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07 June 2006 @ 10:31 pm
Behind Closed Doors: SHUT THE DOOR *UPDATE*  

Title: Shut The Door NEW CHAPTER

By: ellymelly
Rating: T (at least! - and getting worse lol *hangs head* I tried to stay out of the gutter, I really really did!*
: Romance and Humour
Disclaimer: I do not own any of this - except that I would like to re-enforce the fact that I own Adama's boxers. Those are mine.
Summary: The War was started by Laura. It evolved. Bill rebelled. There are many plans. And only one will be victorious. (Bill knows it's going to be him - Laura knows he's wrong).

Special Thanks go to beachnutz from Prettypinkdork's 'caption this' http://community.livejournal.com/adama_roslin/263215.html#cutid1 where this quote comes from:

Roslin: I'm the president and you're making me wait? *waves*
Adama: She's waving to me? Honestly. Who waves anymore?
Roslin: Wow. Don't look at me like I'm an idiot, you frakking toaster or you're ass is so out the airlock.
Adama: She's still waving. Gods, how embarrassing. I [ am ] coming already. *raises papers*

~ In a corridor aboard Galactica ~

The Captain made his way down the corridor after a report that his dad was moping on the Bridge. So here he was, one foot in front of the next - head bitching about the bottle or so of Ambrosia that Thrace had forced upon him. It had all started out innocent enough, yesterday evening he told Dualla that he needed to wipe Starbuck out to win a bet - it had never been his intention to wipe the floor with his own ass. And boy oh boy did he pay for it now. Come to think of it, he never found out who had proposed the bet in the first place - not that it really mattered, all he knew was that some time today, someone would waltz up and place a box of cigars in his hand and he would be free to enjoy his legs -except, that didn't sound right.

Apollo paused, trying to imagine his prize of cigars but all he saw were legs.

And legs.

...and more legs.

Sense nearly knocked him flying, Lee ripping his eyes up at once.

Oh my frakking gods, I did NOT just stare at the President's legs.

Laura came casually strolling up the corridors of Galactica, "Morning Captain." She smiled sweetly in a devious sort of way.

Don't look at her legs, don't look at her legs. Apollo shook his head dumbly trying to reason his eyes in an upward manner.

"Problem Captain?"

Frak. "Ah - no." he shook his head harder, eyes now at a respectable height, "Of course not Madame President."

"Didn't think so - ah finally!" she turned her attention behind her, leaving the younger Adama to ponder the early hour and unexplained appearance of the President's legs.

Of the President. Lee corrected himself firmly.

"Billy, what kept you?"

"Sorry ma'am, I was just," he lowered his voice slightly, "making sure the cheese was secure." This time it was Billy's turn to look a touch evil.

"Thank you Billy."

"Not a problem Madame President." The two cohorts seemed satisfied.

"Have a nice day Captain." said Laura as she continued off down the hallway toward her departing ship leaving Lee in a confused early morning stupor. Billy extended a small box into Apollo's field of vision, Apollo taking it without properly registering its meaning.

"Congratulations Mr. Adama." and then Billy was off, following his president.

Lee was left in a slight state of shock. Instead of realising that he'd been played, or even how much trouble he would be in if his dad ever got a copy of his mind's thoughts over the past few minutes - his mind decided to focus solely on the one thing that struck him as overwhelmingly odd about the whole encounter...


Yes, it was red cheese that threatened to cause the downfall of a certain Admiral - and gods help his atheist butt if Roslin ever decided to share what was written on the packaging.

~ The Bridge: Battlestar Galactica ~

It seemed that everybody on the Bridge was giving the Admiral ten feet of play room, only Gaeta brave enough to venture in every now and then and pass on the morning log that seemed to be amended every five seconds.

Bill was moping. Unfortunately for those around him, 'moping' for an Admiral included periodically ripping people apart for almost no reason. 'Almost' because even the best of people tend to get a little frustrated when they find out that their personal security detail allowed a tall red-head to visit his quarters un-attended to supposedly retrieve a non-existent Quorum document. And to make matters infinitely worse, his boxers were annoying him. He had been forced to wear the uncomfortable ones after discovering that the President of the Twelve Colonies had taken his favourite pair hostage. Bill hoped that there was some code of ethics left in place that prevented her from air-locking them (or him) for her mild entertainment.

If he'd known the world was going to end he'd have packed more underpants.

The Admiral shook his head. This was not productive thought - he had to pull himself together, he had a meeting with her and some religious delegates in a couple of hours and this was no way to start a diplomatic day.

"Dad, what's this I hear about an emergency?"

