Reunion

Laura Roslin didn’t bother to change clothes before departing Colonial One for the Battlestar Galactica. She still wore the heavy blue jacket she’d worn on New Caprica. It was about a size too big and smelled of gunpowder and smoke, remnants of the battle preceding the mass exodus from the planet only hours earlier. But she didn’t care what it looked or smelled like at the moment. There were more important matters at hand. Her ship had just rejoined the fleet less than half-an-hour ago and she had things to do and people to see, one in particular.

Striding alone through the corridors, Laura could not help but reach out and touch the bulkheads from time to time, silently bestowing her thanks to the great war vessel for its continued service to humanity. She also shook hands with every Galactica crew member she met along the way. She even hugged a few. With each step she took, the smile on her face grew to the point it could not have been removed by even the best surgeon in the galaxy.

Her people were safe, thanks to this ship and its crew, and would soon be on the road again to Earth, which made her happy beyond words. But she knew that her ever-growing smile and the rapid beating of her heart were about more than that, for every time she placed one foot in front of the other she came closer to him.

The fleet knew him as Admiral William Adama, their rescuer. His crew affectionately called him The Old Man, their surrogate father figure. To Laura, he was Bill, her colleague, friend, confidant, and — wouldn’t everyone be surprised to know? — her lover.

The development hadn’t really come as a surprise for Laura, though, nor for Bill. They had been on that path for while, since sometime after events on Kobol. As they’d forged and strengthened the bonds of their friendship, the attraction that had been between them almost from the start had flourished along with it. They’d danced a delicate dance around it, flirting with it and each other, but always remembering who they were and the positions they held, and the duties and responsibilities that came with them. Personal wishes and wants had been secondary to all else.

On New Caprica, however, things had been different. She’d no longer been president — still wasn’t — and in that time of peace before the Cylon occupation, they’d been free to enjoy their friendship, and eventually found themselves exploring their unspoken and long-shelved feelings. The progression had been a natural one, perfect actually. Neither of them had sought to make it happen. It just had and they’d embraced it, and quietly and joyfully pursued it until that fateful day when Cylon basestars jumped into orbit and raiders filled the overcast New Caprican sky.

For Laura, the deepening of her relationship with the admiral of the Colonial Fleet was the best thing to come out of the settlement on the barely hospitable planet. Well, that and her return to teaching. Both had fulfilled her in a way she hadn’t been in a very long time, and with Bill, in ways she’d never before experienced.

It had been a big change for her, being involved with a man who clearly appreciated her for more than what she could do for him in or out of bed, who was interested in what she had to say and actually listened when she did speak, who was her friend as much as her intimate partner, and whose attention was not divided with another woman. All of that combined to add a dimension that her previous relationships had lacked largely, if not completely. She’d found the change an intoxicating one.

Being the sole focus of Bill Adama’s affections was heady business. He was not a man fearful of his feelings, and he felt deeply and intensely, and at times with a fierceness that was startling. At the heart of it all, though, was a devastating tenderness that literally took her breath away. It stripped her bare every time, leaving her exposed and wanting more, aching for him in every way it was possible for a woman to ache for a man.

In those few blessed months of happiness on New Caprica, she had discovered her true companion, the one she’d long ago given up believing she’d find. And then the Cylons had returned, shattering every foolish hope she and the others had entertained for peace, and laying utter waste to her burgeoning dreams of life in a cabin by a lake with the man who had become a vital part of her life, of her.

Her dreams aside, Laura thanked the gods that Bill had not been on the surface when the Cylons arrived. She was fairly certain none of them would have gotten off the planet alive if he hadn’t been out here amongst the stars planning a daring rescue and waiting for the right moment to strike.

She’d known he would come for them, that he wouldn’t leave them there at the mercy of the Cylons, that he wouldn’t leave her or the others dear to him — Col. Tigh and Kara Thrace — there to suffer and possibly die at the hands of their machine overlords. It just wasn’t in him.

