Disclaimer: BSG (no matter how hard I tried) is not mine. This story was once written for an alphabet contest and, obviously, I got the letter "P". Setting: post Crossroads. Pairing: A/R! :o) Warning: Smut alert. *grin*

Politics, Prophecies and Personal Pleasures

Politics

Why did I get into this profession again? Laura growled.

Richard. Yes – persuasive as he used to be. Up to some point at least. He somehow lost his magical influence on her when his ideas were corrupted by the position he inherited from his incapable predecessor.

Asking her to resign – really!

Laura's frown increased. Would have spared you the responsibilities of now at least, a little voice in the back of her head dared to remark. Rolling her eyes at her own annoyance, she redirected her focus to the pile of fleet reports on her desk.

"Madame President?" Tory Foster approached her on silent toes. "The Admiral is on the line for you. He said it was urgent."

"Oh, thank you Tory." Laura removed the glasses from her nose and made herself comfortable before she picked up the phone.

"Admiral?"

"Madam President. We have a situation. Your Cylon prisoner – she has fallen ill. Doctor Cottle cannot find a reason for her illness but it looks grim."

Laura rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Do you suspect poisoning? Attempted murder?"

"I don't know what to think to be honest." His voice was gruff.

"No theories from your side?" Laura raised her eyebrows, hearing the hesitation in his voice.

"I think that someone might have smuggled something into her cell. She didn't seem to be all too devastated about the news of her poor health."

"Where is she now? I want to talk to her." She prepared to leave.

"Sickbay. I'll meet you there in 20 minutes."

19 minutes later, Laura Roslin entered sickbay. Holding a book in her hands, she quickly turned around to excuse her aide and approach Doctor Cottle.

"What's the situation, doctor?" Her voice was smooth and calm.

"Her blood tests just came back. I'm not pleased." Cottle met her calmness with a smoke-filled sigh. "I wish I knew how to treat her condition, but I don't even know what's happening to her. All I know is that her blood is totally frakked up by now. If she lives for another 5 hours it'll be long."

Laura looked at him in shock. "Five hours?"

"There's nothing we can do. Unless you want to whistle for a Cylon resurrection ship to ask for a cure. Might make me check you for a fever though."

Giving him a sly smile, one that only played around her lips, she nodded to him and took the last steps towards her Cylon prisoner.

Lying on one of Galactica's med beds, Caprica Six looked frail. Her skin was pale under the pitiless lights, exposing her wrecked health to visitors and personnel alike. She was dying. Holding out her hand to Laura, she bore her eyes into hers and drew her closer.

"I know you saw it, too. You must protect the child. She must live or we will all be doomed."

Prophecies

Surrounded by light, Laura found herself in the opera house again. The sound of Hera's laughter rang in her sensitive ears.

"Hera?" Her voice never louder than a whisper. "Hera?"

On the other side – movement. Footsteps – incoherent, running. And a high-pitched giggle of a child. "Hera!"

Laura started to run, her feet heavy as stones, her movement slowed down as if she was entranced.

Caprica Six, encircled by the Final Five, turned around to face her – in slow motion, her face worried and white. A smile, sad and forced. The sound of violins in the distance, creeping closer.

Sharon Agathon, reaching for her daughter, unable to move. Shooting Laura a panicked look, she opened her mouth to beg her offspring to run towards her. The sound of her voice never left her motionless body.

Laura, feeling a wave of cold overcoming her from behind, opened her arms to protect Hera from the wind – icy cold by now, making her shudder. Caressing the child's head, she held her closer when she turned around to fight the wind. Violins, loud and clear, hurting her ears. Lights blinding her, the wind freezing her face. Baltar.

Laura jumped – the feeling of Caprica's hand on hers steadied her breathing as she realized she was back on Galactica. Removing her hand from the Cylon's reassuring grip, pulling it back quickly – she regained her composure within seconds.

She was used to doing so by now.

Prophecies. Visions. How come she had grown accustomed to them?

Sometimes she wondered if there had ever been a time without them – but deep down she knew that there had been, and it was a time better than this one.

"Protect her." The Cylon woman whispered before she closed her eyes to doze off. "Please."

Trying to understand the pictures of her vision, Laura was lost in thought when Bill Adama put his hand on the small on her back.

"That was fast." His voice startled her out of her musings.

