I do not own any of the characters below – I am only borrowing them – and will not be financially benefitting from the story in anyway. This is my 1st fic – so any feedback – good or bad – will be welcomed.

Takes place between Lay Down Your Burdens Part 2 and Occupation so spoilers throughout.

Rated T

The Missing Link

William Adama slowly removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, the tiresome job of report reading taking its toll on his aging eyes.

Unfortunately, the current situation being what it was - the renewing of his eyewear prescription had become a luxury that along with cheese steaks and bubble baths, was long gone.

He loosened the collar of his military issue jacket by unfastening the top three buttons, and looked wistfully at the gold framed spectacles.

Even now, two years after the fall of the colonies – the need for something that was unattainable would unexpectedly crop up. The realisation that the 'thing' that he needed to complete a task or the activity he longed for, were impossible – was devastating.

The gaping void between where civilisation was and where they now found themselves was once again crudely exposed. The darkness that the admiral tried so hard to keep at bay began to creep in – causing him to retreat into himself for solace.

Bill knew that those situations would forever continue to arise; they were an inevitable part of their new lives now. However he desperately longed that the heartache they caused him, would ease over time.

A soft rapping at his door dragged him out of the reverie and back to reality with an annoying thud.

"Oh for the love of frak…" Dropping his glasses onto the cluttered desk he groaned as he got to his feet.

A caller at this late hour never brought with them a promise of a good night's sleep - something that Bill's aching bones very much desired this evening.

He purposefully marched across the short space from his desk and yanked the heavy steel door open, hoping to express his distain at being disturbed to whoever Colonel Tigh had sent to report the latest crisis.

He was however, met by a rather startled looking Laura Roslin.

His features instantly softened and his taught expression of anger was replaced with one of concern for his friend. Despite their growing closeness – an unannounced late night call was completely out of character.

"Ms Roslin, is everything ok?"

"Is this a bad time Admiral? I could come back…"

"No…No sorry, come in…"

He stepped aside and allowed her to slip past him into the dimly lit room, nodding to his security detail that he was happy for the guest to enter his quarters.

His eyes followed her as she breezed past him and it was only now he noticed how different she appeared this evening.

Her long, auburn hair - usually neatly styled - was pulled back loosely into a band. Her ordinarily no nonsense business attire had been replaced with a pair of dark blue jeans - that were a little too long, a white vest and an oversized grey wool cardigan.

The former Presidents casual dress however, was in direct contrast to her physical behaviour.

Laura hovered awkwardly by his brown leather couch. Her arms were crossed defensively around her chest, and she was glancing around the room like she had entered for the first time – looking anywhere but directly at him.

Truthfully, Bill also felt a little uncomfortable in Laura's presence.

Their last meeting on Colonial One had put an end to her Presidential reign and even though the decision to back out of fixing the votes had, ultimately been a joint one, he couldn't help but feel that she held him slightly responsible.

From a distance, he had watched her at Baltar's Inauguration ceremony. Always the professional, she had appeared gracious in her defeat. However, to the trained eye, and Bill was well trained in the art of reading Laura Roslin, it was obvious that she was struggling.

He knew that her internal plight was not a result of jealousy, of a selfish need to have won the votes of her constituents; it was born out of unease. The welfare of the entire human race now lay in the hands of Gaius Baltar.

This was an anxiety that Bill most definitely shared, and of late, had been the cause of many sleepless nights.

"Can I get you a drink?" He moved over to the drinks cabinet, pulling out a half-full bottle of ambrosia.

The light from Bill's desk lamp reflected off of the glass bottle and the glint drew Laura's attention towards the Admiral. She smiled shyly as their eyes met.

"I'd love one..."

Laura was conscious of the fact that Bill believed she was mad at him. Well, maybe she was a little. She did take some satisfaction from the fact the he was torturing himself over pushing her to step down.

Yet if she was honest with herself, as soon as she admitted to him that she had known of Tory's plans, and she saw that look of disappointment on his face…Laura knew that she couldn't go through with it.

Bill looked away as he poured the emerald nectar into a couple of thick glass tumblers and she watched him.

