The icy water feels like a thousand pins pricking her skin, knocking the air from her lungs before she pushes off the lake bottom and heads to the surface.

"Bill! Dammit! You told me it wasn't cold!" Laura gasps searching for him in the lake. He had convinced her to jump in from the dock without testing the temperature, promising it was comfortable.

"Gotcha!" he laughs, splashing water from behind her.

"My new husband is a damned liar! You're going to pay for this!" she exclaims through chattering teeth swimming toward him.

He pulls her into his arms, her naked body pressed against him in the cold water of the mountain lake. Neither one of them had packed bathing suits, Bill considered it unnecessary since it's a private lake. Besides, he liked the idea of skinny-dipping with Laura.

"I'll warm you up," he says pulling her legs around his hips and wrapping his arms around her. His mouth covers hers in an attempt to chase the chill away, kissing her thoroughly and holding her close. "Your nipples are extra hard."

"I wonder why! It must be 50 degrees in this lake!"

"More like 60. Let's hope the snakes stay away."

"Snakes?! I'm getting out." Her arms begin to thrash about as she tries to push away from him.

"No, no, no, no – I'm kidding! No water snakes here. Just a single very friendly one," he teases, pushing the tip of his cock into her folds.

"It's a lot warmer now, Bill."

The fireplace is scorching the skin on her back, but it doesn't slow Laura down. Her hips grind into Bill, his hands on her breasts, fingers pinching her nipples, the shadows of their lovemaking cast on the walls with the dancing firelight. The rug is soft, kind to her knees, and her legs are spread as wide as they will go as she bounces atop him.

"Billlll," she moans as perspiration pours down from her hairline to her neck, then between her breasts. It catches on her navel before it continues its path down her stomach and finally onto his abdomen, leaving both of them covered in a sheen of sweat from her riding him for the past twenty minutes. "I want to do this all night."

He mounts her from behind pulling her hair in his hand, slamming into her causing her to grunt with each movement. The bottle of lube is in his free hand, and he squirts it on her backside then tosses it aside before rubbing it in, teasing her asshole with his finger, then slipping the plug inside of her. "Tell me you like that," he growls, knowing how it makes her feel.

"I love it. Frak me harder," she moans with pleasure.

"You don't give the orders tonight," he replies with a firm slap to her ass, then a quick flick to the end of the plug causing it to vibrate inside of her.

"Please, Bill. Please do that again," she begs.

The silk scarves are gentle but strong as he lies prone in the middle of the bed with his wrists bound to the headboard. Laura emerges from the bathroom in her leather bustier and thong, a riding crop in her left hand.

"What – what is that?!" Bill asks, his eyes huge and fixated on the crop, failing to see that she has lube and a plug in her other hand.

"You will not speak unless spoken to because you are a damned liar," she snorts, rolling his hips to the side and smacking his bare ass with the crop. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand." This side of her is sort of frightening to him, but he decides to play along for a while. There's always the safe word if he feels the need to bail.

Another firm smack on his ass later, she squirts warm lube on his crack and on the plug, holding it in front of his face to taunt him.

"You didn't think I was the only one that was going to have this shoved in their ass, did you?"

"Warm?" he asks as she lays with her back flush against his chest in the hot tub while sipping on a glass of red wine.

"Mmmmmh, yesss," she replies as a few early snow flurries fall from the sky around them, providing a light dusting around the lake. "It's so beautiful and peaceful here. You can almost hear the snow hitting the ground."

His hand slips under her right thigh, pulling it up so that he can slide his cock inside of her. Their movements produce small waves in the hot tub that splash over the side, causing steam to rise when the water hits the cold deck.

"Do we ever have to leave?" she sighs as they make love.

"We'll come back again someday."

The raptor lands at the private pad located next to the building Bill works in at the Caprica Shipyards. Laura helps him unload their luggage into a waiting limousine, taking special care of her wedding gown which she will pay to have cleaned and preserved. It's after dark on Friday evening, and there's a cool chill in the air much like there was at the cabin.

The sounds and smells of the city overwhelm her senses after enjoying two weeks of clean air and idyllic surroundings. It's a reminder that she's back to reality again, and they both must return to their jobs on Monday.

The look of melancholy on her face prompts Bill to run the back of his fingers down her cheek, asking her for her thoughts.

"I miss it already. But it'll be good to see family again."

