Verse 2: Sweet Surrender

He was here. Not her admiral, but her lover. His arms were around her, strong and comforting. She could feel him breathing, his warmth even through the flight suit. The latter she knew was her imagination, but she let it run wild, chasing after her heart.

When she’d heard his voice over the comm in the command center of the basestar, when she’d realized he was alone, had abandoned his post…

She didn’t fool herself. He had waited for her, not for his crew or their allies, but her. Any doubts she had about that had fled in the moments after he stepped down off the raptor wing, had vanished the instant those earnest blue eyes had fallen on her.

He loved her, and she loved him, had told him and in the telling had found a lightness of being that she likely had no right to. Here she was in the belly of an enemy ship, her body inflicted with cancer and she was happy and whole and head over heels in love for probably the first and last time in her life.

She owed Elosha, or whoever or whatever it was that had counseled her in the netherworld between jumps, more than she would ever be able to pay.

Tears streaming down her face, Laura let go of the pain and frustration, the anger and fear and just loved Bill Adama. She knew their responsibilities awaited them and they would take them up again, but for the moment and for as long as the universe would allow, she was going to cling to him and the joy.

Gods, she had loved him for so long, had let herself feel it but never like this. She’d never fully acknowledged it to herself or him before now and it felt so very good to do so. And there would be no going back, no denying it, no hiding it. Not any more. They were going to bring it into the open, the quorum, press and fleet be damned. It didn’t matter what they thought, rules and regulations meant nothing when her days were numbered and Earth on the horizon.

Laura needed him and he needed her, and their needs and wants deserved the same consideration as everyone else’s. It was time they did just that.

Turning her face into his neck, feeling the scrape of his whiskers against her cheek, she held him tighter, whispered his name. She heard her own in return and was hugged closer.

When their embrace finally eased, he kissed her gently, a soft pressing of his lips to hers, accompanied by a caress to her jaw. Then he was taking her by the hand and walking her to the raptor, up and inside where they sat.

She smiled seeing the towel draped over the seat behind him, his glasses and half-open shaving kit on the control panel beside her, the gunbelt laying atop a small crate marked “EMERGENCY.” Then her eyes landed on a familiar sight, one she’d thought she’d never see again.

“You found it,” she sighed, reaching out and picking up the singed book. She ran her hand lovingly over the cover and binding, smiling. “I thought it was lost.”

“I was afraid I’d lost you.” It was a whisper but it seemed so loud in the small cabin, made her heart lurch. She drew her gaze up to meet his, her eyes still wet with tears. He was smiling but she saw the aftermath of his fear in the happiness with which he looked at her.

“Not so afraid,” she countered, tilting her head and giving him a knowing look. “You’re out here.”

His gaze slid from her, lids lowering as he dipped his chin in that way he always did when he was amused. She adored that sly grin, felt her heart leap at seeing it, ached to reach out and touch it, skim her fingertips along the line of his mouth and then kiss him. She wanted other things, too, but now was not the time. Later, when they were safe aboard Galactica again.

“We need to talk,” she said, reining in her personal feelings. It wasn’t an easy thing to do and for that she was glad. She never wanted that to be easy.

Bill nodded, looked at her again, gaze serious, focused. There was her admiral. “A lot has happened,” he said.

“We destroyed the hub,” she told him.

“We saw.”

Laura saw a flicker in his gaze, imagined what he must have thought finding the wreckage of the battle and no sign of life. “The hybrid jumped us away once the pilots were recovered. Helo can fill you in on our losses.”

He looked at her a moment, informed, “Lee was sworn in as interim president.”

Laura was surprised and yet she wasn’t. Lee was a good choice, but it begged a question, one she suspected she already knew the answer to but asked anyway. “Zarek?”

“I wouldn’t let him have it,” Bill stated plainly. “Man’s a frakking terrorist.”

Laura snorted. She didn’t trust Zarek either, not really. In recent months, he’d taken to trying to undermine her, using Lee’s own morals as a weapon against her and Bill. She imagined Zarek had tried to provoke the quorum to back him but she doubted they would back him far. They might not like her a lot of the time, but they knew that all their lives depended on Bill and they knew Bill didn’t like Zarek. She didn’t need the details right now, though. They had a bigger issue at hand.

“D’Anna knows the identity of the final five but refuses to divulge them,” she told her admiral. “She is using the information as leverage for her own safety.”

He frowned, reached over and snagged his glasses and put them on. “Suppose that’s understandable considering her chance at resurrecting was just blown all to hell.”

“Mmmm,” Laura nodded. “But it doesn’t help us any. And it’s not just their identities, it’s what their mission is that concerns me most. Then there’s D’Anna herself.”

Blue eyes fixed on her intently, a question in them, one that did not have to be asked.

“I’m not sure I trust any of the rebels completely, but she’s opportunistic and cynical, which makes her very dangerous. The knowledge she keeps leaves us at a disadvantage and gives her sway over the cylons,” she explained, folding her arms across her chest, feeling chilled.

Laura watched Bill take in her words, saw the gears of his mind chew on them a few moments before his eyes raked over her. He looked down then, reached and picked up the blanket that lay beside his seat. Without a word, he stood, unfolded it and draped it around her shoulders.

She thought he would sit again, but he didn’t. Instead, his hands took hold of her face, palms warming her cool skin as he gently tilted her head back. His eyes were tender when she looked into them, stealing her breath. He bent and kissed her brow, whispered low and soft, his tone a lover’s, his words those of her partner in power, an intoxicating combination that weakened her knees even as it gave her strength.

“We’ll figure it out.”

Taking hold of his hands, Laura peered up at him, giving him a smile that she hoped conveyed the strength she found in him when she whispered, “We always do.”

His answering smile… Laura melted every time she saw that one and now was no exception. Simultaneously sexy and sweet, bold and tender, as contradictory as the rest of him. She loved every little ironic facet and the harmony they represented when combined in him.

Turning her head, she kissed his palm, lips lingering against his skin, eyes falling shut as she nuzzled into his caressing fingers. The pads of his thick digits curled just at the line of her jaw, so warm and gentle, making her tremble, stirring memories of similar touches in the darkness when there was nothing between them but sweat and brief gaps of air.

“Yes,” he rumbled from above her and she hummed in desire, in happiness, in love, breathing his name across his skin in gentle punctuation.

< Verse 1: Flying Solo | Verse 3: Homecoming >