disclaimer: not mine
rating: fluff
pairing: if you squint: Roslin/Adama
notes: I blame A.j.
set/spoilers: during the Demetrius arc of season four.

Taking a Break Nap From All Your Worries....
by ALC Punk!

It had been a long day of quorum negotiations and cancer testing. Cottle was preparing to have her stay overnight for the duration of the next round of treatments, and Laura Roslin was exhausted just thinking about it. Even thinking about how much lay ahead of her and how many more fights she'd have to go through in the quorum was difficult.

So it was with a strange sense of foreboding that she walked into the Admiral's quarters to find it littered with construction paper and crayons. There was a spilled case of markers on the table next to his (still-intact) model ship.

The Admiral himself was asleep, head tipped back, snoring. His uniform tunic was half un-done and Nicky Tyrol was passed out on his chest, face buried in Adama's neck. Next to him, Hera Agathon was quietly playing with a yellow marker, drawing stars on herself, Nicky and the Admiral. She was also make soft little comments, possibly about their positions in relative space.

It was possibly the funniest thing Laura had seen in a very long time and she clapped a hand over her mouth to hold in the sudden attack of giggles.

Hera looked up at her and frowned, then put one finger over her mouth and hissed, "Sssh."

Laura nodded through her giggles and backed up to set her briefcase down on the desk.

Making a decisive dot on the Admiral's collar, Hera closed her marker and then proceeded to wriggle down from the couch. She walked over to Roslin and leaned against her legs with a soft sigh.

Now she wasn't laughing. Now, Laura was having trouble not crying a little. She remembered Hera as a tiny baby, snuggling up to anyone and anything, content to just be held. Her heart ached a little at what the little girl had gone through. Leaning down, she carefully picked her up, panting a little at the effort, but well-rewarded when Hera tucked her head under up under Laura's chin.

With two steps, she was able to drop down into the Admiral's desk chair.

Earlier, the sight had been even more chaotic.

The Admiral had a stack of reports under one arm, and both eyebrows raised as he came around the corner to his quarters, intending to do some work. A line of children was cheerfully marching into his rooms, being directed by a competent-looking Lieutenant Dualla and two or three others.

"Dee!" He barked, glaring at her, "What is going on?"

"Sorry, sir, there's been a biological contamination of the day care, and your quarters are more easily defendable," she replied, as the last child went inside. She tried to give him a slight smile, but it fell short.

It occurred to Adama that she looked exhausted, but he didn't ask why, "Biological contamination?"

"Low-level, but we think it may have been an attack against Hera Agathon, sir. The news of her survival isn't widely-known, but the news wires got hold of it a while back."

"Why put all of the children in my quarters?"

"Convenience, sir, Ensigns Ro and Kieran here are their care-takers for the day." Dee nodded to the two, then briskly continued, "I need to get back to CIC, sir. The parents of the children should be by after the change in shift, though two viper jocks will be a little longer."

Dee was gone before he could growl something about getting the children from his room.

"Sir," Kieran was a smiling young man, and he tossed off a salute, then headed into the room, calling out to the kids that he'd brought drawing supplies.

The sound was greeted with cheers.

Ensign Ro was small and dark-haired, her eyes intense when she met Adama's gaze. "There's been more than a few threats, sir," she informed him. "Hopefully, this will throw them off, for now."

The Admiral stood outside his quarters for a moment, then sighed. He could probably get the paperwork done elsewhere, but he'd been looking forward to sitting at his desk. With a shrug and a grumble at the world in general, he stepped inside.

"You should have woken me."

The gravelly voice made Laura open her eyes. She smiled at the Admiral, still slouched on the couch, Nicky dead to the world. "I didn't see the point. I'm not the only one who needs sleep around here."

He started to say one thing, then stopped, frowning thoughtfully, "I think you might be right about that."

"Down," Hera said, interrupting them both. She wriggled in Laura's arms and gave her an enigmatic look when Laura looked at her.

So Laura set her down.

"They're going to be overdue," she said softly, absently brushing down her blouse and skirt.

The Admiral didn't ask who she was referring to. He just shook his head, "I have full confidence in them, Madame President."

Her lips twitched slightly. Even now, with the cancer eating away at her, she could still laugh. A little. "I know your faith in Captain Thrace, Admiral. I would never doubt it." She sighed, "I just hope you're right." And that Starbuck wouldn't lead them into a trap or destroy the fleet more than she already had by taking half the pilots with her.

For a moment, he looked like he was going to say something. Nicky interrupted him with a whimper, as he woke. The Admiral jostled him a little, then glanced at his watch. "One of the day care attendants should be by shortly for both children."

"Until then," Laura said, gaze drawn to Hera, a crayon in her hand, spilling yellow and then red stars across a sheet of paper that looked suspiciously like a report on fuel consumption, "I suppose we'll survive."

She got up and retrieved the report while Hera protested, then settled back down to sort through her own pile of paperwork. While she was doing that, the Admiral managed to get Nicky interested in playing with a piece of model ship. Laura's lips twitched again: that thing was never going to stay in one piece.