Confessions and Judgements

As Gaeta finished explaining why he’d been in to visit Baltar in the middle of the night, Laura managed a slight smile and nod before she returned her attention to the table in front of her as the hatch shut behind him. When Bill slid into a seat facing her, she blinked, focusing on him. “What?”

”You tell me.” Reaching out, he brushed her hair out of her face so he could see her eyes, smoky green behind her glasses. “Make sure he eats?”

One side of her mouth twitched in a slight grimace. “He is not making himself a martyr. I’ve no idea what last night was about, but it’s not going to be that easy for him.”

“You have any ideas on why Gaeta went to see him?” Bill poured a glass of water and handed it to her before pouring a second for himself.

“He worked for Baltar…” Laura’s voice trailed off as she thought, absently lifting the glass to her lips to take a swallow. “But.”

“But?” His eyebrow lifted, encouraging her to finish as she gazed across the room.

“But.” With a shake of her head, she focused on him. “Someone was feeding us information from Baltar’s office. I’ve heard…things.”

“As have I.” Bill nodded slowly. “So. Baltar.”

Laura took a deep breath and pushed herself up from her chair, moving silently to pour out the rest of her water and refilling her glass with the whiskey he kept in a decanter. Taking a swallow, she hissed softly, the alcohol hitting the back of her throat. “I want to talk to him.”

He leaned back and watched her pace the room. “Is that wise? You couldn’t even be in the room with him when he came on board with the Cylons.”

”Wise?” She snorted softly, shaking her head and taking another swallow. “Not a clue. But I need to. And…”

“And?” He stood and moved to face her as she tossed back the rest of the drink.

“And,” Laura gazed at him levelly. “I need my journals back. I need to check something. And then I may need a few other things.”

“Very well.” With a nod, he turned and crossed to his safe, opening it as he heard her pick up the handset against the wall and ask for Colonel Tigh in the CIC.

“Colonel,” she hesitated, “Saul…I need, the folder. You know which one I mean.” Watching as Bill placed the wrapped bundle on the table, Laura managed a slight smile and nod in acknowledgement as she continued. “I know, I don’t know if I’ll need it, but…and I’m going to go speak with him.” Another pause, this time eliciting a smile from her, “I’m not stupid, you know that. I’d like you there. Outside, in case I need you.” Her eyes met Bill’s, “no, he’ll be observing, but I think for what I want…it could be, more effective if we’re appearing to go around the chain of command. So to speak.” Her lips twitched at his reply. “Thank you. In about two hours? Good.” Hanging up, she faced Bill. “You understand?”

“That he’s going to think you two are operating without my knowledge?” He nodded slowly. “What folder?”

“I have the journals and some of what I need, he has some other things. We split them up, in case one of us didn’t…well, you get the idea.” Grabbing the decanter, she poured another glass before seating herself in front of the bundle. Carefully unwrapping it, she shuffled through several pads of paper before selecting one. Setting the others aside, she paged through until she started reading, absently taking sips of the whiskey as she did. A few minutes later, she pushed it away and pulled an envelope from between two other pads, setting it to the side. “I need a few things.”

“Such as?” Watching her wrap the pads back up, Bill moved to her side.

“I need a cigar, or cigarette, I don’t care which. A lighter, and his glasses.” Handing him the bundle, she waited as he returned it to the safe.

“Doable.” Securing the safe, he turned to face her again, gazing at her expression and attempting to read it. “Laura?”

“Hmm?” She glanced at him, watching him return to stand in front of her. “What?”

“Come here.” Holding out a hand, he waited as she took it. Drawing her up to face him, he used his other hand to cup her cheek. “What are you going to do?”

“Return a favor.” She stated bitterly, glancing to the side.

“Laura.” He repeated softly. “I need to you to tell me what you need to get through this. And I need you to…”

Letting out a soft sigh, she looked back at him. “I know, Bill.”

”Very well.” Leaning forward, he kissed her gently. “You said two hours?”

“I need to…” She frowned slightly. “I need to look Presidential.”

“I think we can do better than that.” Lifting a hand to trace her cheek, he nodded. “Your extra suit is in my closet. The Laundry delivered it here yesterday, I meant to tell you.”

“Good.” She blinked. “Can I…”

“I have to go to the CIC, use whatever you need.” Releasing her, he stepped back. “I’ll be back in a bit over an hour in case you need anything else.”

“Bill,” still holding on to his hand, she squeezed it. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be back with what you need.” He released her hand. “You’ll be all right?”

