Disclaimer: It's been years since I've written any sort of fanfic— even more in English, which is not my native tongue. Therefore, every typo and mistake is on me! Thanks to my awesome betas WeAreCylons for their insights!

BSG, these wonderful characters and everything related belongs to the genius that is Ron D. Moore, I own nothing. I just wish I did ;)

Set in season 3, this story takes place in a window between Exodus, Part 2 and Collaborators. Enjoy!

The first thing Admiral Adama asks for as soon as the fleet leaves New Caprica are the ships manifests. With the chaos of the aftermath he doubts they'll be entirely reliable, but at least he can get an idea of how many people came back home.

And admittedly, who came back too.

Even as he saw most of them already, there is a new wave of relief when he reads names like Kara Thrace, Felix Gaeta, Galen Tyrol, and of course, Saul Tigh. Most of his crew made out, but he confirms the hero that brought the fleet back together once again had to leave his Ellen behind and takes a mental note to leave the admiral behind next time he gets to speak off duty to his XO. Maybe he wants to talk about it and even if he doesn't, he surely needs him as his friend right now. For all the bad influence Ellen Tigh proved to be, Saul truly loved her.

Still, Bill can't keep his thoughts focused on him when another name catches his interest, and the remaining weight in his stomach is lifted in an instant.

Laura Roslin.

He had had no doubt she had made it, but having concrete proof of it is the best reward he could have hoped for; she's safe aboard Colonial One. Even though Bill knows the significance of her leaving New Caprica on that particular ship and what it means for her, and for him as well, he can now focus entirely on rebuilding the fleet. Laura will find the time to fly to Galactica and though his officers going home takes priority, he'll make sure Raptors are dispatched to Colonial One at some point if requested.

For now, with his crew back from the planet and the late Pegasus officers in need of reassignments at his battlestar, the old girl needs him more.

It takes about 30 hours after the exodus for him to see Laura. She and Tory spent most of the time putting the office of the President back together, figuring out what Baltar and his people had done in the almost a year and a half of his term. It had been a complete mess, papers and folios organized very differently from what they were accustomed to, and that was only in the cases where there was any type of order to begin with. Since the occupation, virtually every single document had been stacked in the first place available.

Once finished (with a nap right in her desk instead of a full night's sleep), Laura had asked for a transport to Galactica. However, it was not granted immediately as Colonial One had no military crew in need of a Raptor aboard. And so, she had to wait patiently until the fleet unscrambled itself to what it used to be, which took somewhat close to two hours after her initial request.

Not that she minds. If anything, she's grateful that although she has no real reason to travel other than a simple civilian wanting to go to Galactica, she's been admitted back. Maybe is the lingering power of the office of the president (not hers but the ship's), or maybe it's the admiral's doing. She hopes for the latter, or at least, she hopes Bill knows she's coming, because she understands he won't have much time to take a break and talk to her.

Once Laura's Raptor lands on the hangar deck, she sets off on her own to the admiral's quarters. For the first time since the decommissioning, she's free to walk alone and without escort around the ship; nobody cares about where she's heading or why she's carrying a small bag with her. She sees marines in the corridors, keeping their eyes on her from time to time and she can only guess someone told them to make sure she's safe during her visit, but it's certainly different than before. Not that she will have time to get used to it anyways.

She hasn't talked to Zarek yet, but the fact that the Vice-President has made no contact with Colonial One tells her one thing: he's backing off. He has made no move to be on that ship because he has no intention of being president in the long run. He's just letting her remember everything, letting her crave for the presidency again, so to speak, until he formally offers it back to her. And while accepting is for the best, Laura can only cringe at what Zarek will ask in return.

The two usual marines are posted at the hatch of Bill's quarters and smile at her appearance. She remembers them all too well.

"Welcome back, Madame President," one says.

"Thank you. It's good to be back," she admits, and doesn't bother to correct him regarding the title. "Is the admiral inside?"

"Yes ma'am, he just came in." And with that, he knocks on the hatch and as soon as he gets confirmation from the other side, opens it for her.

Laura gets inside, the hatch closing back behind her, and notices Bill standing in the middle of the cabin. It doesn't take a wild guess to figure out he was expecting her.

He purposefully walks toward her and she meets him halfway, leaving the bag on the floor and melding into a fierce embrace. She can't stop grinning. "You shaved," she teases him.

"You're exactly the same," he rasps back.