They had grown so much closer over the past year, which was hard to believe considering their turbulent, early history. As their trust in one another had increased, their friendship had grown.

Looking back, Laura couldn't quite remember when she first realised that her feelings for Bill had developed beyond that. She just knew that those feelings had to be quashed.

Their responsibilities to the welfare of the fleet meant that exploring a relationship that was anything more that platonic was unacceptable – the progression of her illness and her inescapable demise made it impossible.

Her miraculous recovery had made their relationship more complicated – her feelings towards him much harder to supress. The curing of her cancer meant that even though the possibility was still unacceptable – it was certainly no longer impossible.

And now that President Roslin was simply Laura Roslin, she hoped that what she was here to tell Bill, wouldn't damage that possibility.

When Bill looked up, Laura was still watching him.

"You look different in civvies…" He commented on her attire as he picked up the glasses and moved towards her.

She let out a small laugh and it warmed him.

"Oh, do you like?" She uncrossed her arms and pivoted slowly, an amused smile spreading across her face.

"I've worn nothing but those damned suits for two years…Tory found this ensemble and a few other variations…when she still worked for me…" Sadness crept into her eyes momentarily. "I do need to alter the length on these…" She motioned to her jeans that pooled around her feet. "But as Tory was unable to find me suitable footwear…" Laura lifted up her jeans to reveal her Presidential black patent leather court shoes. "I thought I'd leave them long for a while…"

They shared a smile.

"Good plan."

Bill handed her a glass and motioned for Laura to take a seat on the couch.

She perched at the far end and cradling her drink in her hands, focussed on the wall in front of her and slowly began to build up the courage to tell him of her plans.

Bill took a seat next to her and turned his body to face her.

He watched her intently – her eyes were narrowed, accentuating the fine lines that surrounded them – she was deep in thought and clearly needed to tell him something important.

They sat in silence for a few moments – but as the awkwardness began to return, Bill spoke up.

"So…how are you settling into your guest quarters on board Galactica?"

"Good… thanks I erm…" She glanced at him momentarily and cleared her throat. "I've been catching up on some sleep…" She took a sip of her ambrosia, inhaling sharply as the liquid burnt her throat and placed her glass on the coffee table. "I didn't realise quite how exhausted I was…

She twisted to face him and pulled the band from her hair allowing it to fall loosely around her shoulders. "You probably don't notice it anymore, but there's this low, humming sound that fills this ship at night…I used to listen to it in sick bay… its oddly comforting…"

Bill smiled and nodded in agreement. "I know exactly what you mean. It's the generators – when I had shore leave, I used to struggle to sleep without them…"

"Strange, the things that we miss…"

Silence filed the space between them once again but this time, Laura found the confidence and broke it.

"President Baltar came to see me…"

Bill placed his drink on the table. "Oh?"

"He had a…proposition of sorts…"

"Go on…" As Bill's interest piqued he leant towards her.

"There are plans in place to set up a small school on New Caprica and our President has requested that I teach there." She waved her arm in the air dismissively. "He spouted something about needing somebody with my teaching expertise to help to mould the minds of the future…" She shook her head. "Honestly Bill, I think he just wants me where he can keep an eye on me…."

"Is he worried that you might stage a coup?" He grinned.

"Don't tempt me…" She arched her eyebrow returned his smile before falling silent again, her attention once again turning to the ambrosia.

Bill waited for her to elaborate – but when she didn't he pressed on. "So…you came here tonight to what? Ask for my advice?"

"No... No Bill I didn't," She took a deep breath returning her drink to the table and this time she looked right at him. The intensity of her stare instantly darkened the mood. "I erm… I came here tonight, to tell you that… I have accepted Baltar's offer –and that I am leaving for New Caprica."

All of the air left Bills lungs – he felt winded. A breathy "What…?" was all that he could muster.

"I'm sorry..."

"You're sorry?" He frowned, before a look of disgust coated his features. "After all of your reservations about that fracking planet, you're just gonna jump at the first opportunity to move down there? On a promise from Baltar none the less…"

"I don't expect you to understand this Bill…"

"You're right. I don't." He spat out his words.