“Eventually.” With another slight smile, she watched him leave the room, shutting the hatch behind him. Moving to the head, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and paused for a long moment, inspecting the image she saw. Somehow, she needed more than a change of clothes…reaching out blindly, she picked up the handset on the wall. “I need a connection to Colonial One, Tory Foster in my office please.” Waiting for Tory to pick up, she absently propped the phone between her ear and shoulder, unbuttoning the cuffs to the casual shirt she wore. “Tory…I need you to bring a few things over to Galactica. The Admiral will clear you over, just contact him or Colonel Tigh in the CIC when you’re ready.”

When Bill Adama opened his hatch and stepped inside, he stopped and stared at the woman in front of him, a slow smile crossing his face. “President Roslin.”

“Admiral Adama.” Glancing up from where she was shuffling through a stack of pictures, Laura smiled slightly.

“I see Miss Foster found her way to you.” Continuing toward her, he tilted his head, inspecting her.

“I borrowed your shower, I hope you don’t mind.” One eyebrow raised in amusement. “Do I pass inspection, Admiral?”

He gazed at her, the casual blouse she’d worn earlier replaced with her navy suit, a slight hint of creamy camisole peeking above the slight cleavage exposed by the lower neckline, her hair was freshly washed and fuller, wavier, than he’d seen in a while, her appearance somehow almost softer, more feminine, yet still utterly professional, her makeup enhancing her eyes, and a necklace he’d given her on her last birthday around her neck, the charm catching the light. “I’d say so.” He touched the necklace, “I’m glad you like it.”

“And these.” Lifting the waves of deep auburn, she exposed the matching earrings. “You’re sure I look…”

“You look stunning.” His finger ran up her neck to touch her chin, lifting it so he could kiss her gently. “Presidential. Powerful.”

“Good.” She breathed, her eyes locked with his, seeking his strength.

“I brought you these.” He held out a set of glasses and handed them to her, crossing to his desk as she slipped them into her pocket. “And…” Turning, he displayed a thin cigar, waiting as she took it. “This was my father’s lighter…” He handed her a battered silver lighter, watching as her fingers closed over it, gently rubbing along the scratched and dented sides.

Laura glanced at him quickly, knowing this small item was one of his most treasured belongings. “Thank you. I’ll take care of it.” Experimentally, she flicked the lid off, running her thumb along the flint before lighting it then snapping it closed. “Perfect.” She smiled at him briefly, the smile fading as Saul stepped through the hatch. “Colonel.”

“Madame President.” He nodded, “Admiral.”

“You have them?” Laura stepped forward to meet him as she slipped the cigar and lighter into her other pocket.

“Yeah.” Saul handed her a folder before moving to Bill’s side as she flipped through it. “You sure you want to do this?”

“No.” She paused and shuffled the pictures in the folder before adding the envelope from the table into the folder. Looking up at him, she absently bit her lip before continuing, “I’m nauseous, I want to go get drunk, and leave him in a malfunctioning airlock while I hit the controls. Then, I want…” she shuddered. “I just want to get this done. We need the information he has. We have to know what they know.”

Saul glanced at Bill for a quick moment, “Admiral, why don’t you head on out to the observation room, I’ll escort Madame President in.”

“Very well.” Bill replied slowly, eyeing them. While he knew they’d developed a connection of sorts on New Caprica, they rarely displayed it, even in front of him. This however, was a united front between them, one he hadn’t had to face before, and rather…unsettling. He trusted Saul with his life, and hers, but still…

Laura stepped toward him, holding the folder to her chest and dropping her voice. “It’s all right. Really. Just…be prepared, and let me…handle it. I’ll call for you if I need you. Understand?” He nodded slowly, eliciting a slight smile from her. “I’ll need you…later. All right?”

“You can do this, Laura.” Trusting in what they needed to do, he gently touched her side, where he knew a recently healed scar was, “this? You can do. For yourself as well as your people. I’ll be with you, Saul will be right there, along with a Marine patrol.”

“I know.” With a final smile, she stepped back. “Admiral.”

“Madame President.” He glanced one final time at Tigh, a silent command passing between them before he turned and left the room.

As the hatch shut behind him, Laura turned and eyed Saul, her voice low. “He’s going to be…”

“He’s seen you angry before.” He shook his head, a memory of shared time in the detention center, their cells close to each other flashing through him, her curses and fading screams echoing in his mind briefly. “You sure you want to do this? I can go in there…”

With a sigh, she closed her eyes. “Saul, I need to do this.”

“I know.” At the soft admission, she blinked. “I’ll be right outside the door. You need anything, you call me. Remember the signals? The hand ones we used?”

“Yes.” Moving one hand from its grip on the folder, she flashed a sign at him. “I didn’t forget. Not after you all drilled them into me.”