"I know how you feel."

The limo drives away with them in the back, Laura staring silently out the side window as the neon lights of business signs pass by in a blur outside. She always considered herself a city girl until now. Two weeks alone with Bill in a mountain cabin by a lake has changed that. The intrinsic beauty in solitude has revitalized her soul and she senses an even stronger connection with her new husband. It's a wonderful start to their lifetime together, and she feels the need to celebrate with loved ones.

"How do you feel about hosting a dinner party Sunday night? Friends and family. Maybe Saul and Ellen, Jean, your parents, daddy, Sandra, and Cheryl? It could be something simple like pasta and we could ask our guests to bring a side dish."

"That's an excellent idea," Bill replies with a warm smile. "You read my mind."

"Let's hope the snakes stay away."

"What? Bill, where are you?"

Her arms and limbs splash around the water searching for her husband, and she frantically looks toward the shore but finds it empty.

"BILL?! This isn't funny! Where are you?" she calls. "BILL?!" her cry echoes across the water and up the mountain.

"No, no, you can't be gone," she sobs as her eyes search the lake.

"The dying leader knows one true love," Zeus' voice booms from above.

"Stop it!" she screams at him, slapping her palms on the water. "Stop speaking in riddles!" she yells spinning around toward the shore.

A small child stands facing her, a girl, and she brings her finger to her lips to calm Laura. "Shhhhhhhhhh."

"Who are you? Where did you come from?"

The little girl shakes her head, then points toward the raptor sitting next to the cabin. As Laura emerges from the water onto the shore, the girl runs from her, leading her to the raptor. By the time Laura catches up with her, she has disappeared.

The hatch is open, so she carefully climbs onto the wing and steps inside.

"No! Bill!" she screams finding him crumpled face down on the floor in his flight suit and helmet. Collapsing next to him, she rolls him over, revealing a smashed face shield and vacant eyes.

"Oh, my Gods! No, Bill, NO!" she screams shaking his body, trying to revive him. "Come back to me! Come back to me!"

The little girl steps from the cockpit of the raptor, watching Laura as she hits Bill trying to bring him back to life. Her hand reaches down to Laura's shoulder, startling her.

"Protect her," the little girl whispers.

"Laura! Laura! Wake up!" Bill holds her wrists to keep her from punching him, her hands balled in fists swinging through the air while she sobs in her sleep. "Laura!"

"No, you can't be dead!" she cries.

"I'm right here, Laura," he says pulling her close and repeatedly kissing her face. "Wake up. You're having a nightmare."

"Bill?" she whimpers opening her eyes and seeing his concerned face.

"Take some deep breaths, you're practically hyperventilating."

"Hold me. It was terrible. I lost you in the lake, then a little girl led me to the raptor, and I found you inside. Your helmet was smashed and your eyes…" she gasps. "Your eyes were dead."

"I'm not dead. I'm right here," he says soothingly while staring into her terror filled eyes. "It was just a bad dream. Breathe with me."

A few minutes pass and she begins to calm down, her breathing becoming more even. She's snuggled into him, her ear pressed against his chest, her hand making delicate swirly patterns on his skin like she's afraid to stop touching him.

"I like listening to your heartbeat," she says as he holds onto her tightly with his chin on top of her head. "I'm starting to feel better."

"That was a bad one, wasn't it?"

"The worst. And the weird thing was Zeus spoke to me again. More riddles. I'm really beginning to hate him."

"What did he say this time?"

"The dying leader knows one true love."

"I have no idea what that means."

"Right?" she asks turning her face to him. "He's messing with me. I yelled at him this time."

"What about the girl? Did you recognize her?"

"It's like I knew her, but I don't know how. She appeared out of nowhere, then disappeared after running to the raptor. She reappeared in the raptor and said 'Protect her,' then you woke me up."

"Protect her? Or protect him?"

"She said 'her'. Which doesn't make any sense because I would have thought she was telling me to protect you from something. But you were already dead. I don't know, I don't get it."

He loosens his grip on her just enough to run his hand up and down her arm while he thinks about the possible meaning of the dream. "Hopefully once we get back into a normal routine, you'll stop having these weird dreams."

"Do you think I should start seeing my therapist again? Just to try and figure out what they mean?"

"You could. Or you could wait a week and see if it happens again. You've had a lot of changes in the past couple of weeks. It's not easy being married to me."

