Fanfiction - His Reason to Return
General story set around the time of the Exodus from New Caprica.
Some mild smut (nothing too serious)
Not my characters etc etc
His Reason to Return
He landed on the surface at 2300 hours. He quickly trudged through the muddy streets to the school tent before anyone had a chance to recognise him and wonder at his destination. He stood quietly at the entrance of her tent, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.
She lay on her small cot with her thin blanket clutched in her pale hands. He had the urge to run his fingers down the small green veins that striped those hands. He was patient though, and first went to the corner of the room to remove his boots and uniform. Then wearing only his tank top and boxers he gently pulled back her blanket and joined her on the bed. Her body gave a startled jerk and he rubbed his hands down her body cooing soothing noises into her ear. He felt her relax again and a hum of contentment escaped her lips.
“Bill?” she whispered.
“Who else you were expecting?” he teased.
She feathered a kiss on his shoulder before answering. “I wasn’t expecting anyone. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming tonight?” she asked, adding, “not that I’m complaining.”
“I should hope not,” he said. “Why did you wear so much to bed?” he complained as he removed the offending garments from her body.
“Well I don’t have suitcases full of lingerie,” she joked, snorting slightly, “and I was cold, mainly.”
“Mmm,” the fingers of his left hand played with one of her nipples, whilst he sucked the other deep into his mouth. Her head was now tilted back enabling her to thrust those same breasts upwards to allow him easy access to their silky softness. “We’ll just have to think of some other way to warm you up then,” he removed his mouth momentarily to say.
“Bill?” she whispered again.
“Yes?” he asked, reluctantly stopping his ministrations to look down into her now fully alert eyes.
Her hand reached up to his face. Her fingers tracing a pattern from one side of his jaw to his lips and back down to the other side of his jaw. She lifted up to press a heartfelt kiss directly on his lips.
“It’s good to see you. Missed you,” she added.
“Me too,” he replied, taking advantage of the fact that her mouth was slightly open from talking, he captured her lips in his, bruising her mouth with his passion.
“Bill,” she gasped as they eventually parted. “I just want you to know I’ve missed you. I’ve missed talking to you. I’ve missed laughing with you. I want you to know that I missed more than just this.”
He looked down into her eyes again. A slight wetness clung to her lashes. Laura Roslin never liked to admit weakness. Even though they were as close as any two people could be, she had sacrificed her own needs for so long that voicing her desires now made her uncomfortable.
“So you’re telling me you haven’t missed this?” he joked, trying to lighten the mood for them.
She laughed. “Well, I’m not saying that exactly, sir.” She reached up and tugged at his dog tags until his mouth was on hers again.
“I’ll try and not leave it so long next time,” he promised.
It had been four weeks since their last meeting. He had even taken a risk in visiting her tonight. However, the force that compelled him to ignore the jeopardy of their situation had been too strong. Her allure was too powerful. He was completely enamoured by her. She intoxicated him with her beauty and charm. He had known for a long time that he would do anything for her. Sometimes, he privately enjoyed the fact that she was no longer President. He didn’t need to question his judgement when Baltar gave ridiculous orders he didn’t agree with. For a long time, he had wondered if he was agreeing with her presidential orders or if he was just agreeing because she had given them. His desire to make her happy, to coax her beautiful smile into the open, was so powerful that he often secretly feared if he was too dominated by her.
“And I like it,” he said out loud.
“What?” she asked.
Of course she wouldn’t miss anything, he thought. Her quick wit and intelligence was another thing that drew him to her.
“I was just thinking out loud,” he admitted.
She chuckled slightly and rubbed his arms and shoulders. From the start of their physical relationship she had proven to be quite partial to this part of his body. “What do you like?” she asked now.
Everything about you, he thought. “Let me show you,” he answered aloud.
*
He awoke with a start. He checked the time. 0200 hours. He’d been dreaming of her again. Their last night together before the cylon fleet had jumped into orbit around New Caprica. They had been upset by the fact that they hadn’t seen each other in four weeks. Now it had been four months. Now he didn’t know whether her small cot existed, whether her tent existed, whether she existed. He clung to the hope she did.
*
It was happening. It was really happening. They had finally made contact with the surface of New Caprica. Saul was alive. He was in charge of an insurgency carrying out hit and run ops. He advised Saul to continue. Their aim now was to cause general unrest and confusion amongst the cylon dictatorship. Keep them busy so that he could fly in under the radar.
