Bill Adama was grinning like a schoolboy. Laura Roslin was on his Battlestar. Laura Roslin was in his quarters. Laura Roslin was on his couch. Laura Roslin was making love with him.

She reached down and ran her fingers across his face, tracing his smile. He kissed her finger tips, and she hummed contently, raising herself slightly before gently lowering back down.

Everything was in slow motion. He concentrated on keeping it that way. This time, he was determined not to rush things.

She thrust against him harder. Instinctively, he pushed up into her. He wanted to fill her completely; feel her completely.

Her eyes shut, her button lip held tightly between her teeth, she whimpered, leaned her head back, and continued to rock lethargically on top of him. He could feel her muscles contracting around his erection with each movement and he let his eyes drift shut, enjoying the heady sensations she was eliciting.

"Commander." Her groan of his title made him harder and more aware of her every touch.

His excitement almost peaked when she started to increase her rhythm – her gentle strokes developed to grinding against him. She moved her upper body and he realised she was positioning herself so that she could drag her clit along and over where they were joined. He reached out and used his thumb to also stimulate friction against it, still leaving her in complete control of their thrusts. He would merely endeavour to keep up his end of the bargain – literally keep it up.

Her breasts swayed and he reached up with his spare hand to cup them in turn, gently tweaking their hardened nubs.

He tried to ignore the familiar rush of an approaching orgasm by closing his eyes again, blocking out the visual stimulation of her all-too-erotic image above him.

Suddenly, her fast and frenzied thrusts ceased, her thighs shuddered and she moaned softly. He thrust up into her hard, let himself relax, and quickly cried out with the pleasure of his own orgasm.

After he caught his breath, he opened his eyes and was momentarily struck dumb by her beauty.

"I was just wondering Commander, why are we on your couch and not in the bed."

"Rack. They're called racks, not beds."

She raised an eyebrow and gave him a teasing look. "Is it a single rack? Do you call them that? Do you have double, queen and king size?"

He chuckled. "It would fit us both with you in this position."

"Mmm. You might not find it comfortable for the whole night."

"I don't know. It could certainly work for me for quite a while. I had this fantasy."

"Fantasy? Commander? This is only our second, um, liaison," she laughed at her own choice of words, "and already you're confiding your fantasies to me?"

"It was pretty tame, but it involved you, me, and this couch."

"You didn't have fantasies about me in your rack?" She ran her hands across his chest.

"I pretty much had fantasies about you everywhere. The rack, this couch, the head, the desk, the floor."

She tipped her head back and laughed. "I'm afraid, Commander, I'm cramping up enough as it is. Any other gymnastics will have to wait for another day." She lifted her legs and squeezed between him and the back of the couch.

"But you said you'd give me a heart attack. I'm keeping up with you so far, Madam Secretary."

She snorted, and then leaned over to kiss him. "Please don't have a heart attack," she whispered.

"I don't plan on it."

"I don't think anyone plans on what life throws at us sometimes."

He watched as the light in her eyes immediately disappeared as if a switch had been flicked in her mind. He suspected his casual teasing might have dredged up memories of her family.

He had noticed there were various photographs of an older couple and two young women scattered around her apartment. There was no doubt they were her parents and sisters. Combining the sadness that he so often saw in her eyes and the fact that she had not contacted them or vice-versa when she was ill, he also reasoned they were deceased.

"You can't hide away and stop living just because something might happen. Just because you might get hurt. When I was 18, I enlisted in the Fleet to fight in the First Cylon War. I fell in love. First love – always seems more important. We went out to the front line. Everything was surreal. It wasn't some war that you heard about on the news anymore. We were the war. I don't know how to describe it. The thing I remember most is how fast everything happened. I ran on adrenaline. I never had time to think about what I was doing, instinct and reflexes took over. Those red eyed bastards seemed to take forever to kill.

"I came back to Galactica. I served here during the war. Everyone was jubilant. The war was over. I couldn't celebrate. Those Vipers that had blown into a million pieces before my eyes weren't empty. My friends had been inside. No hope... Jaycie, the girl I had fallen for, was dead"

He felt Laura stroking his arm. He looked back over to her.

"The point I'm trying to make is that I wouldn't have changed anything. I was devastated. But, at least I'd experienced love. I had that short time with her and that made it all worth it. You can't hide away from love, Laura, on the off-chance that it might be snatched away from you."

"Who said I'm hiding away from love?"

"You aren't?" His question was laced with sarcasm. "Ellison, that kid you frakked? The President?"

He knew he'd gone too far. Her look said it all. She struggled up and off the couch.

"Don't presume that you know me just because we've frakked a few times, Commander."

"I know you, Laura. I can read you."

"Well, you should be able to read me now," she said, throwing her clothes back on with jerky agitated movements.

"Of course I can. You're planning on running out of here because it's all getting too difficult for you. My accusations will just be your convenient excuse."

"Your accusations are all the excuse I need." She stepped into her shoes. "Don't get up, Commander, I'll find my own way to the guest quarters."

0.0.0

Laura had showered and was sitting on the edge of her guest quarter's rack when someone tapped on her hatch.

She stood and opened it, knowing it could only be Bill.

