Grey:

She might think he's an ass right now – and for all the pomp and pretence that he's putting on, he's certainly treating Laura like one, big, political idiot – but she never could resist a man in uniform. Especially one who looks like Commander Adama (Admiral now, she smiles to herself) in his dress greys. She has never thought of grey as such a fascinating colour, until she realises the safety it provides. Watching the way his pins glint against his uniform, contrasted by his slightly tanned skin, Laura can't deny the attraction beginning to build up inside her. Even if it is only physical.

Lost in her own memories, she can't help but shudder at the way that grey has so suddenly betrayed her, becoming a cold and unwavering enemy. The grey of the Cylon centurions (chrome really), the concrete grey of Detention, and the grey of the skies, weeping above them in this blustery time of despair. Yet she still thinks of him, has faith that any day now, Admiral Adama will come to their rescue.

Grey is his home. All battlestars, all over the colonies, are the same unwavering shade of grey. Sharing this one bleak commonality is what gives him comfort in the stars. He is safe in grey, this he knows without a shadow of doubt. Of course, Bill can't say the same for Laura, whose life is in peril because of the grey. The oblique grey that is New Caprica. Laura Roslin, former President, current love, and future permanent inhabitant of the concrete bunker known as Detention, unless he can do something quickly. Worry for her gnaws at the pit of his gut, and he wishes more than ever for her to return safely from that ashen grey into his metallic grey embrace, safely ensconced in the stars once more.

The plan is in motion, now all that's left is to wait, in the veritable grey area.

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