They had been practising the decoy drone manoeuvre for weeks. Kat and Racetrack were ready. Kelly and Helo were checking and re-checking their co-ordinates to jump into the planet’s atmosphere to launch the vipers lead by Hotdog.
The only piece of the puzzle left to solve was the retrieval of the Colonial fleet’s launch keys. He had an idea about this but would need to speak with Sharon to find out whether it would work or not.
He re-read the sitrep received from Saul for about the hundredth time. No mention of Kara. This was worrying. Chief had sent the messages so he obviously was alive and working with Saul. Anders was to be the insurgent’s liaison when he figured out the details of who he would send from Galactica. Nothing about Kara though. Nothing about Laura either.
His stomach flipped at the thought of why no mention of either of his girls. Neither of them were the type to idly sit by and watch while other people took up the fight. Granted Laura was no longer the President, but he knew she wouldn’t turn her back on her people. Even though Laura and Saul didn’t always see eye to eye, he knew deep down Laura would trust Saul and his military expertise, and support him in any way possible with the civilian population.
Kara was the ultimate soldier whether she was enlisted or not. Kara and Saul’s relationship was just as tenuous but he knew she would stand by his side against their common enemy.
So why no mention of either of them? He tried not to think of the possible answers to that question. Or the possibility they had become victims in the “Cylon crackdown” mentioned in the sitrep.
*
“Sir, message from the insurgency leaders due in 60 seconds.”
“Thank you, Captain Kelly.”
Kelly started the countdown. The longest minute of his life. They would now find out whether or not his faith in Sharon was justified.
“Link successful sir. Message reads: Launch Keys retrieval op successful, stop. Tigh in command of ground unit one - mission to gain entry to shipyard, stop. Anders in command of ground unit two -mission to liberate detention, stop. Roslin in command of ground unit three - mission to arrange civilian evacuation, stop. Systems go when vipers launch, stop. 2 hour countdown starting, stop.”
He stared at the message. He knew he had to keep his wits about himself to pull off this rescue but only one word seemed to be penetrating his brain, “Roslin”. Laura was alive.
*
“What’s the situation, Captain Kelly?” he asked.
“Twenty raptors have landed in port hangar deck, sir, including the escape raptors from the Pegasus. 72 other colonial ships have successfully reached our rendezvous point.”
“Cylons?”
“No enemy craft visible on DRADIS sir.”
They were alive. Barely. Sparks were flying from consoles all over the CIC. The Galactica had taken a pounding.
“Helo, you have the CIC. I need to get down to the hangar deck to greet a few people.”
“Sir,” Kelly cut in, “Colonial One is requesting to speak to Galactica Actual.”
Zarek. He had more important things to do than speak to that idiot. His first duty was going to throw that incompetent fool in the brig. The quorum would have to muddle through with some sort of interim government until he found some loop hole of the law to get Laura reinstated. According to the insurgents, Baltar had collaborated with the cylons and he would need to be charged with treason if he was still alive. That would automatically make Zarek president. Well he certainly wasn’t going to take orders from a terrorist. They wouldn’t be in this position if not for Zarek. Zarek and Baltar had insisted on settling on New Caprica, even though the Galactica’s preliminary scans of the surface had shown the environment to be inhospitable. Laura had known all along that it was a mistake. Twelve months on the surface and they hadn’t even progressed out of their tents. Then the cylons had arrived.
“Sir?”
He was just about to tell Kelly to cut the call from Colonial One when he changed his mind. Now was just as good a time to tell Zarek to start wording his resignation.
He picked up the telephone and barked “Adama” down the line. The line crackled and he thought for a moment he had lost the connection altogether when a small decidedly feminine voice said “hi, it’s me”. His heart pounded. Laura. He hadn’t expected her to be aboard the Colonial One. He had underestimated her once again. He closed his eyes and gave thanks to her Gods.
“Hi me,” he said. “Missed you.”
“Me too,” she answered.
There usual greeting took on a significantly more poignant meaning.
“Laura,” he swallowed hoping his voice sounded steadier than he thought, “I’ll arrange for Colonial One to dock as soon as we have some room on of the hangar decks.”
“I’ll see you then, sir,” he could hear the smile in her voice.
“You can count on it.” He couldn’t keep the smile out of his own voice too.
*
He called the Chief from the Ward Room. The phones in CIC were now officially frakked.