They owed him. Every last one of them. They owed him, his son, their officers and crewmen and women. They owed them all for coming back to get them and not leaving them on that hell hole of a planet. And they owed Col. Tigh and his band of insurgents for the sacrifices they’d made on the surface. So many had been lost, and yet more had survived because of their vigilance and faith that The Old Man was coming for them.

The Old Man, Laura mused.

She couldn’t wait to see him. She had been thinking about what to say when she saw him, what to do even, but she hadn’t come to any decisions on either front. It was fitting, though. Nothing else in their relationship had been planned.

In defiance of all odds, two people who initially couldn’t stand each other had found common ground and eventually became as united as two people possibly could be. It was a miracle considering how headstrong they both were and how often they differed in opinion. But those things didn’t seem to matter in the end. What bound them had their combined strength, which overshadowed either of them alone.

There was something oddly freeing in that, knowing she could speak her mind without fear of upsetting their relationship, trusting Bill to listen even if he didn’t agree.

Richard Adar hadn’t been that kind of man. He had respected her, but only as long as their opinions were in accord, had wanted her but only so long as it didn’t interfere with his ambitions and perfect family life.

Not so with Bill Adama. Sure, in those early days, he’d been skeptical, which was only natural considering how much chaos, confusion, and rampant paranoia brewed in the wake of the attack on the Colonies. But he’d come around gradually, and fairly quickly. She knew it hadn’t been easy for him to set aside the ingrained military thought processes and training, and listen to her, a school teacher, advise him, a soldier, to flee a war. But he had, revealing a pragmatic nature that sat in perfect balance to her own sensible reasoning. Mutual respect grew out of that and survived his coup attempt to emerge even stronger than before.

She learned in those uncertain days that Bill was an uncommon man, one capable of admitting mistakes and making amends, of changing when it was necessary and right. More than that, he’d done it publicly, standing before the fleet and backing her presidency without hesitation. The subsequent lackluster response from the people had infuriated him, prompting him to openly dare them to defy him and what he believed was right. They didn’t, of course, because ultimately they believed in him and trusted him. And if he trusted her … well, that was that.

There was no looking back after that day, for either of them. They’d forged ahead, united in purpose, along the way building a friendship that Laura had come to view as the most prolific and vital of her life. And it was not just because of the symbiotic nature of their jobs and the responsibility they bore together.

Their friendship far transcended that of professional colleagues. It was a connection between two people who were otherwise isolated, who needed a connection that went beyond that of leader to followers, who needed a safe place to let down their guard without fear. Against all odds, they’d formed that connection, built it on implicit trust and respect, and out of it had grown, unexpected but welcome, a mutual affection that deepened daily and against any and all prudence.

Then had come New Caprica and the gentle surrender to that affection.

It had been sweet and passionate, lighthearted and intense, and everything in between. At times, Bill had been breathtakingly guileless and, at others, magnificently bold. In all of it, he had been quiet and thoughtful, accepting and giving, and Laura had mirrored him without thought, moved in perfect counter to him as if she’d been doing it all her life. It had been a dance, a waltz of hearts, bodies and minds played out discreetly in an interlude of peace, and Laura had loved every moment of it.

The memories of that dance sustained her in the dark days that followed, and filled her now as she neared his quarters.

She did not know what awaited them in the days to come, if they would pick up where they left off or if their personal needs would again become secondary to their duties. At the moment, she couldn’t think past seeing him for the first time in months. But she knew whatever happened, or didn’t, it would not change how either of them felt. They knew what they had was special, a rare gift, and they weren’t going to throw it away. They would nurture it in some fashion and time would tell where it would take them.

Turning down the short corridor that led to Bill’s quarters, she smiled brightly to the young marines who stood guard. They returned the expression, nodding to her as she approached the open hatch.

“He’s expecting you,” one of them said quietly.

“Thank you,” she replied.

As she crossed the threshold, she spotted Bill standing beside his desk. He was on the wireless, his back to the door. His voice was gruff and tight, all but a growl as he spoke into the handset.

