumb.

She stayed frozen in place, shocked at her body's reaction to the contact.

"Mmmm," he finally repeated.

She looked at him, nonplussed. When his thumb slowed and then finally stopped its gentle caress, she realised he had fallen back into sleep. Looking down at their joined hands, she tried to remember the last time someone had held her hand.

How long had it been since she had welcomed a touch so much?

She closed her eyes a moment, imagining that same hand trailing across her skin - and then opened them quickly.

What was wrong with her tonight?

Forcing herself to think clearly, she made a decision and carefully extricated her fingers from his grasp. He was obviously exhausted and starved for sleep. It was still reasonably early, so she could give him more time to rest by readying herself for bed and then reading for a while. She could wake him up just before Tory came back to fetch the reports.

An hour and a half later, after changing and reading for a while in his rack, she tried waking him again.

He responded to her first whisper.

Opening his eyes, he took note of his surroundings and immediately struggled to sit up straighter. Catching the book that had lain across his lap as it slid towards the floor, he leaned over and laid it face down on the coffee table. Removing his glasses, he looked up at her and began, "I'm sorry, I-" His face clouded in confusion. "How long have I been out?" he asked, gesturing at her night robe.

Laura smiled. "I think almost four hours. I tried to wake you up a couple of hours ago, but you weren't very cooperative. I decided to give you a little more time by getting ready for bed. Then made the mistake of lying down. I was reading, and forgot to watch the time," she explained. "It's close to 2300 now. Tory will be here in just a few minutes."

"I'm sorry," he said, his face still showing some of the slackness of just waking. Making a visible attempt to gather himself into alertness, he rubbed his neck and then looked at her with a slight smile. "Any time you want me awake, have CIC call me. I never sleep though the phone."

She grinned. "I'll remember that for next time."

He rose. Forgetting what she had said about having to wait for Tory, he said, "I'd better get out of here and let you get to sleep." He paused remembering something, then nodded towards the head. "I need another towel. Let me grab one, and I'm out of your hair."

A moment after he disappeared into the head, there was a quiet knock on the hatch.

Glancing at the clock, Laura knew it had to be Tory. She called an unnecessary, "Come in," and moved to gather the files she'd been working on from Bill's table.

As the hatch was pulled open, she turned and smiled.

Tory stepped into the dimly lit quarters. As the soldier on duty closed the hatch behind her, she noted the President's attire and said, "Madame President, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You're right on time as always, Tory," she said pleasantly. "And I haven't slept yet. I was just lying down." Holding out the files, she said, "I finished everything. Thanks for organising it so well."

Tory, however, didn't notice the proffered papers. Instead, her surprised gaze focussed beyond the President.

Laura turned. Bill walked towards them from the direction of the head. He was looking down and adjusting his jacket. Closing it around him, he began to do up the buttons from the bottom. Still unaware of Tory's presence, he groused, "You use too many towels. I'll have to call down for-" He stopped speaking when he noticed Tory's presence, but continued moving towards the two women.

Laura turned back to Tory and watched her young aide's gaze travel from her state of undress to the Admiral's efforts to dress, and then, slowly, in the direction of Bill's rack.

"Oh, gods," she thought. She'd never felt so naked in a long silk nightgown and matching robe in her life. Self-consciously, she gathered the files into the crook of her arm and clumsily drew the tie at her waist a little tighter.

Oblivious to both Laura's concern and Tory's shocked expression, Adama drew to a stop beside Roslin and nodded at her aide. "Tory," he said, with a relaxed smile, "It's nice to see you." He casually continued dressing, skilfully tucking in the flap of his jacket and securing the inside button.

Tory nodded and smiled somewhat feebly. She seemed unable to speak and her eyes bounced back and forth between them like nervous cats.

Turning to Laura, Bill left the last two neck buttons undone and smiled. "Thanks for tonight. It was just what the doctor ordered. I feel like a new man."

Tory's shocked, swift intake of breath was audible.

Bill's choice of words had a totally different effect on Laura.

