Awakening From the Rest

Laura stared at the book in her hands for a long moment. The past few days had been idyllic. Since she’d moved back into Bill’s quarters and his life, she’d found a more domestic side that had been long dormant. She’d never been the type to sit around and make dinner…well, not that she did that now, which was a point he teased her about, her extent of making dinner was that she called the mess instead of him.

Her lips twitched as she remembered waking up that morning…Bill’s lips finding hers as she sleepily rolled over on her back, one hand rising to tangle in his hair. When he’d finally released her mouth, she’d sighed happily, the hand moving from his hair down his chest, pausing to toy with his dogtags before tracing the rest of the way along his tanks. “You’re dressed.”

“Yeah. Coffee’s on the way, Asked ‘em to send something light to eat as well.” He smiled down at her, “Saul should be right behind the coffee for the morning briefing.”

“Hmm.” Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around her legs as she pulled them toward her chest. “What time is it?”

“About ten after six.” As she automatically dropped her chin onto her knees, he reached up and deftly arranged her scarf around her head, tying it behind her. “Better?”

“Since you can’t stay to keep me warm. It will have to do.” Lifting her head, she turned and kissed him just as a knock sounded at the hatch.

“Stay in bed, I’ll come back and tell you before I leave.” With another trace of her cheek, he stood and moved out of the sleeping area as she sank back down on the mattress, pulling the covers up to her chin.

Laura remained in the bed as the now familiar morning sound of a tray being placed on his desk, followed by a brief conversation sounded from the outer room. When she heard the hatch shut, she held up a hand, counting on her fingers, silently guessing she’d only reach five before Saul’s knock would come. Sure enough after touching her fifth finger another knock sounded and she grinned. She’d laid back here and listened to their morning briefing for the last few mornings, their tones a soothing counterpoint to the warm haze she’d experienced in her present location, but this morning…her lips twitched as she caught sight of Bill’s robe where he’d left it, on the foot of the rack since she liked to wear it first thing in the morning.

With a soft giggle, she slid out of the rack and pulled the robe on before picking up the book Bill had been reading to her the night before. Glancing around, she tried to remember where her glasses were then gave up with a shrug. The book was really just a prop after all. Opening the book, she squinted enough to verify she had it the right side up before taking a breath and moving toward the voices in the other room. Her eyes first on the book then on the task of pouring a cup of the hot coffee substitute as she greeted him, Laura finally managed to glance at Saul, her amused façade almost breaking completely into outright laughter at the sight of his face. He’d known how she felt about Bill, but the look on his face made it clear that Bill hadn’t said or even implied anything to him about the past few days or their change in living arrangements.

Settling onto the couch, she curled up, the book in front of her as she watched the two men fall back into their conversation. Saul did have a point, about the emotions of the civilians toward Cylons…as Bill sighed and told him he’d be up in a minute, Laura’s eyes flicked between them, studying their faces until Bill started to look back at her, and she quickly focused her eyes back on the book she held close to her face.

A moment later, following Saul’s gruff, ‘Admiral, Madame President,’ she heard the hatch close and once again raised her head to watch Bill slowly stand and move toward her, gently brushing a kiss on top of her head before sinking into the cushions next to her.

“You left your glasses on the shelf by the head, next to your wig.” Taking the book out of her hand, he set it to the side. “Enjoy yourself?”

“No less than you did.” Sitting up, Laura edged closer to him, her crossed leg sliding under his. “And don’t tell me you didn’t.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, “I did. Knew he’d find out, just thought I’d be the one to finally break down and tell him.” At her shrug, Bill studied his coffee cup, waiting her out.

“The Colonel’s right, you know.” At the sound of her husky Presidential tone, he bit back the inner relief that he felt. While she’d been adjusting to being Laura again, he’d known that somewhere inside, once she felt balanced, and safe enough, the President would re-emerge. There had been glimmers as they’d spoken and grown almost impossibly closer over the past few days, he’d known it had been an internal struggle for her, to listen to him ramble on about what was happening, one part of her wanting to jump back in, but not ready yet. The other part, just ignoring it, as part of her past, her present being in the quarters she was spending hours exploring and learning about as his lover and partner, not just equal. Realizing she was speaking again, he blinked and took a swallow of coffee. “The fleet has never been happy with this blanket Cylon amnesty thing….” So…in addition to listening to him, he’d been right in that she’d been listening to different things on the wireless.

