In an LJ far, far away, there was once talkof discussing Flesh and Bone. That idea gave rise to this.. I do not own the characters mentioned herein, and will make no profit whatsoever from the fruit of my imaginings. I do hope, however, that someone somewhere enjoys what I've done with them.

The Cylon Possibility
By: Mariel


"Laura, I have something to tell you: Adama is a cylon," Leoben whispered.

Laura Roslin stepped back, thrusting him away from herself. Gasping a shocked ...no... no... she tried to brush the words away with a flutter of her hands, but failed. Whispered too closely to her ear, his words settled and clung, quickly taking up residence in her mind just as the cylon had known they would.

Roslin looked across at Loeben and saw the pleasure he took in her shock and fear. She saw satisfaction at what he'd destroyed with those few words... along with a hint of curiosity.

That hint of curiosity sent a sudden chill though her. Had she reacted too strongly? Had her involuntary response to his words given her away?

Or had he known something already?

Her mind cast about for reasoned thought and finally clutched Bill's warning about cylons playing with people's minds. That was what Leoben was doing now, she thought desperately. Playing with her mind. He couldn't possibly know how deeply what he'd said would affect her. He couldn't possibly know that-

Drawing herself up straighter, she looked at him with cold eyes.

Leoben's expression changed, became less certain.

"Put him out the airlock," she ordered curtly.

Whether what Leoben had said was true or not, he would pay for having said it.

-xx-

Sitting at his table and sharing a comfortable drink with him, Laura Roslin regarded William Adama carefully.

Leoben's accusation had definitely affected how she regarded him as Commander of the Fleet.

It had done little, however, to change how she felt about him as a man. The cylon's whispered words had come too late for that.

The lighting in Bill's quarters was warm and calming and, as always, she felt comfortable here. The books piled against the walls, the paintings on the walls, the wildly eclectic assortment of items scattered on every available surface...it all resonated the spirit of the man who sat comfortably across from her.

She looked at him and smiled. When he smiled back, there was affection in his gaze and familiar humour in his expression.

It reassured her.

"Hell of a risk you took today," he commented.

"It was something I had to do."

"Care to tell me why?" he asked.

She smiled somewhat uncomfortably and gave him the 'a president doesn't have to explain' answer she knew he'd hate.

He gave her reply a good-humoured salute with his glass and questioned her no further. Her heart warmed. He trusted and respected her enough not to press.

She looked down. He couldn't possibly be a cylon. Oh, gods, please...

Bill examined her for a moment, then asked curiously, "Something wrong?"

The question was spoken as a professional inquiry but with an intimate glow in his eyes that let her know he cared about the answer in a more than professional way. Even as her sense of danger increased, her heart continued to soften. Bill knew what he did to her, knew his effect. But he was gentle with it, and she had always trusted him. Leoben's words had damaged some of that trust, but other feelings she had for the man sitting across from her appeared to have remained intact.

"No, nothing at all," she assured him, knowing he would know her words weren't quite true. He knew her well, and she liked that. Or had, anyways. It made their interactions wonderfully intimate and warm, and she held that intimacy tightly to her heart.

He captured her gaze for a moment and she sat back, a sudden realisation striking her square in the gut.

Her heart.

The talks, the flirting, the arguing... the heady, secretive, power sex...

He held her heart.

She closed her eyes for a brief second, not wanting her thoughts to continue because now wasn't the time to chance upon such revelations, now wasn't the time-

But it was too late to stop her thoughts. It wasn't just about a natural release of tension and an escape from reality anymore. It wasn't just about great sex and a great but momentary connection, either. Somewhere, at some point, it had become all about warmth and communication and safety and caring.

She was in love with him.

In love, perhaps, with a machine

A cylon.

She shook her head slightly, as though to dislodge the thought. The possibility frightened her and shocked her, but she was wrapped in the madness of her emotions and knew that certain truths - like the fact that she still wanted to frak him six ways to Picon and back - remained unaltered. Cylon or no, William Adama attracted her, drew her to him in heated, wonderful ways no other man had. If she were sitting here with a cylon, then here was a machine made more human than the human she had loved before the world ended. Here was a machine so human it made her more human; showed her ways of being human she had forgotten; and made her feel very human things that she had never felt before.

