Chapter 3 - Star gazing
"How soon until it gets fixed?" Adama asked the head of the maintenance crew.
The woman shrugged.
"We're tracing through control circuits now," she said. "Could be ten minutes, could be a couple of hours."
He looked at Dee, who was standing at his side.
"Where are the Quorum delegates at the moment?"
"In Joe's bar," she replied.
"And the President?"
"Her shuttle is inbound. ETA seven minutes."
He ran a frustrated hand through his short cropped hair. "We can't ask the Quorum of Twelve to meet in the bar!"
"Sir, I was thinking," Dee suggested in that quiet manner of hers. "What about the observation deck? It's large enough, and has sufficient seating."
He nodded: it was a good suggestion. And the only practical place they had, considering the problem with the ward room.
"Very well. Find Helo. Get him to escort the delegates to the observation deck in half an hour. Meanwhile, you go and roust people out of there, and scare up a cleaning crew if you think the room needs it."
"Yes sir," she said crisply. "And the President?"
"I'll escort her to my office, to wait."
He caught a look flash across his daughter-in-law's face, before she schooled it into proper military impassiveness. It was a mixture of curiosity, speculation and a certain amount of 'oh gross!'
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Bill waited in parade-ground at-ease stance as the raptor was brought into the hangar bay and its hatch unsealed. Waited patiently for his first glimpse of Laura Roslin since their date at the pyramid game four days before.
The bi-weekly papers had been distributed two days ago, and they'd made the front page on all of them - complete with pictures. Most of the articles that went with the pictures were sheer gossip and speculation, but some were ascribing darker motives for the romance. If those stories were to be believed, either Laura was trying to gain tighter control of the military, or he was trying to get his hands on the presidency.
Actually, he wouldn't mind get his hands on the presidency… although, not in the way the reporters were suggesting. He repressed a wayward grin at the thought as the raptor door lifted and the Presidency herself was before him. He offered her his hand to help her disembark, aware of the eyes of the deck gang on them.
"Madam President," he greeted her.
"Admiral Adama," she returned with equal formality, although he could see the smile lurking in her eyes.
"I'm afraid there's been a problem with the environmental controls in the ward room," he said as he escorted her from the hangar deck. "We've had to move your meeting to the Observation lounge."
She nodded understanding.
"Until we can get the new venue set up, the Quorum members are currently in Joe's Bar," he made a face, which she echoed. "Maybe another twenty minutes, or so."
Laura turned to her aide, who was trailing along behind them unobtrusively.
"Tory, would you mind keeping an eye on things in there?"
"Of course, Madam President."
"In the meantime, you can wait in my office." Cognizant of the ears listening in on their conversation, he deliberately didn't say "cabin". It seemed that most of his crew happened to be just wandering through the hallways that connected the hangar deck and his office. Most of them managed professional faces, but he caught more than a few grins once they had passed. Maybe they thought that the "environmental malfunction" was just an excuse for him to get Laura into his cabin.
Once through the hatch of his cabin, Laura let out a sigh of relief.
"Well, that was fun," she commented. "Is it going to be that way every time I visit Galactica?"
"Hopefully not," he replied. "They're just getting used to the 'old man' having a life."
She caught sight on the stack of newspapers on his desk, and rifled through them.
"I thought that was a nice shot," she said, holding one of them up for his inspection. "I was thinking of asking for a copy."
He joined her at the desk, pulling his glasses on. The picture showed a candid moment of the two of them at the ball game. They were both on their feet, an arm around the other, and laughing. Laura looked so natural… so happy.
"If you do, get me a copy as well," he requested, looking over her shoulder. He removed his glasses, and laid them back on the desk. "Tigh brought me copies of all the papers with my morning briefing - couldn't keep the smile off his face."
"Did he say anything?" she asked, turning to face him.
"That it was about frakking time," he replied softly, suddenly very aware of their proximity and also very aware the fact that this was the first time they'd been together - alone - since they had changed the nature of their relationship. Laura's eyes darkened and she moistened her lips, her gaze dropping to his lips. He could feel his breathing becoming faster. 'Work time, Bill,' his mind protested as he reached out and cupped her cheek. He stopped listening to his mind as her hands touched his chest and slid up around his neck.
"Aren't we still on the clock?" she whispered as their lips edged closer.
"I won't tell if you don't."