“This coffee is terrible.” Leaning forward to hide his eyes from her, he placed the cup back on the table. She’d always had the uncanny ability to read what was in his eyes, and the last thing he wanted her to see until he was ready, was his hope that she was ready to move on, to take control of the chaotic mess her Quorum and the fleet were turning into. He’d known she would, eventually, he’d just prayed that it would be in time, and that he, Saul, and Lee could keep things manageable until she’d recovered enough equilibrium to become the President again. Although, what they had in his quarters was amazing enough, eventually he knew, she’d need more outside them again.

“Siccing Lee on the Quorum is only going to be seen as a shot across the bow.” She leaned slightly forward, emphasizing her statement with a gesture, her voice retaining the presidential intensity he’d heard glimmers of the last few days, but hadn’t heard in full since before they’d stood on Earth. “He can hedge it all he wants, but the delegates will see it comes straight from you…” even the speed of her statement, rapid fire, and urgent made him smile slightly as he watched her.

“He can handle it.” The statement was out before he could stop it, almost a grunt, but it was enough to jolt her out of the mode she’d been in. He could hear it in her tone, the low urgency replaced by her higher timber and almost sing song pace.

“Yes, he can.” She nodded and uncrossed her legs, “And so can you,” With a smirk she started to stand, her cheeks flushed lightly. “And I’m not getting involved.” Moving away from him, Laura continued, her voice taking on a touch of panic. “Lee can take care of himself, and you can take care of yourself and I am not getting pulled back in.” She turned to gaze at him, her face a mix of confusion, defiance, and trepidation at his reaction.

Bill studied his glasses as she stared at him from across the room, both of them waiting the other out until he finally lifted his head to look at her, whether or not she knew it, even her body language had changed, from the softer woman that had been in his rack, to the defiant survivor and political challenger that now stood in front of him, one hand on her hip as she watched him. He knew very well why she’d stood and moved away from him, probably even more than she did. While on the couch and near enough to the sanctuary of his arms, it would have been too easy to go there, and he could see she was getting ready, wouldn’t admit it, didn’t want to, but she was getting there.

“Oh.” Her giddy confident smile faded slightly as she realized he wasn’t responding, or following her yet. “The legendary Adama silence. I can see right through it. This passive aggressive pretence that you’re okay if I don’t get involved.” She shook her head slightly as she got the accusation out.

Bill took a deep breath, thinking quickly as he moved to stand. “I don’t do passive aggressive.”

“Yes you do, you just don’t know that’s what it is.” Standing, he glanced up in time to see her smile at him. Still the Presidential smirk she’d used to use on him in the CIC, but her tone more Laura now. The fact that she’d actually started to try to use psychology on him amused him and he laughed, crossing to face her.

“Get some rest.” His voice was husky as he inspected her face. They’d been up far too late the night before, curled together on his rack, talking about everything and nothing, and although he was tired, it was nothing like the exhaustion he’d have normally felt after losing sleep. They were filling each others lives, but he was still relatively healthy, compared to her. He could afford to lose the sleep and some energy, but her reserves were dangerously low.

“Rest.” Laura bit back a longer retort. All she frakking did all day was rest. Well, except when she was reading, or listening to the wireless, or exercising. How the frak did women do this all day long, nothing to do…nowhere…she cut off the line of thought before it could continue as he started to button up the rest of his jacket.

“I’ll try to make it home for supper.” At the statement her eyes widened. Had the man been reading her mind about women who just stayed at home all day…what the hell was he up to?

“I’ll have it ready.” She all but batted her eyelashes at him, their pretense at a simple home life amusing her as much as it amused him by his chuckle as he caressed her one last time with his eyes before the Admiral moved toward the door. Watching him become the officer instead of her lover, Laura reacted instinctively, her voice almost an order as the hatch opened. “Cantrell’s the key. Tell Lee, if he can get to Cant…ttr…”

His hand on the hatch as it swung open, Bill glanced back over his shoulder to see the President gazing at him her expression surprised, as if she hadn’t really expected to say anything at all…

Laura blinked, her mind racing as she tried to figure out where that statement had come from. “I’m not…” as Bill’s smile widened, his eyes knowing, she shook her head slightly, her insecurity on full display suddenly as she rocked herself back and forth under his gaze.