“Good. Use them.” He jerked his head toward the hatch. “Shall we, Madame President?”

“I think so.” Handing him the folder, she shook her head and took a deep breath, leading the way out through the hatch. Minutes later, she paused just out of sight of Baltar’s cell, closing her eyes for a moment and schooling her face into a passive, slightly amused but sympathetic expression.

“Creeps me out when you do that.” Saul muttered behind her. “Frakking politicians and their masks.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, lips twitching. “Thank you.”

“Just saying.” He grinned at her. “Go get him. And don’t let him get under your skin, until you need it for the extra push.”

Laura nodded and took another breath before striding around the corner and into the cell. Sparing a smile for the marine that opened the door, she paused, catching a glimpse of Baltar’s back as he faced away from her. “Thank you,” she nodded at the guard, “leave the door open?” He nodded back and left the cell as Baltar turned to face her, a bitter, hunted expression on his face as he watched her approach. “Hi.” Laura managed to maintain her slight smile as she handed him his glasses, hoping her urge to throttle him didn’t show on her face. As her mind flashed back to his handing her glasses to her in a cell on New Caprica, she tilted her head, remembering how he’d actually been shaking then, and unable to meet her gaze. Watching him duck his head, she wondered if he was remembering the same thing.

Hoping her hands wouldn’t display her inner feelings, she continued to light the cigar she’d pulled out of her pocket, her eyes only leaving his form as she flicked the lighter and lit the cigar, exhaling one quick puff of smoke as she watched his eyes widen greedily, an addict presented with a opportunity when he reached out for it, inhaling deeply as she tightened her grip on Bill’s lighter, feeling him with her as she leisurely sat, watching Baltar shakily inhale again before opening his eyes and focusing on her.

Realizing clarity had returned to his gaze, she lifted an eyebrow, waiting for him to speak. “Touche, Madame President.” A tinge of bitterness in his tone, as she realized he knew very well what she was recreating, with the addition of her allowing him a smoke, not necessarily as a condemned man, but as a human.

“I have no wish to see you suffer.” Her voice, even to her own ears, was surprisingly level, a softer, huskier version as she struggled to keep the antipathy out of her voice, controlling its tone and level as she gazed at him, unshaven and filthy, their positions reversed from the last time they’d been in a similar situation. Of course, they’d allowed him to keep his shoes, and the lights weren’t blinding in a white cold cell. And there were no screams from down the corridor…she broke off her train of thought before she got lost once again in the nightmare of memories.

“Really.” He exhaled another plume of smoke, nodding his head slightly, “I’ve just had the pleasure of having a tube forced down my nose, down my throat…” he broke off.

Laura nodded sympathetically, “everybody’s got to eat.” As he moved toward her, she remained in her seat, tightening her grip on the lighter as he towered over her, “It’s for your own good.” She refused to let him even think she was intimidated by him as he finally sank down in a chair facing her. “And it’s nothing compared to what many of our people were subjected to in your jail cells on New Caprica.” At that his eyes cut up to meet hers.

“Not my cells.” He stared at her. “Cylons.”

She snorted softly, cutting him off. “An academic distinction at this point, Doctor. You know, none of us are enjoying this, so why don’t you just tell me what I need to know and your suffering will come to an end, and I promise you this.” Laura maintained her eye contact with him, focusing on her goal of getting the information she needed, and praying to the gods that her inner terror and disgust at being so close to him weren’t apparent on her face.

“I know nothing of the Cylon plans or their whereabouts.” Baltar shook his head slightly, “I witnessed nothing in that temple.” His face grew even more desperate, although his tone remained its usual haughty, almost conceited normal level. “Information on Cylon intelligence is…” his gaze slipped from hers as he trembled slightly, “limited, to say the least.”

Laura stared at him, one of the thoughts she’d had earlier coming to mind. If she could get him confused, perhaps… “Prior to the attack on the colonies did you have high level security clearance?”

“Yeah, so what?” He responded automatically, the change of subject catching him off guard.

“Did you tell anybody about it, did you let someone into the defense mainframe,” she watched his eyes widen as he convulsively swallowed. “The blonde woman I saw you with on Caprica just prior to the attack?” Laura waited as he shifted nervously, his attention seeming to wander. Automatically, she lifted Bill’s lighter and flicked it, either the sharp noise or the small flame catching his attention and drawing his gaze back to her for a moment before his eyes closed and he took a deep, shuddering breath, looking like he was trying to formulate an answer…

“Lies.” His expression suddenly clear again, he stared at her for a brief moment before dropping his gaze. “All lies.” Slowly standing, he moved away from her as she watched him, his posture suddenly no longer submissive, but not yet confrontational, “a rehash of all the old lies.” She continued to stare at him, waiting him out, following him with her eyes, the rest of her body remaining still. “I did not collude in the genocide of my own people.”