“There will be no negotiations. This is how things are going to be, so you can shut your mouth and live with it or you can spend the rest of this trip in Galactica’s brig, in isolation. Your choice.”

And with that, he hung up the receiver.

“Frakking moron,” he grumbled as he moved toward his desk.

Laura called out to him, his name a mere breathy whisper. She’d thought it would be stronger. She’d intended it to be, but the familiar sight of him…

He looked good, a little tired, but well. Except for the bandage on his left hand. Her intentions to inquire about it fell to the wayside, however, when he pinned her with those deep blue eyes. Relief flooded his gaze and his body. She literally saw it wash over him, and felt it wash over herself.

Something inside her eased, a deep-seated worry she hadn’t allowed herself to truly acknowledge until now. He was all right. He really was all right. She’d hoped. She’d suspected, but she hadn’t really known.

Feeling the sting of tears, she looked down at her hands, which she’d unconsciously clasped in front of her, and took a deep breath, trying to center herself. When she looked up again, he was moving toward her. His pace was slow and steady, not wary but purposeful. Her heart raced and she smiled at him, watching a similar expression flirt about his mouth to become that sexy half-grin that always made her very aware that she was a woman.

“Bill,” she breathed.

“You said that already,” he teased, his voice a soft, deep rumble.

“Hmmm.” It was as coherent a response as she could muster with her heart fluttering wildly in her chest and threatening to lodge itself in her throat.

His expression changed as his own emotions surged. She saw it in his eyes, in the shifting of his features, tenderness rising up over the amusement and lightness, that initial shyness.

Laura knew her expression had changed to match it, and felt tears starting to fall. It was just a couple, but enough to prompt him to reach out for her. He hugged her tightly to him, his cheek pressed to hers. She closed her eyes and held to him.

Gods, it felt good. He felt good.

Laura had no idea how long they stood there like that, but she knew it was a while. She was pretty sure she would have stayed there forever had it been feasible … and had the marines not decided that maybe they should close the hatch to his quarters.

The heavy clank and thud of the door being shut caused Laura to start. She couldn’t help it. For the last four months, loud noises had usually been the result of explosives and gunfire, so she was naturally a little jumpy.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized to Bill.

He simply held her tighter in response, brushed a kiss to her ear, and whispered, “It’s good to see you.”

Laura smiled and drew back enough to look at him. Her eyes moved over his face of their own accord, soaking in the sight of him. She brought a hand up and touched his cheek. “It’s good to see you.”

The look that fell over his face at that moment left her speechless. Pure, unabashed love. And then he kissed her, pressing his lips to hers with unfathomable gentleness, lingering until the need to breathe became paramount.

Their eyes met and held briefly before Laura hugged him tightly again and rested her head on his shoulder. She had missed him, had missed this closeness with him. She wished she could stay exactly where she was for the rest of her life and figured it was a perfectly reasonable wish considering it was the first time she’d felt safe and at peace in months. She also figured they might get away with it if they locked the door and didn’t come out until they reached Earth. But while that thought was a nice one, and a serious temptation, it was wholly unrealistic.

As much as they needed each other, the fleet also needed them. Which brought another issue to the fore. She was no longer president and in an official position to do anything of significance. She wasn’t even sure what shape the civilian government was in at the moment.

The Quorum had been dissolved by the Cylons and she had no idea what had happened to Tom Zarek or Gaius Baltar. Frankly, she couldn’t have cared less about the latter. Zarek, on the other hand, had shown some backbone and, despite their troubled past, Laura respected him for the stand he took against Baltar. She wasn’t sure he should have the presidency, though, and suspected that Bill might be considering martial law in the interim, which actually might not be a bad idea.

Right now, Bill was probably the most popular person in the fleet and she trusted him wholeheartedly to make the right choices, and to consult with her on the path they took. The hitch was going to be Zarek, who wasn’t a slouch in the popularity department and definitely had a thirst for power.

Ah, reality, Laura sighed inwardly.

Easing her embrace, she kissed Bill then asked, “What’s the situation?”