"I doubt that's it," she replies resting her head on him again, and he can feel her smile against his chest. "But if you really feel that way, maybe I should see a divorce attorney and end this now. I get to keep the loft."

"Why do you get to keep the loft? I'm the one who found it!"

"I like it, so I've decided it's mine. You can have the ugly cylon war painting hanging over your desk."

"That doesn't seem very fair," he complains.

"Divorce isn't fair, Bill. I'll take what I want, and you can have what's left over," she explains.

"What if I don't want a divorce?"

"Well…I suppose I could suck it up for a while longer, see what happens. You're not the worst guy I've ever been with."

"That's a glowing recommendation after two weeks of marriage. It's good to know you hold me in such high regard. I can tell I have some work to do-", he pauses to kiss her, "-to convince you-", he pulls her on top of him, "-that I'm the best guy you've ever had."

"You are absolutely the best. I love you, Bill. I'm willing to give this marriage thing another two weeks," she giggles.

Dave had called in his takeout order of noodles an hour earlier, but the restaurant is so busy this Saturday night that he struggles to find a place to park and doesn't get inside for another fifteen minutes. JJ spots him from across the room and motions him to the bar.

"We are getting slammed tonight! I'm afraid we don't have your order ready yet. Should be done in another thirty minutes. Can I get you something to drink?"

"What?" he asks, the noise of the patrons and the live band drowning out most of what JJ said.

"Follow me," she says, taking him by the arm back to her office where she shuts the door, dampening the noise.

"Do you want something to drink while you wait? I have some fresh lemonade. On the house."

"Sounds good. But I should pay you."

"Honey, you need to stop insisting on paying me. It's a glass of lemonade and it's from my personal fridge. My treat," she says in an annoyed tone.

"Alright, honey, I would love some free lemonade."

His use of her friendly moniker brings a grin to her face as she pours them each a glass.

"Here you go, Dr. Roslin," she states setting the tumbler before him.

"I go from honey to Dr. Roslin in ten seconds flat. I must be in the doghouse with you," he jokes.

"Sweetheart, I call all my friends honey. Try not to let it go to your head," she winks over her glass of lemonade. "Have you heard from the happy couple yet?"

"Yes, they're home and it sounds like they had a great time."

"How are your other girls? I've heard Cheryl is quite the pyramid player," she says seating herself across from him and sipping on her own glass of lemonade.

"Sandra really likes Craig - he seems to be responsible. Cheryl's had a rough time. She doesn't like Craig at all, but I think it's a jealousy thing. She's actually tried to break them up."

"She's a sweet girl. I hope you weren't too hard on her."

"Did you see her at the end of the reception? Was she dancing the entire time?"

"She was dancing for a while, then she got hungry again and came back here for noodles."

"She did? Do you remember what time that was?"

"I'd say maybe twenty minutes before Bill and Laura left."

"Did you see her in this office?"

"No, but I kept an eye out for her. I found her in the bathroom, sort of crying. She said she bumped into the wall and showed me a big bruise on her arm. I offered to bring her to you, but she said she wasn't done in the bathroom yet. Why?"

"Huh. Did you see anyone else?"

"Like?"

"Did you see Craig?"

"I did now that you mention it. He was coming out of the bathroom when I went back to the dance. He told me he and Sandra were going for a walk by the pond. What's this about, Dave?"

"Cheryl told me this crazy story that when she came in here for noodles, she saw Craig snorting drugs off your desk. And when she talked to him about it, he hurt her arm and told her to keep her mouth shut."

"That doesn't sound like something a four-year-old would make up."

"I didn't believe her because I didn't think she was ever alone with him, plus I caught her lying about some things later when she was trying to break them up. Gods, what if she isn't lying about this?"

"Best to keep a close eye on Sandra and Craig." She senses his discomfort at the realization that Cheryl may be telling the truth, so she decides to change the subject. "How are you doing, Dave?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm fine."

"Have you made a date with anyone yet?"

"Gods, no," he replies rolling his eyes.

"Why not?"

"You're sounding like my therapist."

"Sorry about that. If you wait until you feel ready, it may never happen. You're too nice of a man to live the hermit life. So, ask someone out, even if it's just coffee or something casual. Dates can be anything these days."

"I suppose. There is this one woman at the gym, she gave me her phone number a while ago. She seems friendly."

"There you go! Ask her to have coffee."

