Author: SVRaven PM
The tree that does not bend will break. R&A. Minor spoilage through 3x12 Take A BreakRated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Romance - L. Roslin & W. Adama - Chapters: 7 - Words: 8,992 - Reviews: 16 - Favs: 7 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 02-11-07 - Published: 02-03-07 - Status: Complete - id: 3375796
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Adama woke at 0459 out of habit, just a minute before his alarm. He sat up on his elbow and reached across his bunk to turn it off. The last thing they needed was the harsh noise of a machine breaking the quiet state of the morning. He looked down at Roslin while she slept peacefully beside him.
He couldn't help but smile at how different she seemed when she was asleep, especially in contrast to how everything had been last night. Asleep, Laura was softer and unburdened by her role as President Roslin. Last night the burdens couldn't have been heavier, but for the moment he concentrated on the present before it was tainted.
Adama let himself settle back down onto his side and his free arm returned to its former place, draped over her Roslin's waist. He took in the calming scent of her hair that reminded him vaguely of lavender and basked in the warmth of having someone close to him again. It was so nice to feel warm. He leaned forward and placed the faintest kiss on Roslin's neck just behind her left ear.
He heard the steady pace of her breathing momentarily pause and felt her body tense. She was waking up.
Roslin had been lying in the sun, soaking in the heat, when she felt something brush against her neck that sent a tingle through her nerves and pulled her out of her dream. She woke to the feeling of Adama's chest against her back and his arm across her waist, warm and secure. It was so nice to feel warm. She wished she could stay in just this place at just this time for a moment longer before the complications of the universe intruded on her reverie.
"Good morning, Laura," said Adama in his characteristic rumble. His voice was another gentle comfort that kept the flood of troubles from the night before at bay. Roslin stretched and looked over her shoulder at him.
"Good morning, Bill," she said with a smile to cover up a flash of regret. Regret, with a certain degree of embarrassment, first at how she had fallen apart and then at how she had needed someone to pick her back up again.
"Feeling better?" he asked. His expression of concern transformed Roslin's smile to one of genuine pleasure.
"I'll manage." She held his gaze in the dim light and tried to make the time go slower, but there was no stopping the steady return to reality.
"Are you going to let me out of my rack?" He had slept with his back to the wall and allowed her the outside. She assumed it was so that if she had wanted to leave without waking him she could have done so.
"I don't suppose that I have much of a choice, do I?" Roslin kept him trapped just a few seconds longer and resisted the urge to giggle as she suddenly realized how their current situation might look to someone not privy to the fact that the night before had been anything but romantic.
Here was the President of the Twelve Colonies and the Admiral of the Fleet curled up together in his bed with all the look of being contented. She rather doubted anyone would have been surprised had anything of that sort happened and she wished it could be that simple. It might have been marginally less awkward waking up to just another complication as opposed to the aftermath of an emotional break down.
Roslin finally surrendered to the fact that she was going to have to drag herself from his soothing embrace and the warmth of the covers back into the world.
Adama watched Roslin get up with a certain measure of reluctance, but the troubles of the Fleet waited for no one and especially not for them. Once she was free of the confines of his rack, she took off his jacket, the jacket that he had draped over her shoulders the night before when her sobbing had turned into shivering and he had done everything in his power that was appropriate to comfort her.
Now that was a thought…everything appropriate. He could think of a few not so appropriate things that he could have done. Part of him rather wished he had, but he was too much a gentleman.
Adama took his jacket and buttoned it while Roslin searched for her glasses. She found them on the table in front the leather couch.
"There shouldn't be too many people up and about at this hour," he said. "Now might be the best time to escort you back to Colonial One."
"I agree," she said. She paused to clean a lens and put her glasses on. Adama moved to open the hatch and offered her his arm.
Roslin hesitated when Adama offered his arm. She liked to think that she no longer needed his support, but she accepted it because, for the moment, it was the only comfort available to her. He guided her out of his quarters and they proceeded down the near empty corridors in silence. She had already begun to miss the feeling of his arms around her and his solid presence at her back.
She had no idea what would happen now. He had seen her at her most vulnerable and yet this morning when she looked at him there was no sense that she had been somehow diminished in his eyes. In fact she could have sworn she caught a flicker of something else entirely in his gaze, but now was most definitely the time to think about such things. Instead her mind decided to affix itself on her emotional collapse.