"Save the Last Dance" - Adama/Roslin Fic
Title: Save the Last Dance
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: T
Word Count: 705 words
Disclaimer: Not my character or television show.
A/N: Written for the "space prom 2" prompt at about_time. Thanks to redrockcan for her encouragement.
“Bill?” The hatch to the shared quarters screeched and moaned as the guard outside opened it for her. She couldn’t have opened it even if she wanted to. Between the recent start of doloxin treatments and the stress of the day, Laura was grateful to just be able to stand on her own two feet.
The lights had been dimmed considerably in the cabin; that, coupled with the closed hatch piqued Laura’s curiosity. Bill never closed the hatch until Laura returned to his quarters for the night.
“Hey,” a soft rumble emerged from the area nearest the rack. He was clad in a dark grey t-shirt and loose black pants that he wore to bed. She eyed the exposed muscle of his upper arms and shoulders appreciatively.
Bill walked towards her with long, sure strides: “You’re home,” he said; obviously pleased by this fact. He fixed her with that intense gaze of his, and she felt slightly overwhelmed by his affection for her.
Things between them were still complicated; they were partners, leaders, friends, and occasional lovers. She still hadn’t summoned the courage to tell him how she felt. Part of her had been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since he first told her that he loved her.
“Why’d you close the hatch?” she asked. “And why are the lights out, are we having a power outage?” She kicked her shoes off and placed her bag next to her desk. He helped her shed her blazer and remove her glasses.
“Nope,” he said. “Everything is in working order Madam President.”
“Well then, Admiral, care to explain to me why you are acting so strange?” She arched her eyebrow at him and he returned the gesture.
“I have no idea what you are referring to.” His face was the picture perfect of innocence.
“Mmm, you are such a terrible liar.” Her eyes sparkled impishly and her hand came to rest over his heart. “Tell me,” she asked softly.
He grinned widely: “Happy Colonial Day,” and lowered his head to capture her lips in a soft kiss.
“Colonial Day? Oh my Gods. I completely forgot,” she admitted breathlessly.
“I know.” His chastising was gentle, but Laura heard the concern that laced his words.
She peered over his shoulder on the tips of her toes: “Do I see candles behind you?”
“Dunno, do you?” He took her hand in his and led her towards the “bedroom” area of his cabin. Laura could hear soft music playing; the tempo was lazy and sensual, intimate and familiar. There were indeed candles surrounding them, the main lights had been extinguished completely leaving this part of the quarters bathed in only a soft glow. It was a devastatingly romantic picture.
He gave her hand a slight squeeze before guiding her to the middle of the space and encouraging her to sway gently to the beat. Overwhelmed by his gesture, she followed his lead. Her head rested on his shoulder, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck, his arms enveloped her completely.
This was the first time that they had danced together since their first Colonial Day; that first dance felt like a lifetime ago.
He kissed the top of her head gently. He could see already that the doloxin was starting to thin out the glorious mass of hair on her head. His heart clenched; he could count on less than two hands the number of scant times he’d been permitted to run his hands through the unruly cooper mane.
Laura sighed: “This is nice. I missed this.”
Her soft confession brought him back to their first night together. Sprawled out on sandbags and with the stars as their backdrop, he’d finally loved her with his body as thoroughly and completely as he’d loved her with his heart for two years. Safe in his arms, she’d first admitted that she had always loved the simple intimacy of his embrace.
“Maybe we should enjoy this,” his gravely words tickled her forehead as she looked up at him.
He leaned forward to kiss away the small tear that was trailing a wet caress down her cheek.
She smiled beautifully at him: “I am Bill, I really am.”
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: T
Word Count: 705 words
Disclaimer: Not my character or television show.
A/N: Written for the "space prom 2" prompt at about_time. Thanks to redrockcan for her encouragement.
“Bill?” The hatch to the shared quarters screeched and moaned as the guard outside opened it for her. She couldn’t have opened it even if she wanted to. Between the recent start of doloxin treatments and the stress of the day, Laura was grateful to just be able to stand on her own two feet.
The lights had been dimmed considerably in the cabin; that, coupled with the closed hatch piqued Laura’s curiosity. Bill never closed the hatch until Laura returned to his quarters for the night.
“Hey,” a soft rumble emerged from the area nearest the rack. He was clad in a dark grey t-shirt and loose black pants that he wore to bed. She eyed the exposed muscle of his upper arms and shoulders appreciatively.
Bill walked towards her with long, sure strides: “You’re home,” he said; obviously pleased by this fact. He fixed her with that intense gaze of his, and she felt slightly overwhelmed by his affection for her.
Things between them were still complicated; they were partners, leaders, friends, and occasional lovers. She still hadn’t summoned the courage to tell him how she felt. Part of her had been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since he first told her that he loved her.
“Why’d you close the hatch?” she asked. “And why are the lights out, are we having a power outage?” She kicked her shoes off and placed her bag next to her desk. He helped her shed her blazer and remove her glasses.
“Nope,” he said. “Everything is in working order Madam President.”
“Well then, Admiral, care to explain to me why you are acting so strange?” She arched her eyebrow at him and he returned the gesture.
“I have no idea what you are referring to.” His face was the picture perfect of innocence.
“Mmm, you are such a terrible liar.” Her eyes sparkled impishly and her hand came to rest over his heart. “Tell me,” she asked softly.
He grinned widely: “Happy Colonial Day,” and lowered his head to capture her lips in a soft kiss.
“Colonial Day? Oh my Gods. I completely forgot,” she admitted breathlessly.
“I know.” His chastising was gentle, but Laura heard the concern that laced his words.
She peered over his shoulder on the tips of her toes: “Do I see candles behind you?”
“Dunno, do you?” He took her hand in his and led her towards the “bedroom” area of his cabin. Laura could hear soft music playing; the tempo was lazy and sensual, intimate and familiar. There were indeed candles surrounding them, the main lights had been extinguished completely leaving this part of the quarters bathed in only a soft glow. It was a devastatingly romantic picture.
He gave her hand a slight squeeze before guiding her to the middle of the space and encouraging her to sway gently to the beat. Overwhelmed by his gesture, she followed his lead. Her head rested on his shoulder, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck, his arms enveloped her completely.
This was the first time that they had danced together since their first Colonial Day; that first dance felt like a lifetime ago.
He kissed the top of her head gently. He could see already that the doloxin was starting to thin out the glorious mass of hair on her head. His heart clenched; he could count on less than two hands the number of scant times he’d been permitted to run his hands through the unruly cooper mane.
Laura sighed: “This is nice. I missed this.”
Her soft confession brought him back to their first night together. Sprawled out on sandbags and with the stars as their backdrop, he’d finally loved her with his body as thoroughly and completely as he’d loved her with his heart for two years. Safe in his arms, she’d first admitted that she had always loved the simple intimacy of his embrace.
“Maybe we should enjoy this,” his gravely words tickled her forehead as she looked up at him.
He leaned forward to kiss away the small tear that was trailing a wet caress down her cheek.
She smiled beautifully at him: “I am Bill, I really am.”