Fandom: Battlestar Galactica '04
Character: William Adama/Laura Roslin
Prompt: 041. Shapes
Word Count: 1049
Summary: Getting into shape is a serious business on Galactica. Of course, some are more interested in the results ...
Notes: Set just after ep. 3.06, 'Torn', and contains a very mild spoiler for ep. 3.09, 'Unfinished Business'.
"Thank you, Lieutenant Gaeta." Laura Roslin smiled as she returned the young man's conscientious salute. Stepping off the ramp of her shuttle, she glanced around. "Did the Admiral get caught in CIC again?" Bill tried to meet her arrivals whenever ship's business didn't detain him.
"Actually, Madam President, he's in the gym." Gaeta's at-attention stance remained ramrod straight-- since his near-fatal encounter with The Circle it seemed he'd been trying to out-officer every officer on the ship --but one corner of his mouth did curl upward. "He asked me to tell you that he hasn't forgotten your meeting. He just felt the need for a longer workout today."
"Oh really?" And what brought that on, I wonder?
"Yes, ma'am. I can escort you to his quarters to wait, if you like."
She stifled a chuckle. Military protocol. She was long past needing a guide to Bill's quarters; Gaeta's "escort" was simply one of the dignities accorded to her office. Like the Admiral meeting her personally even though he had a ship to run.
"Lead on, Mr. Gaeta ... but to the gym, please." Laura smiled serenely at the lieutenant's inquiring look. "My own exercise regimen has been lacking lately, to say the least. I may as well take a look at Galactica's facilities while I'm here." And if I can tease Bill just a bit in the process by catching him in a disheveled state, even better. Given how harrowing recent events had been, she was quite ready to take her amusement where she could find it.
Of course the vast ship had more than one gymnasium, but Gaeta led her to what she assumed was Bill's preferred location, the gym closest to the CIC. She could hear grunts of exertion and clanking equipment through the open hatch. She could also catch the ... stench was too strong a word, the aroma of heavy exertion.
She stepped through the hatch, scanning the room as she did so. In addition to the aroma, the gym exuded a businesslike atmosphere; fitness was a serious matter here. Roughly a dozen other people were using the weight machines, free weights, treadmills and other equipment. Focused on their routines, the crew members paid no attention to Laura as she moved deeper into the room.
"There he is, ma'am." She started at the quiet murmur, and turned to find that Gaeta had stepped in behind her. "He's at the back, using one of the heavy bags."
"Thank you, Lieutenant." Laura continued on, moving toward the sound of impacting fists, smiling with a nostalgia born of all the boxing matches she'd attended with her father as a young girl. As the sound got louder, she rounded one free-standing weight machine -- and stopped.
William Adama was also focused, staring at the heavy bag before him with the same burning intensity she'd seen him give the DRADIS displays during crises. He took no notice of her as one arm snapped out smoothly, driving a hard left into the heavy bag. The bag swung back slightly, then forward, only to be met with a counter punch from Bill's right glove. Over and over, he dealt jabs, hooks and roundhouses, shifting and weaving in what she recognized as very good form indeed.
On more than one level. Laura found her eyes drifting over Bill's broad, tank-encased back, down to his butt-- she lingered there for a while --down his legs and then back up, to finally lock onto the shoulders and upper arms powering those repeated punches.
Her mouth was dry. She dimly realized that her breathing and heart rate had sped up.
Pull it together, Laura, some still-sensible corner of her mind ordered. This is hardly the first time you've seen Bill shirtless. You've seen his entire torso naked, for frak's sake!
Very true. But, the more entranced portions of her brain pointed out, he'd been in a coma in sickbay at the time, fighting for his life. The chest that now had his tanks sticking to it had then been wearing bandages and scars, and the powerful delts and biceps had been motionless. Not ... flexing, like they were now.
And certainly not sweaty.
Up until this moment, Laura had always regarded perspiration as something mildly distasteful on either gender, necessary during a workout of course, but to be showered off at the earliest possible opportunity. Now she saw Bill's sweat molding his clothes to his body, watched it sheening his skin, turning the warm golden-brown to gleaming bronze, throwing the lines of his muscular arms into sharp relief.
She licked her lips.
And of course, Entranced-Brain pointed out as she took in the sight of droplets beading at various fascinating points, he was going to need to shower all that off ... a vivid mental picture formed of clean water sluicing over that heated skin, chasing soap bubbles as it coursed its way down to--
--she needed to get out of here.
Sensible-Brain endorsed the idea. There were other people in the room, any or all of whom might at some point break concentration enough to notice the Colonial President ogling their Admiral. And if they already had ... oh yes. Definitely time to leave. She gathered resolve, turned ... and nearly ran into Lieutenant Gaeta.
Ohhh, Lords of Kobol. For long seconds she stared into the young man's carefully bland face, her mind racing. I never dismissed him. He's been standing there this whole time, watching me watching-- Heat surged into her face.
Her politician's training came to her rescue, straightening her spine and turning her expression as smoothly bland as his. It also kept her voice level, preventing embarrassing squeaks as she said, " I think I--" don't say I've seen enough "--I'll wait in the Admiral's quarters after all, Lieutenant. Let him finish without interruption." Would running my tongue across the back of his neck qualify as an interruption? Yes, I think it would.
"Certainly, Madam President." Was that a smirk that Gaeta hastily stifled? Dear sweet Gods, he's read me like a book. Posture perfectly upright, she swept out of the room, a picture of Presidential dignity except for the fire she could still feel burning in her cheeks.
She only hoped she could put it out before Bill arrived.
** ... and for Bill's Bodacious Bulging Biceps.
...... and Laura's Blazing Blush. ;)