Conflagration (9/13) - Flames
Title: Conflagration (9/13) - Flames
Author: Rowen
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Missing/Extended scene from 3.12 "Taking a break from all your worries"
Synopsis: A relationship, like a fire takes time to develop. It doesn't spring fully formed but grows in intensity over time.
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Genre: Romance
Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to SciFi and lots of other people but not me.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Chapter 9 - Flames
Laura slept.
Laura slept, and Bill watched her.
He hadn't intended to sit there watching her sleep, but somehow he'd gravitated away from his desk and the reports he should have been reading to the side of his rack. Watching her face - luminous in the lamplight and relaxed from all her waking pressures. Watching the rise and fall of her chest as she softly inhaled and exhaled. Watching her hair spread out over his pillow in a shining red wave; the tantalizing glimpse of bare skin at her midriff where her blouse was untucked. No wonder the reports had been left by the wayside.
Oh, he had tried to read the reports for several unproductive hours, but his eyes and mind kept straying to the figure lying on his rack. Finally, he had given up on the paperwork completely and allowed himself to simply sit and contemplate the woman on the bed. He knew he shouldn't be sitting here watching her; it was violating her privacy, but he couldn't look away.
Some primal part of him was rejoicing with possessive glee: 'Laura Roslin is asleep in my bed'. But the rational part of his consciousness kept reminding him she was there only because she had a severe headache and had lain down to rest.
----------
Earlier
"I'm not used to that level of emotional histrionics," she apologized, referring to her scene with Baltar earlier in the day.
It had been chilling to watch the normally calm and self-possessed President Roslin appear to completely lose it, even when he knew it was just an act. He'd fully expected Baltar to piss his pants and make a full confession on the spot, but the little weasel had shown a surprising amount of backbone. Not surprising, though, given the man's prodigious intellect and extraordinary sense of self-preservation. No matter how scared the little frakker was of Roslin, there was always the off-chance she was bluffing, and a confession would certainly book him a one-way trip to the airlock.
The screaming and ranting had had an unexpected effect though: it had given Laura a grade A mother-frakker of a headache.
Without a thought, he offered her the use of his quarters as he had many times in the past when she'd needed to do work or conduct meetings on Galactica.
"I can't throw you out," she protested weakly, even as he guided her across the cabin in the direction of his rack.
"If it makes you feel better, I can read reports in the main cabin," he replied, trying to ease her conscience. "My boss is something of a slave driver and gets a little upset when I don't keep on top of my paperwork."
That earned him a warm smile, and she divested herself of jacket and shoes, lying on the bed with a heart-felt sigh of relief.
----------
Now, hours later, he sat on the edge of the bed debating whether or not to awaken her. It was getting late and she might not appreciate waking in the morning and discovering she'd unintentionally spent the night in his cabin.
'Then again, she might,' a voice in his mind suggested.
He ignored the voice: he would wake her. He glanced at her face again. Her lips - soft, red and inviting - beckoned to him. Begging him to kiss her awake. For a moment, a long moment he was tempted. Instead, he reached out a hand and gently grasped her shoulder.
She stirred, her hair falling softly across his hand, but didn't wake. On the second try, she opened her eyes and smiled up at him.
"Morning, Bill." Her voice was throaty, sleepy, and - beyond a shadow of a doubt - damn sexy. She looked up at him with that gorgeous smile, blue eyes full of affection, her hair disheveled. He couldn't help but return the smile, thinking that this was a sight he wouldn't mind waking up to each morning.
"Actually, it's evening," he replied clearing his throat and trying not to look like an idiot by grinning. "Late evening."
She sighed, closing her eyes and unselfconsciously stretched, the hem of her skirt and blouse both riding up to expose a great deal more skin than normal. He could feel his temperature rise as his gaze slid down her body. His body was begging him to reach out with his hands and follow the path his eyes had taken, removing her clothes as he went. By the time his eyes had finished their journey back to her face, her eyes were open again, and he knew he'd been caught ogling.
Damn. Well, he couldn't pretend he hadn't been looking. Best to ignore it?
Laura smiled slightly; amusement and… something else shone in her eyes.
But she seemed willing to give him a reprieve for his indiscretion, and started talking about Baltar. It took his mind a few seconds to catch up with the sudden shift into business, and he completely missed her opening sentences.
"…I told him I didn't take any satisfaction in seeing his pain," she was saying, "But the truth is, I was willing to see him endure a great deal of suffering, in order to get what I wanted. It wasn't some intelligence or some truth. I wanted a genuine admission of guilt."
"That's something that you're not gonna get from someone like Baltar," he replied, trying to ease her conscience. "He doesn't see himself that way. It's not who he is. In his eyes he's the victim, not the criminal."
She stared at the ceiling, as if trying to see her way through the mess that the ex-President's reappearance was going to cause.
"It's not too late for him to just disappear," he offered quietly. While she had advocated ruthless courses of action in the past, he was desperately hoping she didn't take him up on this offer.
Laura smiled sadly and placed her hand gently on his arm.
"We can't do that," she whispered. "For all his crimes, he's one of us."
There was silence as each contemplated the situation.
"So what happens next?" he asked finally.