Adama turned, a little confused at first by his son's arrival on the Bridge. "Emergency? What emergency?"

"It's only that I was on my way here and I ran into the president - there must be something wrong for her to be here at this hour."

Gods that woman gets around! Think of a good explanation that doesn't involve underpants. "No emergency. Maybe she just needed to do some washing."

"I'm sorry?"

"Nevermind. Why are you asking me anyway?"

Lee swallowed, "Ah, I just thought that maybe - well, I thought perhaps..."

"Yeah," said Adama firmly, "well think something else for a while."

"Yes sir." Apollo struggled to define how weird this day was getting. The President and his dad? No. He was imagining things. "I think I might go eat some cheese."

Bill shot a concerned look at his offspring.

Lee turned to leave when he noticed Laura Roslin high above them. "Hey look, she's back again," how bizarre, "and I think she's trying to get your attention."

"Well she can wait."

Lee nodded, this was just all too much for a man with a hangover - and left them to it. Whatever it was.

The Admiral set about ignoring her, but it wasn't long before he felt her conspiring eyes upon him. They prodded him, annoyed him in every way possible until slowly he turned, raising his eyebrow in concern at the sight of the President far above his head - waving at him through the glass of the control sector.


Laura had that, I'm the President and you're making me wait? kind of a look about her - so she continued waving in the hope of annoying him enough to get his attention – it seemed to be working nicely.

She's waving at me? thought Bill irritably, hoping nobody else saw, honestly, who waves anymore? Bill smiled stupidly up at her - hoping she'd stop.

Don't look at me like I'm some kind of an idiot, you frakking toaster, or your rodent ass is SO out the airlock. Yes, if you think I'm going to stop waving you're sadly mistaken - so get your gorgeous ass up here - I mean, DEAD ass... Laura kept waving much to Adama's dismay.

She's still waving. Gods, how embarrassing. He sighed one of his own long suffering sighs, a little more than slightly worried about what she was up to this time. Laura Roslin already had his underwear, what other satisfaction could she possibly want today? Alright! I'm coming already. Bill raised the morning log in his hand in an affirmative gesture to which, most thankfully, she stopped waving. A content smile lingering as she turned away from the glass.

Frakking Cylon thought Bill.

Frakking Caprican Inbred thought Laura.

Frak it's going to be a long day thought Saul as he watched the scene play out before him.

~ The room above the bridge ~

"Madame President," greeted Bill on the verge of sarcasm, "to what do I owe the please of our second meeting today?"

Laura smiled innocently, she had the man exactly where she wanted him, if he still intended to exact revenge on her for the other day, he was sorely mistaken.

"I just came to deliver the agenda for the meeting today," she withdrew a folder from under her arm and offered it to him.

The Admiral eyed the folder suspiciously, since when did she give out agenda's personally? Wasn't that Billy's job - for that matter, where was the little accomplice? Knowing he was going to regret it, Bill took the folder from her, opening it enough to glimpse its contents. Thankfully all appeared normal.

Bill felt himself breathing comfortably again. "Thank you."

"Sure." she smiled and he had to pull himself up for smiling back.

He put it down to a lapse in concentration.

"Look, I have to run - the meeting is starting shortly."

"Okay." said the Admiral as she departed.

"What are you smiling at?" Bill immediately forced a frown onto his face as he heard Tigh's voice.

"I wasn't."

"Un uh."

~ The meeting: one hour later ~

Admiral Adama hurried down the corridor and up to the door, nodding at the security personnel who opened it and stepped aside for him.

"Apologies I'm late Madame President, members of the Quorum." he apologised, striding over to take a seat opposite the President. The table was long and narrow - an odd shape for a meeting table but given the slender pickings after the end of the world, they were lucky to have it. The only problem was that he had to be careful not to accidentally step on her - whenever that happened she made him pay in diplomatic currency.

So Bill carefully seated himself and produced the agenda, settling it in his lap - he hadn't even read it yet, no time.

"That's alright Admiral, we were just having a philosophical discussion." several members of the religious sector practically scowled suggesting that it was more of a war than a discussion. "Shall we get down to it then? Firstly I would like to push 1801 down the list and instead start with 1823."

Everyone muttered agreement and flicked through their folder. The Admiral frowned.

"It's on page five." whispered Laura across the table, flipping her own folder open. He nodded dumbly, shuffling through the pages until he came across something that made his mouth drop.

Pictures - high resolution, of his boxers.

HOLY FRAKKING GODS OF - a nearby Quorum member leant over to see what all the fuss was about - Adama quickly closed his folder and hugged it protectively.

Bill shot a terrified look at Laura - but she wasn't paying him the least bit of attention.