Her gaze strayed in his direction.

And he had helped her and the remaining scraps of humanity left in the universe to survive the end of the world.

How could he be a cylon?

Still trying to sort out her thoughts, she examined the strong hands that toyed with his glass. She liked his hands. Liked both the strength of them and the gentleness in them. Fighting back the memories of them playing across her skin, she blinked slowly. Bill was like his hands: strong, but with an underlying gentleness few got to see. He had given her warmth and love and comfort and pleasure in a universe that had very little of it to spare.

He couldn't be cylon.

He had placed no insidious thoughts in her mind; he'd killed none of her people.

He had protected her, protected the fleet...

And if he were...

Looking at him obliquely, every fibre of her being swore that he was not, but she needed to know for sure. Needed to protect more than just herself from him if necessary. Examining the glass of water she held, she resolved that she would figure out a way to discover the truth. She would investigate, observe, and question until she was satisfied. Tomorrow, she would make it a priority to ask Balter where he stood with his cylon detector.

When it was ready – and she'd already been promised that it would be soon - Bill would be the first one tested.

Another decision, however, needed to be made more quickly. By rights she should have been looking forward to an evening that culminated in making love with him. She should have been anticipating the feel of his sheets sliding against her back as his mouth and hands worked their magic on her body. She should have been anticipating the wonderful sensation of his skin against hers, the taste of him in her mouth, and the warm, aching feeling she felt as she arched up towards him when he entered and pleasured her.

She felt Bill's eyes on her, and knew he was as affected as she by the sense of awareness that now sat at the table with them. As always, they had planned this evening well in advance, carefully orchestrating both their schedules and the schedules of others close to them. All so that they could have these precious few hours to themselves. Alone. Without remark.

His body was coiled, waiting for her.

She raised her glass to her lips and took a sip. Truth be told, she was feeling all the ardent expectation she always did. It was affected, perhaps, by Leoben's warning, but it was still there, thrumming through her insistently because she made love with Bill, not some unknown cylon. She made love with a man who had shown compassion and understanding and strength and determination. She made love with a man whose skin felt solid beneath her touch, whose lips traced patterns on her body she liked to memorise. A man whose arms held her tightly when he whispered words meant for only her ears.

Was she crazy to think this way, knowing what she knew?

Or what Leoben wanted her to think, she corrected herself firmly.

She set down her glass and finally lifted her eyes to meet his.

She found that they were the eyes she knew. They were the familiar, warm blue pools of acceptance and invitation she knew. They were kind and honest, respectful and, here in the privacy of his quarters, openly affectionate... And they held her heart in a warm embrace.

Not cylon. Surely not a cylon.

Leoben's words may have seared her brain, but William Adama, damn him, had gotten to her heart and body.

Maybe even to her soul.

She exhaled softly, her decision made. Cylon or no, she would stay. In the company of the enemy, perhaps, but an enemy in the form of a man she loved and drew strength and satisfaction from. The dichotomy of that would have to be examined later. Cylon or no, he would not harm her tonight; no damage to the Fleet would occur while they made love. Cylon or no, she was not ready to leave him. Not until she knew for sure.

And he wasn't; she was certain of that. He couldn't be...

Some change in her must have spoken to him, for Bill set his now empty glass down and rose. She watched as he walked slowly around the edge of the table, came to a stop in front of her, and put out his hand. She took it and allowed him to draw her to her feet. When she stood before him, her body almost touching his, he carefully removed her glasses and placed them on the table beside his own. Turning back towards her, he placed gentle hands on each side of her face. His warm thumbs softly caressed her cheeks while he looked at her, his blue eyes dark and fathomless.

He made her feel like a treasure he could never have enough of.

"Laura," he whispered, just before his lips met hers...

The universe receded. Winding her arms around his neck, she pressed herself against him and gave herself up to the man she knew…

-xx-

"If I'm a cylon, then you're really screwed," he told her the next morning.

His voice was amused, his eyes warm and affectionate. In them, she could see heated memories of the hours they'd shared the night before.

A pulse of awareness shot through her. Pure, sensual, powerful.

Cylon or not, she knew he spoke the truth.

End