“Chief, the Colonial One will be docking soon. Officially it will be here for maintenance. Unofficially I want your crew to go over every inch of that ship for any cylon tracking devices,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
“Also, can you please ensure that the entire ship is cleaned from top to bottom. I want to rid any trace of Baltar and the cylons.”
*
The young man opposite him in the Ward Room looked nervous. After four months rebelling against cylon occupation on New Caprica, he couldn’t believe that a meeting with him could make Sam Anders look so uncomfortable. He decided to take pity on the kid.
“OK. I think we are done for now. If I need any further details, I’ll let you know.”
They were both rising to leave when the hatch to the Ward Room spun open. They each turned to check who was entering. He’ll never know what Sam saw standing in the entryway to the room but he knew that he saw the sweetest sight he’d seen in four months. Laura. He walked slowly over to her and, for once not caring what a witness thought, took her in his arms. They held each other, just enjoying the knowledge that they were both alive and together again. Neither of them noticed Sam leaving the room. Finally he looked down at her face. He breathed a sigh of relief that she didn’t seem to have any physical scars from her time on New Caprica as Saul did. He gently leant down and softly kissed her mouth.
“I was just thrown off Colonial One by Chief on your orders so I need somewhere to stay,” she said. “I was wondering, sir, if I could use your quarters for a day or two.”
“Well I’m not sure,” he said. “I have a lot of work to do at the moment. You may prove to be too distracting.” He distracted himself by running his fingers through her hair.
“What if I promise to help you find spots for the refugees?”
“You’ll still be distracting,” he said now kissing around her earlobe. “Besides, you only want my quarters for my shower and comfortable mattress,” he joked.
She snorted. “True. There is that,” she said as her hands were sweeping over his biceps, “and other things.”
*
“I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear.
She swivelled around in his bed so she could look clearly into his eyes. “What for?” she asked.
“Leaving. Jumping away. Taking four frakkin months to come and get you,” he rarely swore in front of her but for he needed her to understand his frustrations at his hopelessness while she suffered in some cylon cell on New Caprica.
“Bill,” she started, only to pause and kiss him on the cheek, then on the other cheek, then on his forehead, “it wasn’t your fault. If you want to blame someone, blame Baltar for making settlement on the planet his first presidential policy. Blame me for not having the popularity to beat him at the polls. Blame whoever set off the nuclear bomb on Cloud Nine that led the cylons to us. You made the correct military strategic move at the time. I hardly think that you being blasted out of the sky by a cylon basestar would have helped the situation any.”
He looked down at her. She was so lovely. He wondered, not for the first time, how the end of the worlds had become the beginning of their world. The world of William Adama and Laura Roslin. He wanted to live in that world forever.
“We were so lucky when we got you,” she continued. “I knew that when we found Cain but now I know it even more. I mean, Bill, really, five base stars, and you won. And that jump into New Caprica’s atmosphere? Gods Bill, I think you singed my hair you got that close. Remind me never to doubt your military expertise again.”
He chuckled, “I didn’t think you doubted it beforehand. Now I’m finding out you have doubts?” he teased. “Anders told me you slapped Saul,” he saw he startled her by his sudden change of tack.
“Well, four months of insurgent missions and that’s what Sam’s first debriefing garners.”
He chuckled again. He loved the way she could make him laugh. Not everyone understood her dry wit and sarcasm but he relished it.
“So it’s true?” he asked.
She sighed. “I felt so responsible, Bill. Thirty three people. Thirty three human people. Not cylons, humans.” Her voice had barely become a whisper. Her eyes were turned away from him. “It was all my fault. I told them we needed to take out a high profile target. I never dreamt they’d do it that way.”
She looked up at him then, searching his eyes for forgiveness. He remembered what Sharon had said, about the man at the top forgiving himself.
“Laura, I won’t blame myself anymore,” he said truthfully, “if you won’t blame yourself anymore. We need to move forward.”
“Together?” she asked.
He never answered. Didn’t feel he needed to answer. He often didn’t need to say words to Laura. She just knew what he was thinking. They were so in tune with each other. She knew they had been together since Kobol and he didn’t intend to change that. “Sam seems to be in awe of you,” he said instead. “Told me you had several stints in detention. Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.