"What? Oh my Gods, Bill." She jumped.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He took a step back away from her.

"I, no, you didn't. I was just, erm, lost in thought. That's all." She cleared her throat.

"Did you talk to her?"

Laura nodded.

"Any realization?" He looked at her, concerned.

"None really. Apart from... Oh, nevermind." She was all President Roslin again.

Glaring at her for a second, he decided to let it go. Suppressing the urge to question her about her findings, he chose to wait until she would tell him – eventually. He knew that she would if it was pivotal information she had gathered.

Taking a deep breath, he smiled at her and offered her his arm. "I suggest we continue this conversation in my quarters. Gaius Baltar is scheduled to arrive any minute now and I expect you don't feel like attending one of his sermons."

"Not necessarily." Laura rolled her eyes. "That man's got nerve."

"Coming here while you are aboard on short notice. I know." The Admiral mocked her.

"You dislike that man just as much as I do. Well, maybe not as much after all." She raised her eyebrows.

"We are going to discuss this after all, aren't we?" His smile was wry. "The acquittal."

"Oh why not. This day couldn't possibly get any worse anyway." She added some playful annoyance to her voice and accepted his arm. "I hope you have some Ambrosia left to ease the pain."

It was later that day when Laura boarded her raptor back to Colonial One. She was worn out – the long day had reminded her of her illness.

Possibilities

Her mind, busy solving fleet issues all day long, drifted off to her companion of the past two hours. Bill. Bill Adama. Her Admiral. No, the Admiral. She could not exclusively lay claim to him.

Laura sighed.

She would have to lie to herself if she said that this was the first time that her mind wandered off to him after a long day. Sometimes it even wandered off to him in boring meetings or when she was busy checking union demands.

It was disconcerting at times – especially since she had allowed herself to daydream about him on New Caprica. A routine she had not been able to say good-bye to ever since.

She blushed.

Hadn't he been the one to suggest that there could be more between them than just this – whatever this was. She wasn't sure anymore – nor was she sure who had pulled back at which point.

He had kissed her alright – but she had been a dying woman back then and she had never been fully sure what that kiss had been about. A farewell? A thank you for his promotion?

It had driven her mad for some time – not that she would ever openly admit it. And usually her mind was preoccupied enough to focus on important tasks at hand. But something had changed since her renewed diagnosis of cancer. It was a fundamental change – her heart ruling over her mind for a change. It was irritating her at times.

Laura shook her head.

No, she wouldn't sit in that raptor and fantasize about the military leader of the fleet. She should be concerned about her prophecies, about the future of the human race rather than her own personal one. She frowned. How frakking selfish can you be?

Trying to return to the pictures she had shared with the Cylon who called herself Caprica Six only hours ago, she found her mind wandering back to her time in Bill's quarters.

He did indeed have some Ambrosia and had gladly shared it with her after she had started to explain some of her visions to him. She trusted him by now – not fully, but enough to lean on him in times of privacy.

He had listened to her with interest and concern – and she knew that he tried to believe what she said, but the rest of his atheist doubt was making it impossible for him to follow her Pythian path. She had accepted that.

While she knew that he tried to understand her epiphanies and her conclusions, she had decided to listen to his reasoning about his choice to vote for Baltar's acquittal. It was hard for her to know that he understood her feelings but had chosen to follow his own perception of justice.

Don't you love me enough? Her mind was racing. Fighting against the mere possibilty of that, she shook her head and scolded herself. Stop it! He doesn't owe you a thing.

Pictures of nights on New Caprica crept into her mind – sandbags, weed and closeness. Hadn't they sung even? She smiled. Didn't that count at all? Stop it now, Laura. You don't have time for this!

Personal Pleasures

Another couple of hours later, Laura finally convinced herself to go to bed. Her mind was racing still, caught between analyzing visions, Baltar's audacious speeches in her ears and Bill's smile on her mind.

That smile. The way she felt he only smiled to her – a smile that melted her heart. If accompanied by his voice, low and hoarse, and that intense look in his cobalt blue eyes, she was putty in his hands.

Of course she would never admit to that. She was a feminist – raised on the thought of independence and choice. The mere thought of what he made her think about...

Laura blushed for the second time that day. Gods, get a grip, woman. You are a grown-up!

She sighed.