Looking from Tory's stunned face to Bill's serious and totally oblivious one, she tried to stifle a sudden, overwhelming urge to giggle.

One hand flew to her chest. "I'm glad," she got out, struggling for composure. "It was the least I could do," she added, her voice sounding oddly strangled. Cursing her funny bone, she quickly turned to Tory and held the files out once again. Breathlessly, she said, "Thank you, Tory. I won't keep you."

Tory finally thought to take the offered files. Working hard to keep her face expressionless, she said, "Of course, Madame President." She pushed on the hatch and it opened slightly. Backing out through the opening slowly, she watched them as though mentally confirming that her eyes had not deceived her.

A giggle escaped Laura just as the door clanged closed.

Bill looked at her, puzzled. He'd seen her like this once or twice before, so he recognised all the signs of an attack of the giggles, but he had no idea what had brought this one on. What he did know was that he wanted to stick around until it was over, because the sound of Laura Roslin's laughter was better than any sound he could think of.

"Laura?" he said.

She dissolved into laughter. Waving her hands helplessly, she gasped, "That's it, Bill. I can't believe it. There go our reputations. What were you thinking? Gods...coming out of there, doing up your clothes, and me standing here like this...'Just what the doctor ordered'? 'Feel like a new man'!" She dissolved into giggles, then recovered sufficiently to continue, "Did you see Tory's face? Do you have any idea what's going through her mind right now? Or what she's going to put me through tomorrow?" She raised a hand and waved a finger at the door Tory had just passed through. "She's out there right now thinking scathing things about how I need to keep her informed about my sex life, and about how public knowledge of our lascivious behaviour could ruin my chances in the upcoming election!"

Still not quite caught up to Laura's train of thought, a part of Bill's brain busied itself with noting her appearance. She looked beautiful. He'd been too preoccupied to notice before, but her hair tumbled about her shoulders enchantingly, and the deep-coloured silken robe she wore was enticingly thin and clung to her perfectly. He felt a familiar surge of male response to her that he had to firmly squash.

The other, slower part of his brain finally managed to visualize the situation as Laura described it and as Tory must have seen it. Adding things up to their sum, he looked at her with concern.

"Laura, this isn't funny. The last thing you need before the election is a rumour that-" He stopped abruptly, then attempted, "That we-" he paused again, and gestured with his hands, unable to find the words.

She struggled to control herself. "I can take care of it tomorrow. Tory will understand. That," she giggled, "or she'll conduct a focus group to determine public opinion on our relationship."

"She wouldn't!"

His dismayed roar and the appalled look on his face sent her off into peals of laughter. She walked over and collapsed onto the sofa, leaning over to hold her stomach as she laughed. Finally, she calmed enough to assure him that the focus group was improbable and that she'd be able to explain everything in the morning. He nodded uncertainly. "You know her better than I do. I'm sorry. I didn't think."

He wouldn't have, either, she thought fondly. She looked at him and wanted to hug him for being so clueless. They'd come close on more than one occasion to putting attraction into action, but it would never occur to him that anyone would pick up on what they were still skirting around. And it would be beyond him to think that anyone would believe that he and she had done anything before they actually had. She giggled again, then asked him impulsively, "I should really sleep instead, and it's probably rude of me to offer since these are your quarters, but would you like a drink before you go? If my reputation is going to be in tatters for just one night, I should make it a grand gesture, don't you think?"

He looked uncertain for a moment, but decided to do exactly what he felt like doing - which was to stay. He finally smiled. "Sounds good," he said. "I'm awake now, anyway. But let me get it," he ordered. "Ambrosia okay?"

She tilted her head to one side and raised her eyebrows. "You still have some?"

"Of course." He looked at her and grinned wickedly. "I've been saving it for that special I've-just-ruined-a-woman's-reputation moment."

Her eyes twinkled. "In that case, I'd love some."

End Part 2/3

Sorry about this, but I fell into that Tigh Me Up, Tigh Me Down mood...