Summary: An alternate version of a scene between the Commander and the President in Resurrection Ship, Part One. SPOILERS! Adama/Roslin.
Disclaimer: I do not own Battlestar Galactica (etc. etc. insert more disclaiming here).
A/N: This is my first Battlestar Galactica fic ever, because I had to write something after I saw the scene in the latest episode between Adama and Roslin. I've missed two or three episodes in the past, so I'm sorry if I get some things wrong. Please review, because I'd like to know what I can do better next time! Also, if you have any title ideas, please tell me. I'm never happy with my titles.
His mind is spinning. She's just told him he has to kill Cain. Now. He wasn't entirely sure she was serious before, but now he knows. And if Laura Roslin, that protector of the people, is telling him to kill someone, he knows he'd better listen.
She's lying there, coughing. Every day she's been looking whiter and whiter, and now she's almost translucent. He can see theblood in her face, dark and blue against her sickly skin, especially under the eyes. He's known it for a while, but the reality that she's going to be gone soon hits him hard. He will miss her. Every time he thinks about her dying he wonders how he'll make it without her.
It used to be that he couldn't stand her. He was certain she had no clue what she was doing and, as commander of the fleet, he had a duty to protect the people from the poor decisions their president was certain to make.
He was wrong. Eventually he came to respect her, at first because he had to, then because he wanted to. He began to think of her as a friend as well as someone to work with. And now…
She reaches for his hand, a gesture that warms his heart. Lately he has been feeling a quiet desperation, building slowly. As he squeezes back it takes a hold of him again. He doesn't know what he'll do when she's gone. He always comes to the same conclusion that he'll be lost without her.
She smiles. He aches for her. He wishes there were something, anything he could do to help her pain. But there's no way to save her, and he wouldn't dream of telling her not to be scared because then she'll know that he's scared and that will make her worry. But there's so little time, and every day she loses a little bit more.
He takes her glasses from her shaking fingers, folds them, and puts them down next to her.
"Thank you, Commander." He just reaches down to brush the hair away from her face. He's feeling fiercely protective all of a sudden. Her eyes glisten with tears. "Bill…" He remembers how little time she has once more. Running calloused fingers down her cheek, he looks into her eyes and catches the single tear that falls. Promising himself that he won't regret it and he won't make excuses later, he bends and presses his lips to hers. They only have contact for a few seconds, but he realizes that she might possibly be kissing him back.
When they part both are silent. It takes a while, but after she's fully comprehended what happened she smiles a quiet smile.
"Thank you, Commander."