"We give him his trial."
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
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Author: Rowen
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Missing/Extended scene from 3.12 "Taking a break from all your worries"
Synopsis: A relationship, like a fire takes time to develop. It doesn't spring fully formed but grows in intensity over time.
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Genre: Romance
Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to SciFi and lots of other people but not me.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Chapter 9 - Flames
Laura slept.
Laura slept, and Bill watched her.
He hadn't intended to sit there watching her sleep, but somehow he'd gravitated away from his desk and the reports he should have been reading to the side of his rack. Watching her face - luminous in the lamplight and relaxed from all her waking pressures. Watching the rise and fall of her chest as she softly inhaled and exhaled. Watching her hair spread out over his pillow in a shining red wave; the tantalizing glimpse of bare skin at her midriff where her blouse was untucked. No wonder the reports had been left by the wayside.
Oh, he had tried to read the reports for several unproductive hours, but his eyes and mind kept straying to the figure lying on his rack. Finally, he had given up on the paperwork completely and allowed himself to simply sit and contemplate the woman on the bed. He knew he shouldn't be sitting here watching her; it was violating her privacy, but he couldn't look away.
Some primal part of him was rejoicing with possessive glee: 'Laura Roslin is asleep in my bed'. But the rational part of his consciousness kept reminding him she was there only because she had a severe headache and had lain down to rest.
----------
Earlier
"I'm not used to that level of emotional histrionics," she apologized, referring to her scene with Baltar earlier in the day.
It had been chilling to watch the normally calm and self-possessed President Roslin appear to completely lose it, even when he knew it was just an act. He'd fully expected Baltar to piss his pants and make a full confession on the spot, but the little weasel had shown a surprising amount of backbone. Not surprising, though, given the man's prodigious intellect and extraordinary sense of self-preservation. No matter how scared the little frakker was of Roslin, there was always the off-chance she was bluffing, and a confession would certainly book him a one-way trip to the airlock.
The screaming and ranting had had an unexpected effect though: it had given Laura a grade A mother-frakker of a headache.
Without a thought, he offered her the use of his quarters as he had many times in the past when she'd needed to do work or conduct meetings on Galactica.
"I can't throw you out," she protested weakly, even as he guided her across the cabin in the direction of his rack.
"If it makes you feel better, I can read reports in the main cabin," he replied, trying to ease her conscience. "My boss is something of a slave driver and gets a little upset when I don't keep on top of my paperwork."
That earned him a warm smile, and she divested herself of jacket and shoes, lying on the bed with a heart-felt sigh of relief.
----------
Now, hours later, he sat on the edge of the bed debating whether or not to awaken her. It was getting late and she might not appreciate waking in the morning and discovering she'd unintentionally spent the night in his cabin.
'Then again, she might,' a voice in his mind suggested.
He ignored the voice: he would wake her. He glanced at her face again. Her lips - soft, red and inviting - beckoned to him. Begging him to kiss her awake. For a moment, a long moment he was tempted. Instead, he reached out a hand and gently grasped her shoulder.
She stirred, her hair falling softly across his hand, but didn't wake. On the second try, she opened her eyes and smiled up at him.
"Morning, Bill." Her voice was throaty, sleepy, and - beyond a shadow of a doubt - damn sexy. She looked up at him with that gorgeous smile, blue eyes full of affection, her hair disheveled. He couldn't help but return the smile, thinking that this was a sight he wouldn't mind waking up to each morning.
"Actually, it's evening," he replied clearing his throat and trying not to look like an idiot by grinning. "Late evening."
She sighed, closing her eyes and unselfconsciously stretched, the hem of her skirt and blouse both riding up to expose a great deal more skin than normal. He could feel his temperature rise as his gaze slid down her body. His body was begging him to reach out with his hands and follow the path his eyes had taken, removing her clothes as he went. By the time his eyes had finished their journey back to her face, her eyes were open again, and he knew he'd been caught ogling.
Damn. Well, he couldn't pretend he hadn't been looking. Best to ignore it?
Laura smiled slightly; amusement and… something else shone in her eyes.
But she seemed willing to give him a reprieve for his indiscretion, and started talking about Baltar. It took his mind a few seconds to catch up with the sudden shift into business, and he completely missed her opening sentences.
"…I told him I didn't take any satisfaction in seeing his pain," she was saying, "But the truth is, I was willing to see him endure a great deal of suffering, in order to get what I wanted. It wasn't some intelligence or some truth. I wanted a genuine admission of guilt."
"That's something that you're not gonna get from someone like Baltar," he replied, trying to ease her conscience. "He doesn't see himself that way. It's not who he is. In his eyes he's the victim, not the criminal."
She stared at the ceiling, as if trying to see her way through the mess that the ex-President's reappearance was going to cause.
"It's not too late for him to just disappear," he offered quietly. While she had advocated ruthless courses of action in the past, he was desperately hoping she didn't take him up on this offer.
Laura smiled sadly and placed her hand gently on his arm.
"We can't do that," she whispered. "For all his crimes, he's one of us."
There was silence as each contemplated the situation.
"So what happens next?" he asked finally.
"We give him his trial."
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
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