"I feel lost here! " She raised her voice and Bill stopped talking. He clenched his jaw, his face twitching as he waited for her to proceed.

She looked down at her hands in her lap and her hair fell in front of her face, shielding her from his glare. "I have tried so hard… to be the person…No - the President that everybody expected me to be and…Gods…." She sighed and her shoulders slumped forwards. "…I've had to make decisions that have…changed me… and it wasn't until this week that I realised… somewhere along the way I seem to have forgotten how to just be…Laura…"

As Bill listened to her words he physically felt his anger towards her begin to dissipate.

"I guess…I guess I'm just hoping that by going back to teaching… that I'll find myself…" She chortled and continued to speak down to her lap. "I know that sounds ridiculous…like I'm going through some kind of midlife crisis…"

Bill watched her intently as she opened up to him. He internally scolded himself for not going to see her this week when she had, quite obviously needed his support.

Presidents strive to be leaders.

They slowly climb the ladder of success and along the way they accumulate the skills required to arm and mentally prepare them for the challenges in office.

Laura Roslin literally had the weight of the worlds dropped on her shoulders.

Bill stretched his arm out and lifted her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

As she turned her face towards him he realised that she had been crying and he felt a pang of guilt for the way he had reacted.

Instinctively, he gently wiped at her tears and brought his hand to rest delicately on her cheek.

"It's not ridiculous Laura."

"Really?" She smiled through her tears.

"Really… I'm sorry I reacted that way… I'm… "

"I know…I'm going to miss you too Bill…"

As he stared into her troubled green eyes, a feeling of regret washed over him.

Had he missed an opportunity? Had he let his military training and stupid rules and responsibilities cloud his judgement? There had always been a spark, a flirtation between them that had seemed to be heading somewhere - but now that she had chosen to leave…maybe he had misread the signals...

With a sigh, he dropped his hand to his side and grabbing his drink off of the table he leaned back into the cushions of the couch and asked the obvious question.

"So…when do you leave?"

She looked away and spoke quietly. "I leave tomorrow at 0900."

"What?" Bill felt the anger return and it propelled him to his feet. "You're leaving tomorrow? How long have you known that you were leaving?"

He started to pace and Laura watched silently, stunned by his sudden outburst.

"I said how long?" He span to face her, shouting, the change in volume made her jump slightly.

"Baltar came to see me after his inauguration…I responded a few days later but…" She rose to her feet, her stance defensive.

"That was over a week ago!" His voice grew louder.

Laura couldn't respond because she knew he was right. She had put this conversation off for so long because she knew how hurt he would be, but she never expected such anger.

Her silence only incensed him further.

"You've known that you were leaving for over a fracking week and didn't think to tell me? Good to know that I'm so low down your list of priorities… Frak!". He slammed his drink down on the table, and the glass smashed - the noise reverberating around the room.

He turned his back on her and Laura took the opportunity to make her escape. "I don't have to stand here and be spoken to like this…." She shouted as she crossed his office and headed for the door.

"Oh, no you don't…" Bill quickly spun on his heal and crossed the room after her – grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her towards him. "We're not leaving it like this…"

He pulled her in close, till they were inches apart- she could smell the ambrosia on his breath – see the pain in his eyes.

Bill lowered his voice. At this proximity, his gravelly tones sent a shiver down her spine. "I thought this was going somewhere Laura. I thought we were…?"

His blue eyes searched hers for an answer.

"It was…it is…you're hurting me…." She whimpered.

Bill realised that he still held her wrist tightly and loosened his grip -but to his surprise - she didn't pull away.

Instead, she affectionately placed her hand on his right arm and stared into his eyes – pleading with him to understand.

"I'm sorry Bill, I need this – it's important that I to do this…for me…"

Slowly she saw the hurt begin to subside – to be replaced with something else entirely.

"Okay."

She frowned "Okay?"

"As long as you understand …that I need this for me."

She didn't have the chance to process his last statement before his lips crashed into hers. The unexpected force sent her stumbling backwards, Bill followed, supporting her lower back with his hand until she slammed into the hatch door.