A knowing grin emerged as he bowed his head and slowly moved away from her. She watched him walk over to his desk and pick up a folder. As he returned, she pulled her glasses out of her pocket and put them.

“What’s this?” she asked as she took the folder from him.

“A declaration of martial law.”

Laura nodded her approval. Well, that answers that.

“Baltar?”

Bill shook his head. “Nobody seems to know what happened to him but it doesn’t look like he made it off New Caprica. We have no official head count, though.”

“Tory’s at your disposal if your people need assistance with that.”

“I’ll let Dee know.” Bill said then gestured to the table. “Would you like some water?”

Laura smiled at him. “I would love some.”

She sat as he walked over to the service cart just inside the sleeping area of his quarters. He filled two glasses with water and returned to the table, handing one to her as he sat across from her. She took a sip and waited for him to continue. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Zarek’s the problem.”

“So he did make it.”

“Yeah,” Bill said then took a drink. “He’s the reason for that,” he said, gesturing to the folder she’d placed on the table in front of her. “But I’m hoping we won’t need it.”

Laura sat her glass aside, leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “How so?”

“I’ve given him an ultimatum. I’m hoping he’ll see reason.”

Laura’s eyes narrowed. She pointed toward the wireless. “Is that who you were talking to when I came in?”

Bill didn’t say anything, just looked at her.

“You were,” she said, recalling the threat he’d made to whoever was on the other end. “What have you done?”

“I’m simply correcting a mistake, my own and the people’s.”

Laura’s eyes widened. She knew exactly what he was talking about, her election loss, his decision to stop the “fix” Tory and Col. Tigh had enacted, and the people’s mistake in choosing Baltar to begin with. He intended to put her back into power.

“It’s not so simple,” she said, shaking her head. “You can’t do this.”

“It’s already done.”


“Bill–” she began but he cut her off.

“This needs to be done and quickly. It’s not pleasant, but the only other option is martial law, and I don’t want that any more than you do. More importantly, Zarek doesn’t want it.”

“I don’t want him as president either…” she began then stopped, remembering that Bill had spoken those exact words to her upon hearing of her attempt to steal the election.

Laura’s arms dropped, her hands falling to her lap. She looked down at them, considering the ramifications of what Bill had initiated. It was a blow for democracy to be certain.

“This is not about what I want or what you want. The people need a president who’s interested in their welfare, not a former terrorist who wants the job to have the power and thrives on discord. And they need it now, not in however long it would take to organize an election,” Bill said. “You’re that president, Laura. You have been from the start.”

Lifting her eyes to meet his, she smiled wanly. “I never wanted the job,” she confessed, and she hadn’t until she realized the threat Baltar posed to the safety and welfare of the fleet. Even then, she’d not wanted it for the power, but to protect the people.

Bill’s gaze was steady, all-seeing, all-knowing. “I know.”

Laura got up and began to pace, unzipping her jacket as she did so. She took it off and tossed it onto his couch. Bill didn’t say a word, just let her thought process play out. A hand on her hip, she stopped and looked over her shoulder at him.

“You do know this could look like a military coup, with you deposing Zarek to set me up as a puppet?”

To that, Bill laughed. “Huh. If they think that then they don’t know you very well.”

Laura couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up at seeing his amusement and the absurdity of the scenario she’d thrown out there. Bill definitely had a point, but it wouldn’t stop people from thinking it.

“Yeah, well, they did elect Baltar,” she countered.

“Which is why this is going to play out legally, through the civilian government,” he told her.

Laura’s eyebrows raised at that. To her knowledge there was no civilian government. “How?”

“A new quorum will be sworn in, and Zarek’s going to resign–”

“‘Or spend the rest of the trip in Galactica’s brig, in isolation?’” she asked.

“Yes.” The answer was wholly unapologetic, without even a hint of guilt in it.

“That’s blackmail, Admiral.”

Bill got to his feet and walked over to where she stood. He looked her dead in the eye. His expression was calm, gentle even.

