The Presidential Uniform
Title:
The Presidential Uniform
Author: nvgvup
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Word Count: 200
Author’s Note: For Challenge No 44: Revelations on ar_drabbles.
I have to thank akachankami for giving me the encouragement I needed to finish this!
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Ronald D. Moore. He’s a very lucky man.
The President of the Twelve Colonies had a uniform the Admiral had come to know very well. Every skirt, jacket, and shirt catalogued subconsciously with the mood and type of day it often accompanied.
Bill Adama had seen Laura out of that uniform on very few occasions. A cream windbreaker in the glow of Kobol mist. A red dress in the New Caprican sun. A periwinkle gown in the confines of sickbay that he’d rather forget.
But when the President took up residence in the Admiral’s quarters, Bill discovered a new uniform that was even more precious to him than the sight of her bare feet propped on his couch in stolen moments of comfort.
Her robe - Or rather their robe - was Laura’s uniform of choice as they ate quiet dinners at the end of long days, as she relaxed reading on the couch, as she completed paperwork at his desk. It was the first thing she donned when her days came to an end and her mornings began. For Bill Adama, seeing Laura in the thick brown of their robe was a sweeter revelation than the feel of her soft silk gown between the sheets at night.
Author: nvgvup
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Word Count: 200
Author’s Note: For Challenge No 44: Revelations on ar_drabbles.
I have to thank akachankami for giving me the encouragement I needed to finish this!
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Ronald D. Moore. He’s a very lucky man.
The President of the Twelve Colonies had a uniform the Admiral had come to know very well. Every skirt, jacket, and shirt catalogued subconsciously with the mood and type of day it often accompanied.
Bill Adama had seen Laura out of that uniform on very few occasions. A cream windbreaker in the glow of Kobol mist. A red dress in the New Caprican sun. A periwinkle gown in the confines of sickbay that he’d rather forget.
But when the President took up residence in the Admiral’s quarters, Bill discovered a new uniform that was even more precious to him than the sight of her bare feet propped on his couch in stolen moments of comfort.
Her robe - Or rather their robe - was Laura’s uniform of choice as they ate quiet dinners at the end of long days, as she relaxed reading on the couch, as she completed paperwork at his desk. It was the first thing she donned when her days came to an end and her mornings began. For Bill Adama, seeing Laura in the thick brown of their robe was a sweeter revelation than the feel of her soft silk gown between the sheets at night.