Laura could argue she's lost some weight since the occupation, but merely presses him slightly against herself before releasing him. He cradles her cheek as if needing solid proof she's real and she leans against his hand, happy to provide it. Their eyes meet and though she doesn't mention it out loud, Bill can very much read what she's saying without words: Thank you for coming back. For honoring my faith in you.

They remain in silence, just watching each other amidst the mirth, the relief of being together once more. Saying anything else is simply too overwhelming.

"How are you?" he asks after a while, the question deliberately vague in order to let her answer whatever she's ready to tell him. He won't push.

She licks her lips and holds his gaze for a few seconds before blinking in a slow manner. "I'm... fine, considering," she remarks. Her small yet warm smirk tells him she's not lying; it seems the Cylons never tortured her. "Kept myself busy, trying to make sense of Baltar's mess."

But he also notices she won't talk about New Caprica yet. She might not have gone through the same experiences as Saul, but clearly has her own demons too.

"What happened to him?" He doesn't really want to know, but inquiring is part of his duty. After all, that frakking weasel was the commander-in-chief until very recently.

"It appears he was last seen leaving Colonial One with the Cylons, sometime before we got on board."

He nods. "Zarek?"

He's aware the terrorist survived but he's not asking about that, and Laura knows what he means.

"He's going to ask me to be president," she confirms.

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

Bill nods again. Maybe he won't have to coerce him out of the job after all. But then again, a quick chat with him might speed matters...

And it is at that moment that Laura suppresses a yawn and he can't care the least about Zarek. Concerned, he moves a little closer to her and looks down at her eyes.

"You kept yourself busy all right. Have you had any sleep at all?" he questions.

She shamelessly smiles and shakes her head. "A few hours, but I'm okay." She didn't get more sleep because she didn't have enough time or because she has nightmares now? He doesn't dare to ask at the moment. "But that reminds me, Bill. I wonder if there's any quarters for me to stay for the night?"

It is then when he finally notices the bag at her feet.

"You want to stay on Galactica?"

"Yes, if possible. I'd rather not sleep in my quarters —or I guess, President Zarek's quarters— on Colonial One until they've been thoroughly disinfected. Three times," she jokingly adds, but he knows she'd really ask for it if she could. And he can't blame her, who'd want to sleep where Gaius frakking Baltar has resided for over a year?

Bill smiles sympathetic. "Crew's going back to their posts and we are also receiving whomever needs accommodations in the guest quarters, but," he pauses for a second, "I'll ask if there's anything we can do."

"I appreciate it, Admiral."

Bill strides to the comm unit and unhooks the receiver, where he asks to be put through to Helo. In the meantime, Laura crosses her arms tightly in front of her chest while her gaze stumbles upon every detail of the cabin: the books, the model ships, the paintings, the couch... she's really there. Galactica came back and with her, the rest of the fleet. The people (and by extension Laura) are once again away from that sorry rock of New Caprica, away from the Cylons.

And more importantly, back with Bill.

Everything will return to normal in a matter of days, to what their normal means after the end of the world. She will be sworn back in as president, and once again she and Admiral Adama will lead what remains of humanity to Earth; the fleet will be back on course, pretending the last year and a half never happened. But Laura knows the scars run too deep, the memories too fresh and too awful to be pushed away with ease, and yet, she got off lightly. Seeing Colonel Tigh's face is enough to remind her.

She realizes the tenseness of her body when Bill walks back to her, and she expectantly meets his gaze. She hasn't moved from where she has been, in the exact same point where she had felt his arms around her and held him in return, and forces herself to relax her muscles now that she's not alone. It's okay, she tells herself. It'll be okay. You are on Galactica, with Bill.

But the man shakes his head when he's just a few steps from her, where he stops. "We're packed," he explains.

Laura throws her shoulders down, defeated. "I understand."

"However..." Bill begins, trailing off. She waits for him to continue. "If you don't mind, and you really want to be out of Colonial One for the night, you can stay here."

"Here?" she asks, frowning. Didn't he just say the ship's guest quarters are full? But then Bill gestures vaguely around them and she realizes he's speaking of a different set of quarters. His. "Oh," she manages out.

"That is, if you don't mind," he repeats. He then shrugs lightly. "I can sleep on my couch tonight."

Laura can't help but smile. Bill Adama, always the gentleman.

If it were any other time, she certainly would have answered with a flirty comment coated with playfulness, but at this moment everything weighs heavily on her and even though she's already used to, it feels like it's too much. Getting rid of the Cylons, the months of torture and slavery, the people they had to leave behind during the escape, the burden of command that will surely fall back on her shoulders... The two of them had shared wonderful times in New Caprica, when he had been on shore leave and she had just been a teacher, but those times are gone. They don't need to talk about it, they both know so. Whatever they had had besides their friendship is now over.