Closing her eyes, enjoying the darkness that surrounded her and the silence, she invited him back into her thoughts. Bill. His hand softly pressed against her back, turning towards her to kiss her. Gently at first, then more demanding as soon as Laura allowed herself the freedom of fantasy.

He pushed her into his quarters, gently still, but leaving no room for doubt. He wanted her. Closing the hatch behind them, he pressed her against the bulkhead and removed her jacket– his mouth traveling over the back of her neck and her shoulders, inflamed her own heart. Unbuttoning her blouse, she quickly removed it for him to get better access to her blushed skin.

She moaned.

Feeling how he opened her bra to push it out of the way, she indulged in the feeling of metal and flesh against her skin. One of his hands cupped her breasts, squeezing them and finding her hardened nipples, the other ripped down her panties in a careful but needy movement. Her skirt, dangling around her waist already somehow matched the puddle her panties formed around her feet, melting with his trousers around his.

Enjoying his passionate kisses on her sensitive skin, she felt a jolt running through her body as he probed her readiness – and another one when he merged his body with hers.

They remained motionless for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being one more than their bodies adjusting to another other. When he began to move, it took her a second to find his rhythm and a comfortable position against the bulkhead. The first wave of a minor climax distracted her enough to find the perfect touch. And it was only moments later that she came hard against him just as he found his release, shuddering his love against her.

Laura moaned.

Her eyes still closed, she flipped her finger over her swollen center once more. I wish I had taken my frakking vibrator, she sighed to herself as she tried to keep her voice down.

Cooling down from another night of pleasuring herself, she pulled her nightgown back over her thighs and hid her breasts underneath the silky material again.

Tomorrow I might just call him and go down on myself at the sound of his voice. She giggled. I bet he won't even mind.

Convincing herself that this was less of a fantasy than it was a plan, she dozed off to a blissful dream of Bill and showers and better tomorrows.

Promises

It was early when the phone rang to rip her out of another pleasurable dream.

Blinking her eyes to adjust to the darkness, Laura reached for the receiver and smiled at the sound of his voice.

Bill.

"Good morning."His voice was deep and rich.

"Good morning," she answered no less cheerful.

"I felt like giving you a call this morning." He sounded almost shy.

"Isn't that a routine by now? I'm calling you, you're calling me?" Laura didn't even bother to hide the playfulness in her voice.

He chuckled. "I suppose so."

"So, what's up?" She asked carefully, feeling an immediate reaction to his answer between her legs.

"I just wanted to hear your voice."

Laura gasped. How was it possible that this man was able to arouse her by doing so little?

"What are you wearing right now?" Her lips were faster than her mind.

"My tank top and boxers." Bill's voice turned hoarse and raw.

Processing the speed with which they were pressing forward into a new state of their relationship, Laura's brain was overruled by the throbbing of her clit.

"I'm wearing white silk." Her voice matched his volume. "A nightgown, and nothing else."

A gasp.

"I can easily slide my fingers underneath it to caress my breasts." Her breathing quickened. "Do you want me to caress my breasts?"

A moan and an eager yes.

"What else do you want me to do?" She managed to whisper in-between sharp intakes of breath.

"Take it off." Bill dared to voice.

"Done." Laura said after a short second of sliding her nightgown off her sensitive body.

"Feel your curves. Allow your hand to tickle yourself." He was too good at this. "Touch yourself."

She moaned – the feeling of her own hands on her naked flesh, the sound of his breathing in her ear, labored and heavy.

"Are you wet?" He hardly believed that he had actually asked her that.

A faint yes.

"Come for me, Laura." The words came right from his soul.

"Are you touching yourself?" Laura managed to mouth into the speaker, hardly above a whisper.

Another yes.

"Are you thinking of me pleasuring myself?" She gasped at the feeling of a building orgasm and cried out to his groaned and final yes.

The sound of her name fell from his lips when he came hard, and they enjoyed the sound of their breathing steadying simultaneously.

"That was... nice." Laura said after a short while.

"Indeed it was." He answered carefully. "Maybe we could repeat that some time."

"Oh, I'd like that." Her giggles were reassurance enough. "I could also bring my nightgown to Galactica next time I see Cottle." She paused. "If you'll have me."

There was silence at the other end of the line – and although she knew that it was impossible, she could swear that she heard his heartbeat in his throat.

"Bill?" She was beginning to get nervous.