When he turned to go, the hatch swinging shut behind him, Laura glanced sideways, blinking furiously to keep the tears from falling from her eyes. What the frak had just happened, anyway. She’d just meant to watch him leave, then fill the hours before he returned, and the frakking thing about Cantrell slipped out? She could have just as easily called Lee and told him…no she couldn’t. The President could have, but she was Laura now. For now. And where the frak had that fragment of a thought come from. Crossing back to the table she absently picked up his discarded cup and sipped at it. Frak it all, he and Saul were both right, this was horrible, even as doctored up as Bill had made his. “Frak…” setting the cup back on the tray, she returned to the couch and dropped into the cushions, wincing as her hip struck the book he’d taken from her a few minutes earlier. Picking it up, she hugged it to her chest and sighed. Somehow her internal vocabulary seemed to be disintegrating as well.

“Cantrell. If he can get Cantrell, he’ll be able to reach the rest of the Quorum, but Lee will know that.” Staring into the space in front of her Laura grimaced. “I hope. I mean, he should, but he’s still…but, no matter how new, he’ll be able to…” With a groan, she leaned back against the couch. “I am not getting involved. Lee can handle it.” Another sigh. “And now I’m turning into Gaius Frakking Baltar, talking to myself. And answering as well, apparently.”

Standing, she placed the book on the table and crossed the room toward the wireless radio in the corner, absently switching it on as she passed by. Listening to the various reporters had actually been fairly interesting over the last few days, in addition to the political posturing, there had been quite a bit of random minutia discussed. Although, why it mattered to her…she was halfway back across the room when she frowned. Something was…different. Turning back toward the wireless, she realized that it was silent. And that never happened. No matter what time she’d turned it on the past few days, somebody had been rambling, a reporter, sometimes she changed the frequency to listen to Gaius, while it didn’t bring her peace, it did make her remember Emily, and the brief time they’d shared, or sometimes she would listen to the Quorum meetings, Lee holding his own, and now that Zarek wasn’t a key, perhaps they would settle down and start to see sense. For once. Although with their track records of only wanting what was best for their people, they couldn’t frakking realize that although each colony needed to retain their heritage, culture, and traditions, with the reduced number of humans, compromises needed to be made. And needed to be started from the top. In this case, with them.

Adjusting the frequency, she frowned and tried several others. Nothing. On any frequency. Biting her lip absently, she tried to remember if Bill had said anything about sensors indicating any areas that would make ship to ship transmissions impossible for a time, solar flares or something of the sort. Trying another frequency, she shook her head and straightened, turning the set off. Must be some sort of problem that would sort itself out in time. She was halfway to the phone to call CIC to find out what was wrong, when she stopped. It was just a disturbance, and the signals would start up again soon enough. It had happened before, would happen again….Gods she hated that saying.

Shaking her head, Laura returned to the rack and perched on the edge, stray thoughts playing at the edge of her mind. She knew Zarek had been using the time she’d needed to solidify his standing…one of the few saving graces was that the one Quorum member that she’d found wouldn’t be swayed by Zarek’s was actually the Sagittarian representative, Cattrell. However, he usually liked to take his time to think things through before acting, and needed a nudge. But, Lee would have recognized that wouldn’t he? He’d been as frustrated as she was at times, she could see it in his eyes. But he still was thinking with his heart, although not as many times as before.

They’d come to terms with what he’d done…what he’d felt he had to do, not realizing the path that his line of questioning would take. And, it had taken many awkwardly phrased conversations between the two of them until they’d put it behind them. And somehow, the three of them, Bill, Lee, and herself, had found themselves closer afterwards. Even if the two Adama men retained their stubbornness about each other. Her lips curved upwards slightly as she remembered evenings where she’d been curled into the corner of Bill’s couch, just watching the two of them…discuss various topics. Inevitable, she’d been drawn into the conversation, usually being able to mediate the three of them into some state of accord. Although, Lee hadn’t been around much the last week or so…Duella’s death had been so…it had hit him so hard, harder than any of them could have expected, with the turn their marriage had taken. She only hoped the Gods, or…well, whoever, understood what Duella hadn’t been able to convey to any of them.

Both of their…Bill’s children were still reeling from the last several months. She hadn’t seen much of Kara, thought she might have glimpsed her as she’d run through the corridors of Galactica, ironically much as Kara had when she’d first met her. What had Kara been running from…or to, she wondered. Or had she just…needed to run. A sentiment Laura could appreciate.