"I can't impose. Let alone get the admiral out of his rack, of all people," she hears herself saying.

But he knows her well enough and shakes his head. He places his hands on her arms, just below her shoulders, his deep blue eyes meeting her green counterparts. "It's no trouble, Laura."

And that simple gesture threatens to send her over the edge. She feels the sting in her eyes as they fill up with water; she's missed this. She missed someone to talk to, someone who sees what's going on inside her mind without her making a sound. Someone who can understand her. She missed him.

"Thank you, Bill."

::::::::::

Laura spent the remaining hours of Bill's shift in his quarters while the admiral was in CIC, she really didn't have any place to go for the moment. After all Zarek was still legally the president amidst Baltar's disappearance and she could only wait until he made his move and presented her with the only reasonable option by returning the office of the president back to her. She can't push him to do so, though, and deep down she doesn't want to either. What prize will she have to pay for him to step down? On the other hand, there's also nothing else to be archived back at Colonial One, the ship is scheduled to be swept for remnant Cylon devices the next morning (and fortunately thanks to Tory, also to get the President's quarters cleaned) and until then, she won't feel like it's exactly her place.

As many times before, Bill's bookshelf came to her rescue. Laura was actually glad she had convinced him she didn't have time to read on New Caprica any more, to prevent him from giving her more of his books. In reality it had been a lame excuse because she couldn't deal with the heartbreak that was having something of his in the settlement and not Bill in person, but it had also meant none of the precious volumes of his bookshelf were left behind. As expected, Laura curled herself up on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her, and dived inside the first book she found she hadn't touched yet.

When Bill gets back he finds her in the exact same position, except she's drifted off. They have learned to live with the stress from one crisis to another without pause, but the last few days have taken a toll on everyone. Even with her illness long gone and taking into account the little rest she got the night before, Laura has every reason to be tired.

As a matter of fact Bill is pretty tired too, and she's on what will be his bed for the night. Accepting he has to wake her up, he walks towards her and sits by the edge of the couch, where he gently places a hand on her wrist. "Laura," he calls softly, his deep voice carrying over the silence of the cabin.

She opens her eyes and when she registers her companion, she grins at him. "Hi."

"Hi," he echoes, both the word and the smile. "Come on, time for bed. Have you eaten something before you fell asleep?" he asks as he looks away from her, trying to find evidence on the affirmative.

She points at the empty plates by the service cart. "I called the galley some time ago," she confirms, her voice still thick in sleep.

Bill nods satisfied, takes the book out of her hands and helps her get up, her legs numbed by the position had she kept while slumbering but she finally makes her way to the head on her own. In the meantime Bill talks to the crew members in the kitchen and as soon as Laura emerges, he rises again from the couch for his turn in the head. He would normally eat dinner in uniform before changing into his pajamas, but he doesn't want to disturb Laura later.

However when he sees her walking toward his rack, he has a hard time following his plan instead of following her: she doesn't appear to notice his stare and Bill prays to the gods he doesn't believe in for that to be the case, because gazing at her in nothing but her nightgown and robe doesn't really help him at all. It's been less than two days since the exodus of New Caprica and he had spent several months before not even knowing if he'd ever see her again, nobody can expect his self-control to be a paramount of virtue at the moment.

But Laura barely murmurs a soft, "Goodnight, Bill," as she gets the covers up to her neck and faces the bulkhead.

"Goodnight, Laura," he answers, even though he knows she's already asleep. A few seconds later, he resumes his walk to the head.

::::::::::

When Laura opens her eyes again, she can't recall where she is at first. It takes her several seconds and the permanent, gentle rumble from the ship's engines to remember she's on Galactica, and more specifically in Bill's quarters. She could almost believe for a moment she was still on New Caprica, everything else just a dream; it's Bill's scent coming from the covers and enveloping her what keeps her grounded.

But it was not a dream, they really got out of the planet. They survived and she's going to be president again, except Colonial One is scheduled for a clean up until tomorrow and that's why she's spending the night away from her ship in the meantime. Laura remembers it crystal clear now.

She rolls to the other side of the rack looking for a watch. It's only 1:34.

But now that she is fully awake, Laura finds herself having trouble getting back to sleep. Bill's scent is everywhere and it's distracting; even the pillows smell like him.

She decides to remove the covers and sit by the edge of the mattress, where she blindly reaches for her robe. After putting it on, she brushes her auburn strands out of her face and gets up, slowly walking to the couch.