"I love you, Laura." His voice was soft and smooth, dark still and rich, but vulnerable.

Startling her into a moment of silence, his words affected her heart in a way she had never expected to feel again. He loves you. The little voice in her head chanted.

"I love you, too." Her lips whispered the words into the receiver – making them sound like a confession rather than an answer.

Hearing a knock at her door, Laura was ripped out of that feeling of eternal bliss and thrown back into reality.

"I, erm, gotta go now." The regret in her voice was evident.

And so was the hope in his. "See you in the evening?"

"Promise." She smiled and slowly hung up.

Paranoia

"So what do we do now?"

His question was as simple as it was complicated.

"I don't know." Laura chose honesty as the way to go. "What do you want?"

"I thought that was clear after this morning." He smiled.

"I don't mean sex, Bill. What beyond that? Where is this going?"

"What is this?" Bill's question matched her bluntness.

"I don't know. What do you call holding hands in sickbay, morning calls?" She paused. "Morning sex – on the phone?"

"Declarations of love." He added calmly.

Laura chuckled. "How dramatic."

They looked at each other for a beat, shifting on his couch.

"Are we stumbling into something? Into an us maybe?" He chose his words with care.

"Stumbling into sounds as if we were on the verge of having an affair." She shook her head.

"An affair? Who's married?" He began to play with his wedding ring.

"Yes, Bill. Who's married?" She repeated his question while staring at his ring. "Trust me when I say that I know what it means to be second-in-line, and I won't go there again."

"You are not second to anything to me, Laura." He took her hands in his. "Or to anyone."

"What's that ring standing for? Eternal love?" She looked deep into his eyes. "I was never good at being less adored. I would rather be alone than play the second fiddle."

Bill moved closer to her and moved one of his hands to her face. Cupping her face into his hand, he caressed her cheek with his thumb.

"I never doubted that. And you should never take a back seat to anything."

He leaned in to place a soft kiss onto her lips. "Do you remember the first time I kissed you?"

"How could I forget?" She whispered.

"You have that way of sweeping me off my feet, Laura Roslin. You were so sick and so frail and yet so strong. And you were so beautiful. I just had to kiss you. You made me want you so badly."

Pulling her into another kiss, Bill moved her closer to his body to embrace her.

"I don't easily say I love you and I usually don't run around kissing Presidents on the lips. I love you, Laura and that's that."

Smiling against his skin, she placed soft kisses against his neck "What about the press? The gossip?"

"Stop being so paranoid about the press. We are both not married, we are two consenting adults. And since when do you give a frak about gossip?"

"What about our responsibilities?" Laura nuzzled him.

"That sentence will haunt me, won't it?" He chuckled.

"Yes, it will. And I am telling you, if you will ever bring up that word again, I'll airlock you. And speaking of airlocks, what is it with that frakking ring?"

Bill sighed and rolled his wedding ring between two fingers. "I think I won't need it anymore."

Predicaments

Throwing the ring on his couch table, he smiled at the satisfaction on her face and placed a passionate kiss onto her lips.

"So did you keep the second part of your promise?" He whispered in her ear.

"What's that?" She giggled when he pulled her up and led her to his rack.

"Your nightgown. Did you bring it?" His eyes were full of hope.

"Oh that tiny little thing." Laura smirked. "Yes indeed. It's underneath this presidential suit."

Answering her statement with lusty eyes, he moved his fingers to the back of her skirt to unbutton it. Laura removed her jacket, and began to unbutton her blouse when they were interrupted by the sound of Bill's comm line.

"Adama," Bill barked at the intruder in a gruff voice. "What? When?"

Precipice

Bill was staring at Gaius Baltar in one of Galactica's prison cells. A sight he had always secretly enjoyed but would never admit to.

"You were trying to abduct Hera Agathon. Are you out of your mind? I mean, more than usual?" His voice was dangerously low.

"She is not safe here. She must be protected." Baltar said in a slightly hysterical voice at the sight of President Roslin. "That woman is trying to kill her."

Shaking her head, Laura tried not to be upset by his lies, nor to allow his words to affect her.

"She tried to kill her before. She will try it again."

"No one ever tried to kill that child." Adama's voice remained calm. "At least not after she was born." He added, side-glancing at the President.