A small groan escaped her lips as the handle connected with her hip – but she didn't care. She pulled him closer – relishing in the feeling of his body being pressed against hers.

Their kiss deepened and they hungrily grabbed at each other, their hands and mouths eagerly exploring new territory.

Bill pivoted them away from the door, heading back towards the couch as he removed her cardigan and slipped a hand under her vest, his thumb grazing the soft skin of her ribcage.

Laura arched her back towards his touch as Bill threw her cardigan haphazardly across the room where it connected with a desk lamp, causing it to crash to the floor.

Together, they fell on to the couch.

As Laura stretched a long leg over his hips and leant down for another kiss, the door to the hatch flew open and a path of light spilled into the room, leading the eyes of Adama's security guards directly to the couch.

"Admiral are you alri…?"

Laura and Bill leapt backwards, taking a seat at either end of the couch in a desperate yet futile attempt to disguise their behaviour.

The three guards stood, red faced and open mouthed. They were unsure of how they should react to their discovery. There was no protocol for finding the Admiral of the Fleet in a compromising position with the ex-President of the Twelve Colonies.

"I'm sorry Admiral." One of the men finally found his voice. "We heard shouting and crashing – at one point we thought you may have been trying to open the door and…" He trailed off, acknowledging that there was no further need for explanation.

Laura put her head in her hands, silently thanking the Gods that she was no longer President. Had she been, this scenario would have been political suicide.

Bill got to his feet, smoothed down his tunic and looked fleetingly at his men - too embarrassed to capture their eyes, had they really been that loud?

"Well…"He cleared his throat in an attempt to sound more professional. " As you can see, both Ms Roslin and I are fine and in no immediate danger…" He motioned to Laura, who still refused to raise her head. "…so we thank you for your concern….but you are dismissed."

"Yes sir…" A look of relief flashed across the faces of the young guards as they scurried out of the room, back to their posts.

Bill sighed and stared at the closed door. He would need to speak to his men in the morning; their discovery wasn't something that could easily be explained away.

He turned on his heal and looked towards Laura, who still sat with her head in her hands. As he neared her, he could see that her shoulders shaking.

"I'm sorry about that Laura… Don't cry it'll be…"

As Bill approached the couch, to comfort her he heard a rather unladylike snort coming from underneath her mass auburn curls.

"What…Are you laughing?" He asked taken aback.

She threw her head back and fell into the couch, taking deep breaths as she tried to stop herself but couldn't.

Her laugh was infectious and Bill soon found himself laughing along.

"Oh My Gods…" She took in a gulp of air. "Did you see their faces? "

Bill nodded as he calmed himself.

"They looked like they'd just walked in on their parents having sex!"

They laughed again, until the laughter became sighs and then once again they were in silence.

Laura remained sat on the couch and Bill moved to perched on the edge of the arm.

"Do you think they'll keep our secret?" Laura asked, craning her neck to look up at him.

"Does it matter if they don't?"

Laura smiled. "I guess not."

"So there you have it…"

"There I have what?"

"There are perks to being plain old Laura Roslin after all."

She pushed him playfully and mocked offense. "Hey, less of the old!"

They shared another smile then Laura abruptly got to her feet.

"Right... I should go."

"Go?" He pulled her towards him and she draped her arms around his neck, standing in-between his knees.

"I still have to pack and I can't relax in here thinking that your guard dogs out there." She waved an arm in the direction of the hatch door. "…know exactly what we are doing in here…"

He rested his forehead in the curve of her neck. "I see you're point…" He let out an irritated groan. "This is already frustrating and we aren't even in a long distance relationship yet."

Laura smiled at the prospect of being in 'a relationship' and lifted his head to plant a chaste kiss on his lips, before pulling back to look into his eyes.

"President Baltar's ground breaking ceremony next week…will you be there?"

"I'm a patriot," He smiled softly. "I wouldn't miss it for the worlds."

And with that, he captured her lips with his and pulled her in for what he knew was that evening's last embrace, but what hoped was the first of many.