"I don't know," he mumbles, gazing into his half-empty glass of lemonade.

"Dave, look at me. You will always love your wife. That will never go away. I think there's a lot more room in your heart than you realize. Sharing a drink with someone doesn't mean you have to marry them, so what's it going to hurt?"

"I hear you, I really do. I'm just not sure if this woman is the one I should ask out. She's always touching me, and I'm not used to it. She finds every excuse she can to put her hands on me."

"She wants to sleep with you."

"You really think so?!"

"Of course!"

"I'm not ready for any sort of commitment or anything serious-"

"Sex isn't a commitment provided you're careful. And it doesn't have to be serious. It's just sex," she replies matter-of-factly.

"I'm just…I'm not…things have changed…" he stammers.

"You were with your wife a long time."

"Yes. I'm out of touch with dating, sex, all of it. I was happily married so I didn't worry about stuff like that. I'm old-fashioned and I'm sure that's not attractive to most women."

"I wouldn't say that. In fact, there are many women who find that extremely attractive. It demonstrates that you can treat a woman properly and love her deeply. Or… you can have meaningless sex. There're probably at least a dozen women in this restaurant tonight that would go home with you."

"A dozen? No way," he laughs shaking his head.

"At least a dozen."

"I don't believe you."

"You're an attractive man, Dave. Women notice you. Several were checking you out when we walked back here. Go sit at the bar for a while. See how many talk to you. I dare you."

"I don't know."

"Consider it practice for when you ask someone out. Your food should be ready any minute, try it until then."

"Alright, I will," he says standing and moving toward the door. "Just so I can prove you wrong."

"Hold on a sec," she says closing the gap between them. "Let me spruce you up a bit."

Her fingers fiddle with the buttons on his polo until all of them are open. She fixes his collar, then runs her hands down his shoulders smoothing the shirt.

"Better?" he asks.

"Mmmm," she hums pushing a section of hair across his forehead that was out of place. "I know - pick that water jug up and do some curls with it."

"Excuse me?"

"Just do it. Your muscles will pop. Here," she says lifting the five-gallon jug into her arms. "You're not going to make me stand here holding this all night, are you? Take it!"

"Fine," he shakes his head as he takes the jug from her.

"Curls. Now."

He stares at her as he does several curls with the jug until she finally tells him to stop.

"Let's put these short sleeves up just a little to show off those biceps," she murmurs, slightly pushing the cuffs up. She steps back to examine her work and a look of satisfaction appears on her face. "Very nice. I think you're ready."

"JJ, I had no idea!" Dave exclaims as she helps him carry his takeout order to the car. "Thank you for rescuing me!"

"The blonde was getting kind of aggressive – I didn't realize she was going to kiss you, and the look on your face – it was classic!" she giggles. "See? I told you women notice you!"

"You were right, I was wrong," he bows to her after placing the carryout boxes in the backseat. "Thankfully, I turned my head in time so she only got my neck," he says wiping his hand on the side of his neck and observing it for lipstick.

"How many phone numbers did you get?"

"A few," he replies fumbling in his pants pocket and pulling out some cocktail napkins.

"Give one a call."

"Most of those women were young enough to be my daughter. Don't you think that's kind of weird?"

"No. Lots of younger women find older men attractive. But be careful, some have daddy issues."

"I'll think about it."

Her hand tugs at his elbow as he's about to get into his car. "Dave, promise me you'll make a date, even if it's just a drink with someone. It doesn't have to develop into anything romantic, but you might make a new friend."

"I'll make you a deal. I'll make a date if you make a date."

"I already have one lined up for tomorrow night."

"I didn't realize – are you serious with this person?"

"Ha! No, I don't do serious. I've discovered through the years that most men aren't comfortable with my success."

"Really? Maybe you aren't dating the right men."

"Or maybe I'm just not interested in anything serious. And quit trying to make this conversation about me when it's supposed to be about you asking someone out. You're very sneaky about changing the subject, Dr. Roslin," she replies, poking him lightly in the chest. "Come back next week and we can talk about how both our dates went. I'll even let you pay for the lemonade next time," she says trying to sweeten the deal.

"I'll come back, and we can talk, but you have to stop calling me Dr. Roslin."

"Alright," she smiles and winks. "You should probably go before the noodles get cold. Have a goodnight, Dave, and say hello to your girls from me."