Even in the dim light she can see the admiral is sound asleep, his chest rhythmically going up and down underneath the sheets. He's on his back, with both hands on top of him and his head not quite leaning to the side, breathing heavily (it's so faint that Laura can't really call it snoring) every few seconds. The peacefulness of his features warms her heart.

"Bill," she calls him gently. She bends down, placing a knee at the floor to reach the couch's height. "Bill. Bill, wake up."

Suddenly, his military instinct kicks in and he opens his eyes before getting up on his elbow, instantly worried. "Laura? What's wrong, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay," she soothes him. "It's just—" her voice trails off. She takes a few seconds to gather herself, and yet her next words are only a whisper. "I don't want to be alone."

Bill pulls his own covers away in order to follow her back to the rack and stay by her side until she dozes again, but Laura stops him before he completely removes the sheets. "Don't," she says, and he finally comprehends what she's asking.

Nodding, he rolls to his side to make room for her and Laura slips into his welcoming arms. His warmth surrounds her along with his solid bulk, and as she rests her head just under his chin, she's able to hear his heart pounding faster at her presence. She places a hand on his chest to feel it more clearly and when the steady and slightly quick thump, thump, thump reaches her skin, months' worth of worries finally creep out of her. Laura starts to cry in silence, moving her arm to embrace him by the waist.

Bill holds her close, his wide palms fiercely attached to her back. He won't let her go, not tonight, not ever if he could. He knows the latter is not an option, they still have responsibilities towards the fleet, but those will wait until morning. For now, Laura can cry as much as she needs to before reaching for her presidential mask again.

Vulnerable is not a word anyone in the fleet would use to describe Laura Roslin, and even as she's in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably, it isn't be the adjective Bill would choose either. She's the strongest person he's ever met, president or not, man or woman, civilian or military. She's a rock, and while he's aware of his role as her pillar, he also knows she would have managed without him.

The same cannot be said the other way around.

If there is one thing he'd learned about Laura Roslin, it's that she is not a woman who needed saving. If anything, she had saved him.

Maybe in more ways than she realizes, and even more ways he's aware of.

"I missed you," she quietly admits after a while. She never doubted Bill would come back for them, but some days it felt like she only had her hope to blindly hang on to.

He plants a soft kiss on the top of her head as a response. "Missed you too," he says, blinking his own tears away. His tone, however, shows he's affected as well.

Bill sweeps across her back in lazy patterns when he feels she's calming down, though it might be that she ran out of tears to shed. Whatever the case, she relaxes back in his arms and inhales deeply, a faint sigh at the end. Gods, she needed this.

"Thank you," she says again, whispering against his neck.

Her breath makes him shiver but he makes no attempt to gain some distance. He still remembers there are fewer layers of clothing between them than usual (her breasts pressing against his chest makes it impossible to forget), but it is not the time to take the next step. There might never be an opportune moment, he ruefully admits to himself, but if that's the prize for loving Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies, he will pay it.

"Anytime, Laura," he murmurs affectionately.

She tries to disentangle herself out of his embrace, to let him go back to sleep, but her movement is so weak he doesn't release her. He doesn't want to.

"Stay," he pleads.

Laura also catches the meaning underneath: Until morning. Until we have to go back to being what the fleet needs us to be.

"Okay," she accepts, and Bill loosens his grip for her to find a more comfortable position on the couch.

Laura settles her head on the pillow and the rest of her as close to him as she was before, not like the furniture's width would let it be any other way but that's how she wants it too. Her right hand over his hip, her left still close to his heart and both of his own on the small of her back, the place he knows like home from the many times he's guided her through the corridors of Galactica, they fit perfectly in the narrow space.

She leans a little bit more towards him and their lips brush, just a brief contact that nonetheless propels her to close her eyes. When she opens them again she sees Bill smiling and she mirrors the gesture, but the exhaustion is ready to knock her off and she blinks rapidly to push it back. It's futile, however, and the last thing Laura registers before drifting asleep again is a tired but delighted admiral fighting sleep just like she is.

He grins one more time before following her. I got her back. Even with her closed eyes, swollen and puffy due to her earlier outburst, she's the most beautiful person he's ever seen. And he's humbly aware she doesn't let anybody see her like this except for him, her guard completely down. Even when she breaks into a hundred single pieces and puts herself together, of which he has little doubt she'll rise stronger than before, she is beautiful.

"Love you," he softly admits as he loses consciousness.