With a sigh, Laura lay back on the rack and stared at the ceiling, her thoughts flowing to the last time she’d gazed at this view, before what Bill had been doing caused her eyes to flutter shut. Gods, what that man could do to her. Her lips twitched, although she liked to believe she could give just as well as she got. Usually. But Gods what she got from him…Reaching up, she caught the collar of his robe and pulled it to her face, inhaling his scent on the material, the smell relaxing her as she curled up on the rack, tucking her legs under the covers.

Lying there was one of the most decadent things she could remember doing since…well, since…a long time. On Caprica, there had always been a meeting to go to, or reports to be studied…or, actually come to think of it, that’s how it had been since Caprica as well, except for a short time on that godsforsaken mudball. Then of course, it had been homework, or survival…even just getting warm had been rare, and that only when she’d gone up to Galactica on one of the very few trips Baltar had allowed, or actually, found out about after the fact. A giggle escaped her as she remembered the fits he’d thrown at her logical explanations for those trips…Lee’s wedding (to which he hadn’t been invited), to obtain materials for the school, an occasional medical checkup requiring Galactica’s equipment, and of course the one she hadn’t given him any explanation for, Bill’s birthday, explaining it off as a trip to do necessary research through Galactica’s archives. Well, in all honesty, she had stayed up late…researching.

So. Decadent. She deserved it, really, she was dying, even faster now that she’d missed some treatments. If she had any sense at all, she would have gotten off the rack and into clothes and herself to see Cottle. But, that would take her back to the rounds of nausea, recovery, weakness…for something that might not even work. And that was how everyone…Bill, would remember her. Like on the Basestar, lying in a bed, hooked up to machines. Although, she’d already taken steps to change that…whatever type of vision it had been. She smiled, remembering the kiss to Bill in the corridor a few days earlier. He’d taken it for how she thought she’d meant it. That she wanted them to have this time together…euphoria be damned. She wanted this time and she wanted to take it with him.

And what a few days it had been…she stretched and resettled into the covers. Gods…the times they’d had with each other since the mudball…few and far between, when one needed the other, sometimes to talk, sometimes more…and this had been several straight days and nights of the more. Reading and listening to the wireless, going on the occasional run while Bill was in CIC, then when he was home, reading to each other, talking, making love and just holding each other through the nights…it had made her feel almost human…almost normal for the first time in a very long time.

Logically, she knew that she needed to deal with…everything. And she would, when she was ready. She listened to Bill, to the wireless, shamelessly eavesdropped on Bill’s conversations when he thought she was asleep, so she knew what was happening. And for the first time, she wanted to allow herself the luxury that everyone else was taking, and it wasn’t like she was painting graffiti or giving up, she was just taking a break. People did that. Even people who were supposed to be in charge. And after all that they’d been through, people…her people, even though she’d let them down…they would still believe, they believed in Baltar, even after what he’d done. So, they’d still believe in her, wouldn’t they?

At the disturbing thought, she sat up. Wouldn’t they? Laura frowned, sliding off the bed and starting to pace through the rooms. They’d stopped once before, when Baltar had promised them a home. Although look how that turned out, at least it wasn’t a radioactive wasteland. So…absently, she paused at the wireless, once again playing with the dials for a few minutes before giving up at the sound of static. Crossing to the table, she picked up one of the pieces of algae roll that Jaffee had brought with the coffee and absently picked at it, finally dropping the crumbs back on the plate. She wasn’t really hungry…and for once, didn’t feel like running. Maybe later that afternoon.

Or not. With a sigh, she returned to the back part of his quarters and gazed at the rack. Tempting, but not as tempting as it could be, since she was alone. Resisting the urge to slide back under the covers, Laura started to make the rack, smiling as she remembered Bill teaching her the correct military way to make a bed. She’d had a simple cot for so long, or that couch thing before that…in all honesty, she truly missed her bed from Caprica. Or to clarify, the comfortable mattress, with the pillows…closing her eyes, she smiled, thinking of what it would have been like to be in that bed with Bill. That deep, rich comfort…the large window looking out at the wooded park, a starry vista at night or dappled sunny rays playing through the curtains during the day. Richard had never come to her home, too many prying eyes, or so he’d said. He’d never have survived the lack of privacy on Colonial One.