A soft brush of lips followed - so soft as to barely be considered a kiss. Then another, lips parting. His hand dropped from her waist to her lower back, the other cupping the back of her head, drawing her closer. The kiss became more heated, lips sliding against each other; breathing becoming harsher; hands wandering…
Knock… knock.
Laura pulled back with a rueful smile.
"Still on the clock," she reiterated. She touched her lips, eyes fastened on his. "Lipstick," she warned.
He swiped at his lips and undogged the hatch to find Lee standing there.
"Admiral." He looked over his father's shoulder at the other occupant of the cabin, who was leaning nonchalantly against the desk. "Madame President." His expression was relieved. Relieved that he hadn't interrupted anything, perhaps.
"Captain Apollo," Laura smiled back.
"Dee says the observation gallery is ready for the President's meeting, sir."
"Thank you, Captain," Laura said as she gathered her papers. "Would you mind showing me the way? I don't think I've ever been to that part of Galactica."
"Of course, Ma'am," Lee agreed.
"Admiral," Laura nodded back at him as they left. "We'll finish our briefing after my meeting with the Quorum."
"Of course, Ma'am."
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Five hours later, Toy informed him that the monster Quorum session was over.
"How's she doing," he asked the young woman as she exited the observation lounge.
"Ready to tear her hair out," she said, looking frazzled herself. "You might want to keep your briefing short."
He nodded acknowledgement and stepped into the lounge. The lights were dimmed and it took him a moment to spot Laura's figure slumped on one of the window-side couches.
"That good, huh?" he asked softly, sinking onto the comfortable seat beside her.
"I think my head's going to explode," she groaned, rubbing her temples.
"C'mere." He grasped her shoulder, encouraging her to shift around until her back was to him. Gathering her hair - and resisting the urge to run his fingers through it - he tucked it over her shoulder, then ran his hands over her shoulders and neck, feeling the knots of tense muscles.
She sighed, relaxing into his touch. As he worked in silence, he could feel the tension leaving her body.
"If you're ever looking for another career, I'll be happy to write you a recommendation," she said with a contented sigh.
He smiled, gathering her against him.
"I'll keep that in mind."
They sat there for a while in a comfortable embrace, looking out at the stars.
"I'm surprised to find a place like this on a warship," she said at last. "Galactica has always seemed so utilitarian to me: I didn't think it had any windows at all."
"Windows tend to be a structural liability for a warship," he replied.
"So why have this one?"
"It's in a fairly protected position, which gives it some protection," he explained. "But that's not the reason for its existence. Years ago, the shrinks found having windows helps combat claustrophobia - which is always a problem on warships." He paused, smiling. "And of course, since we've been on the run, it's a place where young people go to… get to know each other."
She twisted in his arms, so she was still half-reclining, but looking up at him.
"So we're in the local make-out spot," she smiled, reaching up and running her fingers through his hair.
"Uh-huh."
There was no more conversation as lips touched and parted; hands explored - innocently at first, but then straying into forbidden territory as the kisses grew more heated. He pulled her shirt untucked, and caressed the bare skin beneath, reaching higher…
The lights in the room snapped on.
"Okay, lovebirds," a strident, cheerful voice came from the back of the room. "Time to make way for the next group…"
The petty officer who was in charge of scheduling the room for recreational purposes came to a stuttering halt as she realized just who she had interrupted.
"Admiral… I…"
Laura turned her face into his shoulder and he removed his hand from beneath her blouse.
"As you were, petty officer," he ordered. He could feel Laura's body shaking against his, and could feel an uncharacteristic blush heating his cheeks. "We'll be out in a minute."
The woman almost ran from the room, the hatch clanging shut behind her.
Laura lifted her head and he discovered she was laughing, though a blush also stained her cheeks.
"Oh, did you see that poor woman's face!" she gasped, when she could talk again. "She looked like she'd walked in on her parents making out."
She climbed to her feet, tucking her shirt back in and smoothing her hair.
He followed suit, refastening his tunic, embarrassment still showing on his face.
Her hand cupped his cheek. "Don't worry so much about it, Bill," she said. "Yes, it will be all over the fleet before morning, but remember: we're people too, not just our offices. We're entitled to a moment's happiness now and then."
He covered her hand with his, pressing a kiss into the palm, before taking her arm and escorting her from the room.
Heads held high, they strolled toward the hangar bay past a crowd of curious onlookers and one red-faced petty officer.