He walked in and looked around the room briefly before picking up her overnight bag from the floor. Neither of them said a word as he busied himself by repacking her bag with her toiletries from the bathroom and her clothes that lay draped over one of the chairs. He took her by the arm and led her to the hatch. His eyes swept the room one last time, checking for any forgotten items.

If any of his crew thought it odd that their outgoing Commander and the Secretary of Education, wearing silk blue pyjamas, were walking through the halls of Galactica together, they never showed it on their faces.

Once in his quarters, he immediately led her to his rack. He peeled the pyjamas from her body and settled her onto his mattress, before undressing and joining her.

They held each other tightly for a while before he finally broke the silence.

"I love you, Laura," he said.

She felt the sting of tears in her eyes. "I know," she replied.

0.0.0

As soon as she entered her apartment, Laura kicked off her shoes and headed for the kitchen to pour a glass of wine. She'd spent almost the entire day on the telephone pleading for donations, and she was exhausted.

She noticed the red light of her answering machine was flickering. She clicked on it to retrieve the message.

"Laura. Bill. I'm leaving for Virgon today. Visiting Saul and his wife, Ellen. I'll probably be there for a couple of weeks. I hope you're well."

He hadn't hung up. She could still hear his steady breathing. She snorted a little. William Adama was a 'heavy breather'.

He had left her two other messages, but she hadn't returned them. She literally had put him on the backburner while she sorted out her professional life.

She should put him out of his misery. She should pick up the phone and tell him that he was the most polite stalker in the Twelve Colonies and that she missed him.

"Goodbye, Laura."

She jumped at the sound of the telephone disconnecting. What did 'goodbye' mean? Goodbye forever? Goodbye until he got back from Virgon?

Laura swore softly. She couldn't believe how many times she acted like a teenager with Bill Adama. A few weeks of not talking to him and that was it? He was deciding they were over? Surely he wasn't that immature.

Since returning from Galactica, there had been no time to brood about their argument or his confession of love. She'd been too busy ensuring all her business in the office was up to date and that she handed over the position to her incumbent with a clean slate.

And she had to attend a press conference, and several dinners with various people she'd worked with over the years.

Then, she immediately began to organise her post-resignation plan.

She opened new bank accounts, obtained permits and the like.

She formally employed Billy Keikeya. Billy had a way with people. He reminded her a lot of Richard when he ran for Mayor. His quiet charm worked like magic and their lobbying efforts reaped immediate rewards.

She was excited by the entire project. She hadn't felt excited about anything in a long time. She felt like she'd woken up after a long hibernation, renewed and rejuvenated. And now she realised she wanted to share that feeling with Bill.

She swore again. Bill Adama wasn't that immature to break off all contact with her just because they had a petty argument and she hadn't called him for a few weeks, was he? Of course not. What was she thinking? She should know that about him by now. He had told her he was in love with her. In her heart she had already known how he felt about her. She also knew in her heart his feelings wouldn't diminish after one argument and a couple of weeks' silence.

She'd call him when he returned from Virgon, invite him out for dinner, and tell him all about her plans for the future.

0.0.0

Bill threw his duffle bag in the doorway and immediately walked over to his answering machine. He could see it blinking in the darkness. He hoped one of the messages was from Laura.

"Dad. I just wanted to say… I'm sorry for…not making it to the Decommissioning Ceremony. Seeing me there would only have reminded you that I was a failure in the Fleet, and would have only added to your disappointment. I wanted you to know I've been accepted into Law school. Who'd have thought? Another lawyer in the family."

The machine beeped. He sighed heavily. He didn't know where Lee got the idea from that he was a failure in the Fleet or that he would ever be disappointed in him. He had spoken to all of Lee's superiors and read all his service history. Lee was clearly a naturally gifted pilot. His problem had been his lack of interest, not his lack of skill.

Bill wasn't keen on the Law idea but he'd be proud of his son no matter what he did. He always knew that Lee had a real interest in the law. He could only hope that he didn't make the same errors in judgement his grandfather had.

The answering machine beeped again. A familiar feminine voice came on the line.

"Boss. Hey. It's me. I…I need help. Yeah, I know, I'm a class A screw up. I'm on Picon. At Fleet HQ. They've got a really nice brig. Much more comfortable racks than Galactica, I tell you. I think I might have frakked up really big this time, Boss. I'm facing four separate Court Martial charges. I need you. Please."

Turning, Bill picked his duffle bag, walked out of his apartment and locked the door behind him.

Outside on the kerb, he hailed a taxi.

"The airport," he told the driver.

0.0.0

Laura picked up her telephone and dialled Bill's number. Again, her call connected to his answering machine. She hung up. He had said he'd be away for two weeks. It was now almost three. She tried not to panic, thinking that something had happened to him while on Virgon.

Maybe she should try and find where he and Saul Tigh were staying...

Billy walked into her new office.

"Your boarding pass, Ms Roslin," he said, handing her a slip of paper. "If there's nothing else, I think I'll head off home to pack."

"Thank you, Billy. No, that's fine. I'll see you at the airport in the morning."

She tidied her desk. She would ring Bill again later. If she didn't get a hold of him tonight, she would miss him before she left.