Variation 2: What Is Unspoken

Bill Adama began unbuttoning his uniform jacket the moment he stepped into his quarters. It had been a long day, filled with reports and meetings, and the restructuring of military personnel with the influx of crew from Pegasus.

Some support officers were temporarily assigned to assist civilian government staff, namely Laura Roslin’s chief aides, in beginning a head count and coordinating efforts to get supplies to the various ships, and to manage the needs of the civilians now living aboard Galactica. It was a lot of work, but his people were up to the task, enthusiastic even, so were the civilians.

Clearly, everyone was relieved to be off New Caprica.

One of the most relieved was in his quarters, hard at work when he arrived. She was curled up on his couch with folders stacked to either side of her, on the chest in front of her, and had one open in her lap. Her glasses were perched on the end of her nose and she was tapping a pen back and forth between her fingers as she read. He noted her shoes sitting beside the couch and smiled.

“What’s all that?”

His question drew her gray-green eyes to him. They peered at him over the top rim of her glasses. “Have I complained lately about Tory’s efficiency?” she replied.

Bill chuckled despite the exasperation evident in her features. It wasn’t extreme but definitely there, especially when she gestured to the folders. “Can you believe she got all this together yesterday and this morning? I’m almost afraid to see what she’ll have tomorrow.”

Making his way to the service cart, he asked, “Having second thoughts?”

Laura snorted as she watched Bill fix himself a glass of water. “Let’s just say I’d prefer to be grading essays or math tests,” she told him then asked, “Would you pour me one of those, too, please?”

He did so and brought it to her. “Mmmm, thank you.” She took a sip and watched him finish unbuttoning his uniform jacket one handed as he took a seat on the chest, beside her stack of folders.

“How’d the meeting with Zarek go?” he asked then downed a swallow of his water.

“Well,” Laura said then paused. She wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to react to what she had to tell him next, but she was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like it. “I offered him the vice presidency.”

At her announcement, his eyes narrowed in disbelief. He then looked down into his water. “You sure you wanna do that?” That was it, a question, calmly asked, an indication that he would defer to whatever she chose, that he trusted her choice even if he didn’t necessarily understand it.

“Can’t say that it’s something I ever anticipated considering much less actually making the offer,” she replied. “But he spent four months in detention on New Caprica because he refused to condone Baltar’s actions. That speaks to something. And he says he wants to be a part of things and not just look on from the outside,” she continued. “I believe him.”

Blue eyes slowly returned to hers. They held her rapt. “Do you trust him?”

Laura smiled gently. “I wouldn’t go that far. I just think it’s wise to keep him close.”

Her admiral looked at her a few moments longer, his expression probably inscrutable to most everyone but her but she saw that he was satisfied with her reasoning. He stood. “I’m going to shower before dinner,” he rumbled as made his way toward the back of his quarters.

From her seat on the couch, Laura saw him set his water glass on the table then stop at his closet. There, he shed his uniform tunic, sat in the chair and pulled off his shoes, his socks and trousers followed.

Watching him slowly, methodically undress, filled her with a contentment at once familiar and strange. She was comfortable with it, as comfortable as he was in doing it. It seemed natural for them to be here like this, working together, eating together, sleeping together … showering together, she mused, watching him strip off his tanks.

As he headed toward the lavatory, he spared a glance in her direction and a single word. “Coming?”

Bill didn’t wait for her answer. He already knew it, had known what it would be when he felt her eyes on him as he undressed. The feel of her hands sliding down his back as he turned the water on in the shower only confirmed it.

“I locked the hatch,” she whispered, lips touching the back of his neck. Her voice had that low, humming quality that it always got when she was…

She moved away from him and he turned to see her pulling her shirttails from her skirt. Bill stepped up to her and began working on the buttons. She went to help but he stopped her, wanting the privilege himself. He hadn’t done this, not like this, in months, and he wanted to do it now. To slowly reveal her to his eyes, to draw out the anticipation, to unwrap this beautiful woman so that he could enjoy and delight her. “Let me,” he said softly.

Laura let him, trusted him, watched his fingers deftly undo each button. Her breaths became thready as he skimmed his touch lightly over the material as he worked. There was such tender, deliberate sensuality in how he moved, making her tremble, filling her with want of his hands on her skin, touching her in the same way.

She got her wish when he parted the material and moved the sides back, directing her shirt down and off her body. Fingertips rose and skimmed across her upper arms and shoulders, down over her collarbones to the swells of her breasts, where he bowed and placed his mouth, kissing his way across one to the other with soft, open-mouthed kisses.

With a hum, Laura placed one hand on his head, fingers raking through his hair, matching the tenderness in the caresses of his lips. The other rounded his shoulder and stroked his upper arm. She decided she would never tire of touching him, feeling the movement of muscles beneath his warm skin, the strength contained within. There was immense satisfaction in knowing that he was hers and hers alone to touch, in knowing that he wanted it that way and that she wanted it that way, too

“Bill,” she whispered as his hands skimmed around to unfasten her bra. He righted himself as he eased it down her arms and off. He met her gaze as he cupped her gently, molding the soft mounds with palms and fingers, thumbing the caps to stiffness.

Breath quickening, Laura ran her hands over his arms, from shoulder to wrist and back again. Her body came alive under his touch and she knew she had a similar effect on him. She saw it in his eyes, the darkening of cobalt to midnight as desire took ever-firmer root, intensifying as it only ever had with Bill. Seeing it sent her own skyrocketing. Cause and effect. Action and reaction. Man and woman.