Shuddering, she couldn’t even fathom what would have happened if he’d survived. She’d made mistakes, plenty of them, but she’d learned to work with the military, with the civilian support she’d found, and had been relatively successful. Richard had been…well, in a well ordered civilization, he’d been a glowing President, but in what had become of their civilization…she shook her head, no one else was in her head to hear her confession, he’d never have survived, and quite honestly…probably not many others would have. He would have never worked with Bill, only ordered him, as the military arm of Richard’s wishes. While she admitted, some of her decisions could be construed as dictatorial, the vast majority of his would have been. And of course, there was the statement that he’d surrendered quickly to the Cylons…it could have been for negotiations, but having been in his cabinet, and privy to his more…private decisions, his idea of negotiations was to wear people down to his will, one way or another. And in all honesty, he hadn’t really been that glowing of a President, just…charismatic, with a talent for turning people his way before they realized what was happening, something she was more familiar with than she wanted to admit, even to herself in passing. With a final tuck, Laura straightened and eyed the rack. How had he even entered her head, it had been ages since…oh right, her mattress on Caprica. Random and tangential, which was pretty much how all her thoughts were these days.

Continuing toward the head, she untied the robe, carefully hanging it back on its hook on the door before reaching in and turning on the water. Pulling her headscarf off, she held a hand under the stream of water, waiting until it was warm enough before carefully stepping in. Lifting her face to the water, she sighed happily, feeling it run along her skin. A week ago, she wouldn’t have taken the time to enjoy the feeling, a shower being just that. Now, whether with Bill, or alone, she wanted to feel it running along her skin. Of course, with Bill would have been better, but this was good. Her lips curved as she turned, twitching with a giggle as it ran down her scalp and back.

By the time she stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around her body, Laura was feeling…she couldn’t put a name to it, but it was sort of…itchy. Like a student who couldn’t sit still…or, she laughed softly, like she’d been when she’d had too much coffee on an empty stomach after working straight through the night. Itchy…energetic, not necessarily overly motivated…but, wanting. Letting her mind wander where it wanted, she pulled on her clothes, distracted by a curious silence in the quarters. Itchy combined with silence. She giggled at herself, the sound reminding her of the first time she could remember laughing in the Admiral’s Quarters, before the debate, her index cards strewn across his floor as he led her from the room, his arm through hers. Opening a drawer on the table next to the bed, she touched the item she’d found there a few days ago, one of those torn index cards, with a broken pencil that she’d been surprised that Bill had kept. “And we thought those were the difficult days.” She sighed again as she picked up the wig, stepping into the head to put it on, suddenly staring at herself, realizing she was dressed in her suit pants, a new black top she’d found in a pile of clothes she’d been looking through a few days earlier…turning sideways, she inspected her profile for a brief moment before shaking her head. Not exactly presidential, but Bill liked it, and it was comfortable, so who gave a flying frak, if she’d even cared about what anyone had thought about her clothes. And realistically, a lower cut blouse was the least of the worries anyone had at this point.

“Enough.” Passing back through the sleeping area, she picked up her glasses, moving toward the wireless again. When she still couldn’t get anything, Laura frowned, there should be something…anything. The itchy feeling returned, this time however, more of a feeling of premonition. She already had her hand on the handset of the phone when she stopped. How much of this was a simple overreaction to what probably had a logical explanation. Was she already falling into the role of a worried wife? Wanting to know what was going on at all times? Surely if something was wrong, Bill would have found a way to contact her, or would have sent word, becoming lovers wouldn’t have preempted the notification of the Admiral to the President, after all, he’d been dropping tidbits of information and hints over the last few days, solidified by his attempted use of the Adama stare a few hours ago. But…what if something was wrong and he hadn’t been able to…Slowly, she crossed to the hatch, easing it open and expecting to see either Bill’s Marines, or her guards outside. Prepared with a greeting, she faltered at the sight of an empty corridor. Stepping through, she looked both ways, her eyes widening at a distant noise, and voices, and…gunfire? Frak.

Stepping back through the hatch, she pulled it closed before looking around Bill’s quarters wildly for a moment before stopping herself. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she started to pace, focusing her thoughts. All right Roslin, pull it together. No random thoughts, time to focus on what she knew as facts. No wireless communications, no guards at the door, and the sounds of gunfire and screams in the distance. No good, whatever way she looked at it. Of course, the fact that she was now living in the Admiral’s quarters wasn’t necessarily public, or even rumored, based on the shock on Saul’s face a few hours earlier, so perhaps the guards had left to draw…who? Away from her. Had the Cylons…no, there’d been no artillery, no shipwide announcement. So, no Cylon attack. Which left…her face paled. Gods. What if she’d underestimated Zarek…but who could have…would have…on Galactica?