"We are at a moral precipice because of that child. She's a hybrid. Most of your followers would not mind killing her." Baltar's voice was at the verge of the dramatic.

"Followers?" Laura's voice was thick with mockery and annoyance.

"You are hiding your real motives about that child. You just want her to cure you again." Gaius Baltar tried to attack her.

Waving him off, Laura leaned in to Bill before she left the room. "I won't listen to his insanity and fanatic lies. Send me a report to Colonial One, Admiral, if you can stomach his stories."

It was an hour later that Laura was sitting at her desk, files in front of her, her mind roaming around her prophecies and Baltar's attempt to kidnap Hera.

She closed her eyes when another vision overcame her and she was back in Kobol's opera house.

Hera, holding her hand, looked at Laura with big brown eyes. Leading her towards the light, the child was reassuring her to face the Final Five. Five priests, Laura started to think again. That couldn't be a coincidence.

Light. Blinding her eyes – hurting her almost. Her instincts told her to pull Hera up in her arms to shield her from the vision. So she did. Sharon Agathon was unable to move again, voice-less and scared.

His voice.

Laura blinked her eyes. It was his voice that ripped her out of her vision, tender and concerned.

Bill.

Prime

"Are you alright?" He moved around the desk and held out his hand to help her when she got up from her chair.

"I'm fine, thanks. Just another prophecy." Laura sighed. "Any confessions from Baltar's side?"

"That man won't confess to anything. Even now that we've caught him in the act." Bill frowned.

"But let's not talk about Baltar now." He smiled at her."Are you free now? Free for dinner?"

Laura nodded. "I am. What did you have in mind?"

Bill took her hand in his to lead her out of her office and up the stairs to her private quarters. "I think you were about to show me your nightgown earlier on."

"Didn't you say dinner?" She chuckled.

"Dessert is my favorite part of dinner, you know." His voice was seductively low.

"What a coincidence. Mine, too."

Closing the curtain to her provisional quarters, Laura turned around to unbutton her blouse for him again – slowly and with a playful smile on her lips. Reaching out for the back of her skirt once more, Bill kissed her passionately.

"Yes, I think that's where we stopped."

Stepping out of her skirt and removing her blouse, Laura exposed herself to him in a short white nightgown that played around her curves as if it had been made especially for her.

Bill gasped – she was even more beautiful than he had dared to believe. Her nipples, hard and rosy, pressed against the silky material of the sweet nothingness that hid the bare skin of her mildly toned body.

Sitting down on her makeshift bed, he took in the full sight of her, making her blush.

"You are exquisite."

Moving towards him, Laura moved one strap of her nightgown over her shoulders. The other one followed only moments later, causing the silky gown to flow down her body, caressing her with an airy tenderness.

Moving her hands to the jacket of his uniform, she unbuttoned it and made him take it off. Bill, eager to feel her skin against his, quickly removed his shirt as well while he felt her hands moving to his belt. Pushing down his pants, she left no doubt about her expertise in, and joy for sexual pleasures.

"Careful." Bill moaned when she brushed her hand against his erection, ever so intentionally.

"Oh, I intend to be." She whispered in a hoarse voice before she knelt down to take him in her mouth. Bill, surprised by her willingness to please him like that, saw a fantasy coming true when he admired the redness of her auburn hair glowing in the dim light of her quarters.

Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the softness of her tongue and lips around him. Remembering that morning, however, he knew that he wanted to be with her the first time. "Laura." He moaned.

Looking up at him she understood what he wanted and left him bare for a second before she pushed him back on the sheets and climbed on top of him. The feeling of lowering herself onto him was what sent a first wave of pleasure through her body. The sound of her name and the slowness of the rhythm they found together pushed her over the edge.

Bill, flipping them over within the blink of an eye, pulled her into a lingering kiss before he thrust into her to find his own release. Collapsing on top of her, he groaned her name as he came himself – and he moved her over with him again to remain entangled with her through the night.

"That was..." Bill mouthed after a while, kissing her temple.

"Indeed it was." Laura caressed his chest.

"Seems Cottle was right."

"Excuse me?" Laura chuckled.

"Said something about us getting old but women being in their prime after 40." He pulled her into a lazy kiss. "Should tell him he was right." When he felt the soft punch of her fist against his stomach he added in-between lingering kisses. "Eventually." And his mind had forgotten about Cottle again in no time.

Fin