Laura slipped her arms beneath his and moved closer to him, stepping between his feet. He slid his arms around her and drew her closer still, bringing her chest to his. Leaning in, she kissed him soft and slow, tasting him the way she’d thought of doing many times throughout the day, between the responsibilities that were reasserting themselves in her life, and his. She had just a few more days remaining as Laura Roslin, without official title, and she wanted to enjoy them and the moments like these that the gods afforded them, to fulfill daydreams and fantasies, to just get lost in the warmth, peace and desire she felt when she was with him.

She felt all those things here and now, locked away in the privacy and safety of his quarters, half naked in his embrace. She leaned into him, hands sliding up his back while his own moved in mirror, sank into her hair and held her head as they kissed.

Steam from the shower rose around them, pouring out of the stall as the water continued to run. Laura longed to feel it on her skin and his, to run her hands over his slick body and to feel his on her.

Hands moving down, down, she pushed his boxers from his hips. His hands moved in echo, to the zipper on her skirt. Down it went, then her panties, leaving them standing briefly in a pool of their clothing before they stepped out of the fabric and into the shower.

Laura faced the water, let it rain over her a few moments then reached and adjusted the temperature to just right. Bill turned her back to face him when she was done, a broad hand coming up to tenderly stroke her cheek. His gaze raked over her face smoldering and yet filled with a gentleness she’d come to adore, and desire. It made her feel…

“Beautiful,” he whispered then kissed her.

It was a languid melding of their mouths, as gentle as his touch and gaze, drawing her ever close to him, until their bodies were fitted together, perfectly and intimately aligned. It was powerful, sensual and heated, delicate, loving and peaceful. It was everything it should be and Laura reveled in it, reveled in Bill, the potent effect he had on her, the feelings she felt when they were like this, not a care in the world except each other, the next moment, the next sensation, the next breath.

Bill ran his hands over his lover’s body as she rose against him, desire taking hold of her in that way he loved. Her normal reserve was gone, every ounce of it, thought but a memory for her always churning mind. She was feeling now, only feeling and he was feeling with her, losing himself in her.

His fingers and palms mapped the smooth expanse of her back, the roundness of her behind, the perfect curve of her hips. His thumbs stroked her flanks, the soft sides of her breasts, brushing back and forth while his fingers massaged her shoulder blades. She was all woman, willing and warm, passionate and giving … loving. She was Laura, his Laura. He had to share so much of her with others, but this part of her she shared only with him, something that both elated and humbled him.

Yes! He thrilled feeling her hands take hold of his face, cradling him to her as her mouth opened beneath his. He tasted her, moaning into her as her tongue stroked his. She hummed in response, sending his desire higher.

He turned her, putting her back to the wall, pressed close to her, mouth dropping from hers to her neck. He kissed here and there, there and here, adoring the elegant length, worshiping the softness of her skin with lips and tongue, gentle nibbles of teeth. She moaned in response, hummed and gasped as her fingers caressed his cheek and threaded into his hair, as her body moved against his.

He wanted her, needed her and this with her. To forget everything but this. To set aside the overwhelming responsibility of saving and protecting humanity and just feel what it was to be human. To be a man and a woman with needs and desires, emotional and physical, to love again, deeper and fuller than ever before. It had never been like this with Carolanne. Not even in their best years.

Never like this, Bill thought as Laura slid a leg up his to hook around his hip. Carolanne had never wanted this. Sex, yes. But this … the connection with him … she had shunned. Laura didn’t, though. The brilliant, beautiful redhead welcomed it, in spite of the fact it frightened her on some level. Her brave acceptance filled him with a deep happiness, made him whole.

At her whispered request, he joined his body to hers, sinking into her wet warmth. She was hotter, more comforting and cleansing than the water falling around them, and her soft sigh of welcome fell on his ears like a blessing.

“Laura,” he rasped in acknowledgement, in love, then desire when she arched and brought him deeper still.

Gently, purposefully, he curled one hand around her thigh as her hands, cradling his face, drew him up so that she could kiss him. He gave herself over to the soft loving of her mouth, eased his other hand behind her to splay across her lower back, steadying her as he began moving in her. The slow retreat and advance of his hips, his leisurely plumbing of her depths made them both moan. 

Laura pressed her brow to his then leaned her head back against the wall, touching her lips to his forehead. He leaned into the press of her mouth and gripped her tighter, pulled her closer. Hips pushing quicker, he reached deeper into her, drawing throaty whimpers and hums, breathy gasps from her. Closer and closer, he took her toward completion, with an unflagging determination and hastening need.

Gods, he felt so good, made her feel so good. Being with him like this, it was…

“Oh my gods … Bill,” she groaned when he hitched her leg higher and pushed deeper still. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and clung to him as he made love to her. His eyes were the deepest of blues above hers and they watched her with an intoxicating mix of emotions as he plunged in and out of her. She touched his face, longing to caress the feelings he displayed, a tangible acknowledgement of the intangible, fingertips riding the weathered terrain of a cheek then skimming across the fullness of his lower lip.

Around them, hot jets of water fell and steam rose. The air was thick with moisture and heady with the scent of them. Laura gasped it in great gulps, her mind and body threatening to shatter from the pleasurable glide of him in and out of her flesh, at the feel of his chest and belly sliding against hers, at the possessive way he held her. Gods, and how he continued to look at her.

Bill felt Laura’s end coming in the endless trembling of her flesh and the eager pumping of her hips and saw it in the smoke-green of her eyes, just before her lids fell shut with a cry of release.

“Yes, Laura!” he called in exhilaration at seeing her surrender and in welcome of his own finish. It was good and right. So incredibly right.

< Variation 1: And So It Begins | Variation 3: Connecting by Candlelight >