Laura stood and walked over to his desk and shuffled through some paperwork she had brought over from Colonial One. She came back and handed him three small books tied up with a piece of string. “I haven’t decided what to do with these yet but I want you to read them,” she said. “Maybe it will make it easier for you to understand Saul and Kara,” she paused for a moment and added quietly, as if an afterthought, “and me.”
He opened up the first book and saw her distinctive handwriting.
“A diary?” he asked.
“Of sorts. The eternal public servant, keeping records,” she joked.
“Are you sure you want me to read them? I mean, if they’re personal.”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek again. “I can’t think of anyone else I’d like to get more personal with,” she said.
*
He walked though his hatch from his stint in CIC. She was in his quarters. He could smell her as soon as he lifted his foot over the entryway. He turned and spun the hatch shut, hoping that it would remain shut for the remainder of the night and they would get some time alone as Laura and Bill. He glanced around the room and saw her everywhere. Her jacket thrown over a chair, her paperwork spread across his desk, an empty glass with a trace of a lipstick stain next to his lamp. He walked further into the room to find her glasses folded neatly on his bedside table and a fresh set of clothes lying on the bed. He heard the shower running.
He quickly stripped out of his uniform and boots and walked into the head. Her head was fully under the shower spray making her oblivious to his presence. He wriggled out of his underwear and joined her under the spray. She jumped slightly when she felt him and then laughed with obvious pleasure. He loved to see her laugh. He loved it when the laughter reached her eyes. He could usually always tell what she was thinking from her beautiful expressive eyes. At the moment, they were laughing even though her mouth was now only smiling. He wanted nothing more than to make her eyes look this way forever.
He sometimes felt so helpless that he couldn’t bring more happiness and joy into her life. He tried to chase away his morbid thoughts and instead decided to do what he was sure would make her happy at this moment. He pulled her slightly forward so that the water was teeming down her back and lowered himself. He’d probably feel it in his knees tomorrow but it would be worth it to hear her hum and moan from his ministrations. He licked and sucked and kissed and nuzzled her until she came, groaning his name and scratching his back with her nails. He loved doing this for her. Knew that prick Adar had found it a chore. He enjoyed it though. He enjoyed her taste. Mostly, he enjoyed knowing that she enjoyed it.
He somehow rose again from the shower floor in a semi dignified way. They turned the taps off and wrapped each other in a towel before heading back to his rack. They lay quietly in each other arms. Her foot was rubbing against his every now and then. Occasionally she would lean over and kiss some part of his body, almost absentmindedly.
“You get sworn in tomorrow,” he said regretfully. He knew that they would then be back to the Admiral and President public facade. That they would have to try and squeeze in a few minutes here and there of private togetherness. She wouldn’t be able to stay any longer on Galactica. He would miss her in his bed. One day, when they were just Bill and Laura and living by a stream in the woods, they would spend the entire week in bed. He thought he might even make sure that their cabin only had one bedroom so that they could be completely alone.
He stood up and walked over to his desk to retrieve her journals. He had finished reading them. He had known for a long time what a brave and resilient person she was but reading these journals had proved that beyond all doubt. He felt completely honoured that she had allowed him to read them. He didn’t know how he could explain the admiration he felt for her in respect of her ordeal on New Caprica, so instead he just handed back the journals, said thank you, and kissed her fully on the lips, hoping some of his emotions may be conveyed in the gesture.
He looked up earnestly into her eyes to see them damp with unshed tears and knew that she understood how he felt.
“I know what I’m going to do with these,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow at her enquiring.
“I’m going to set up a Commission to document our history. Someone needs to write down the details of the attacks and the struggles we’ve faced ever since. I want the stories from New Caprica to be recorded so that future generations can learn from our mistakes. I don’t want the children of this fleet, or their children, to ever have to endure what we did. I want the person assigned to this task to go from ship to ship gathering stories.” She looked down at her journals and reverently ran her hands over their covers. “I’m going to start with mine. The only proviso for them will be that it won’t be for publication for this generation. I don’t like this hornet’s nest that Zarek has stirred up. It won’t help to forget. It will be like a sore that will fester and I don’t want to be in the firing line when it pops.”
“So you are going to give them trials?” he asked. “Zarek’s right about one thing. That it will make it drag on for months. Bloody lawyers will make that sore swell even more.”
“Mmm..,” she answered noncommittally. “You know what? I’m not president until tomorrow. Surely we can think of something else to do with our time.”
“Yes, I’m sure we can,” he answered. He decided to try and show her all the things he could think of.
THE END