Her earlier conversation with Bill came back into her head, as did Saul’s comments about his being in a leadership role, and how others felt about the Cylon Amnesty…”Frak.” Laura shook her head again, thinking. Bill was somewhere on the ship…he needed to…she couldn’t stay here, and he wouldn’t want her with him, logistically to have the both of them in one place was the reason she’d remained on Colonial One for so long…the seat of power, military and civilian, where they could be taken out in one fell swoop…so. She needed to get herself safe, where she could be protected, and let Bill take care of the military aspect. His crew loved him, she’d seen it in full force. They were a family, sometimes fighting, disagreeing…but always coming back…Her eyes shut for a brief moment. Not always coming back together. They’d underestimated…

At a noise at the hatch, she whirled, her eyes searching the room. Bill had said something about a gun…he kept a backup here…somewhere, but where the frak…the desk, second drawer…she couldn’t make it there, but if she could secure the hatch…moving toward it, she was almost there when the hatch opened, Kara Thrace framed in it, with a gun. Not particularly a memory Laura wanted to recreate, her mind thought in the split second before she realized Lee was with Kara. A blood spattered Lee. Stepping back inside as Kara ordered her in, she was in the middle of the room and listening to Lee before she realized what had happened. Lee…his eyes, something had happened already that morning, she couldn’t fathom what it was, but he was…he was more of her Captain Apollo than she’d seen in a long time. He had…confidence…heat in his expression, and what he was saying…

From there, she stopped thinking and started reacting…Laura pushed to the background of her mind as the President listened, horrified at the realization that the people had indeed…their flight from the destroyed colonies had turned into a civil action…marines killing each other…and “Bill…” the whisper escaped her before she could stop it. As he’d trusted her to rest, to recover…she now trusted him to do what was needed, and knew he’d worry…unless she could get word to him…to her people. To their people. That she was indeed still their President. She’d figure out what to say, she knew what needed to be said, but how to say it and to get them to listen…

As Lee and Kara rushed her through the now familiar corridors of Galactica, Laura’s mind processed what she saw. Bodies…terror…blood and gunshells…unexpectedly, one of the scenes from a book Bill had read to her recently came back, only this time…it was real, not one in Caprica City that was painted in her mind by his words. Stopping in front of Baltar’s…area, she was hit with the realization that her fears had come true, Bill had been taken somewhere, and she agreed with the Chief. It probably was the Brig. But, at least he was still alive. And hopefully concentrating on getting Galactica back, not worrying about her…any more than she was worrying…but compartmentalizing. Which meant…sending Lee, and taking care of what she could. She wasn’t a trained soldier, Lee and Kara were, and could take care of what needed…she had her words, her heart, her passion for her people. And ironically, she was in the one place that wasn’t lacking in passion, even if it was of a different kind. Even more important that the passion, was the wireless Baltar had. It could be jammed, she was aware of that, but she could get some out…

And she did. And then she waited. Lee and Kara would find Bill, or…she refused to follow that thought. The Chief would take care of what needed to be. He always had. And so she waited. And realized that she was waiting with Gaius Baltar. Gaius Frakking Baltar. And had needed to depend on him. Which was wrong on so many levels. More than she could imagine, and yet…they’d spoken, parry and thrust…both admitting and not admitting…he’d disappeared for a few minutes and returned, his eyes showing an expression she couldn’t ever remember seeing on him. He indeed wanted to preserve his own skin, but…somehow he seemed more, human. Clearer, focused…than she could ever remember seeing him. And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see him as that. They’d spoken of Felix Gaeta…of similar decisions…of similarities…and for the first time in several years…she didn’t feel like shooting Gaius on sight. He’d been broken, and so had she. She’d expected people to understand…and yet…with a sigh, she started pacing, waiting again.

Waiting by the Raptor…if Lee and Kara could get him…closing her eyes, she turned toward the small ship, she’d already seen the pilot, she seemed so young, younger than Athena…hearing a metallic sound behind her, she stopped. Not wanting to turn. Not daring to breathe. Until she heard his voice…Laura turned to meet his gaze, their eyes locked and speaking the volumes that their voices couldn’t; the other conversations in the Bay a muffled murmur under the pounding in her head. He was alive. She was alive…she needed him to know she believed in him…and knew what he would do, what he might have to do. It was in both of them, the need to believe and fight for the greater good. She’d needed to not think about it for a time and he’d believed enough for both of them, but now it was time to take her share back. To give him back the strength to do what he would have to do…and he was gazing at her…a shivering whimper escaping her as he stopped in front of her, and time froze.