“No, it’s a fact, Madame President. Zarek has choices. Two of them would land his ass in my brig, but the third allows him to keep his freedom and put the people first. All he has to do is lay aside his ambition, which is exactly what he should do if he really does give a frak about what the people need.”

Laura squared her shoulders and faced him, both hands now on her hips.

“And how exactly, pray tell, am I to assume the presidency?”

“Zarek’s going to nominate you as his vice president before he resigns.”

Laura tilted her head forward and looked at Bill over the top rim of her glasses. “You have got to be kidding me?”

“Zarek may be ambitious, but he’s no fool,” Bill replied. “He knows you’re the best choice to lead the fleet. He just wants us to throw him a bone.”

“And what bone would that be?”

“That would be up to you.”

Laura shook her head vigorously and glanced up at the ceiling. “Gods, help us all,” she beseeched then looked at Bill again. “Do you realize how good you’ve gotten at politics?”

Bill huffed under his breath, looking away from her and down at the floor as he so often did. “I think I preferred being called a blackmailer,” he mumbled as he wandered over and picked up his glass from the table. He drained it, went to the service cart and refilled his glass, this time with whiskey.

As he returned to the table, he took a sip of the amber liquid then began unbuttoning his uniform tunic, sighing heavily as he did. Laura’s fingers twitched at the sight, remembering how she’d sometimes helped with that task on New Caprica. He’d often caressed her face and kissed her brow and cheeks as she’d done so, making her long to hurry and draw it out at the same time.

Laura trembled at the memory, her heart racing, and found herself quietly walking over to him without having made a conscious decision to do so. Silently, she brushed his hand out of the way and took over the job. When she had them all undone, she parted the fabric and eased her hands inside, resting them against his chest. He was warm and solid. She closed her eyes in a benediction of thanks that he was safe and whole.

She smiled hearing the soft clunk of his glass being placed on the table, then opened her eyes dreamily when he took hold of her glasses and eased them off. He sat them on the table, where his own soon joined them.

When his hands came up to cradle her face, she leaned toward him instinctively. He smiled gently at her then touched his lips to hers, lingering just a moment before kissing her slow and soft. He wrapped his arms around her. She eased her own down and around to slide up his back.

“This isn’t smart,” she breathed between caresses of his lips.

“But it’s what you want,” he stated then silenced her reply with another kiss, this one softer than any of the ones before.

Laura decided then and there that intelligence was overrated, at the moment at least. Yes, making love now was not smart, not with the power structure of the fleet still up in the air, but she couldn’t deny that she wanted that connection with him, that she needed it. After months of harshness, the thought of just stopping to experience something beautiful and gentle with him was a powerful one, and ultimately irresistible.

A hum of consent rising in her throat, her hands tugged insistently at his tunic from the inside, pulling it out of his trousers. His own eased her shirt tails free then found the buttons on the front. He undid each one with painstaking care then eased the fabric back and off her shoulders before sliding his hands over her chest, gently finding her shape.

Laura gasped at his touch and covered his hands with hers. Feeling the bandage on his left hand, she lifted it pressed a kiss to gauze-covered palm, nuzzled it. She felt his eyes on her. She met them, whispered, “Thank you for coming back for us.”

She watched a myriad of emotions flicker through his blue eyes before he confessed, “I couldn’t live with it this time.”

Laura nodded her understanding. It had taken a lot out of him to abandon so many when they’d fled the initial Cylon attack on the Colonies. She can only imagine how it had gnawed at him to leave her and what remained of humanity there on New Caprica at the mercy of the Cylons. The guilt had to have been tremendous. But it was also needless. He’d done what he had to do, and it had been the right thing. She knew he knew that as well, but it hadn’t stopped the guilt. He was too much a man of conscience.

Without a word, Laura hugged him. She sighed softly in his ear when his arms wrapped around her and returned her embrace. He pulled her close, burying his face in her neck. There was a whisper then, so soft she barely heard it.

“Missed you.”

Laura smiled, warmth blossoming throughout her body and soul, a wild fluttering in her chest. Turning her face into his neck, she breathed, “Me, too.”