Laura continued to stare at him, she knew what she’d seen, even if it could have been dismissed as a drug induced vision, it hadn’t been. It had been a clarification…and even now, as he denied his involvement, she could see the wheels turning in his head, convincing him of his own innocence in any wrongdoing, either with the attack on the colonies or on New Caprica. Realizing he wasn’t going to elaborate any more, she stood and moved to face him for a moment, then shook her head, letting out a soft grunt of disgust as she turned away and strode out of the cell, the marine stepping forward to block the entrance as she faced Saul, out of sight and earshot from the cell.

“I heard.” He muttered under his breath. “Frakking idiot still doesn’t have a clue.”

“So we give him one. Or more.” Laura took a deep breath and pushed Bill’s lighter into her pocket, giving it one last squeeze before she held out her hand, “the folder.”

“You okay?” Handing the folder to her, Tigh eyed her carefully. Even he’d noticed she looked a bit more…put together than she’d been recently. Not that she’d been overly casual, but her look lately had been a bit, frak, he didn’t know, softer maybe? And now, it was sort of different, not worse or better, just more, formal, more…officious, and that she’d played up her femininity more than she usually did. Not that he’d mention it, but he’d been aware when Ellen…Shaking his head, he gazed back at her, his mind returning to the present task as she repeated what she’d just asked.

“I said, do you have your flask with you?” She raised her eyebrow as he silently handed it to her. Unscrewing the top, she tilted it back and winced. “That’s horrible!”

“I know.” Taking the flask back, he managed a grin. “Next time bring your own.”

“Next time, let’s do this in an airlock.” Laura grimaced. “Speaking of which, if we get to that point, I want him dragged through the memorial corridor, but I don’t want an audience. Can you get it cleared from here through there to an airlock? If it comes to that?”

Saul glanced past her to where Bill stood, out of sight from the cell and waited for his nod. “Yeah, I’ll take care of it. Call me when you want me in, I’ll brief the marines while you’re…doing whatever it is you’re gonna do.”

“Thanks.” With another deep breath, Laura turned and met Bill’s eyes briefly before he stepped back out of sight. Flipping the folder open, she selected the first few photos she wanted before returning to the cell, where Baltar was now sitting on the floor against a wall.

Twenty minutes later, flanked by two marines who were inconspicuously guiding her direction, she was striding through the memorial corridor, Baltar’s yells and curses following her as she yelled back at him, her voice more strident and hoarse than it had been in a while, her memories of the last time her throat had felt like this, strained and raw from the screams the Cylons had dragged from her, fueling her rage as she yelled back at him, her voice mixing and overriding him. When he finally started yelling for them to stop, she whirled and faced him, her fury overcoming her as she gestured wildly, ordering the marine guard to keep their guns on him, and inwardly hoping this was a futile escape attempt and that they’d be forced to shoot…

When he grabbed at a picture, telling them that it was a former lab assistant, his eyes and voice growing wilder, she stared at him, teeth bared as she yelled back, finally losing all patience with herself and with the situation…ordering them to take him to an airlock, but knowing they would be taking him back to his cell, she strode off, blindly finding her way back to Bill’s quarters, Baltar’s screams and yells following her, first in her ears, then in her head.

By the time Bill and Saul joined her, Laura’s bout of throwing up in the head had ended, and she was seated in a chair, her head resting on her laced fingers, elbows braced on her knees as she struggled to get her emotions back under control. Eyes closed, she concentrated on breathing, listening as they closed and sealed the hatch before seating themselves. When Bill finally stood, Laura glanced up for a brief second, her body rocking back and forth as they spoke, not really listening until something in Bill’s voice caught her attention, causing her to glance up again, this time focusing on him. Had he said there is one thing? And his tone…

Swallowing painfully to try to get anything out of her throat, Laura blinked. “Admiral?” She swallowed again, not recognizing her own hoarse voice for a moment as he glanced down at her. Realizing she didn’t have much of a voice, she tilted her head at him, encouraging him to continue as she stared up at him, eyes wide. As he spoke about the military use of drugs…hallucinogens…utilized in experiments, she straightened. And he’d been upset at her use of chamalla? When he continued, her mind raced ahead and she sat back, pushing her glasses up as she crossed her arms, thinking about the implications of the experimental drugs…the subject believing their life, their survival was at stake…but wasn’t that what they were needing the information for? For their lives? Their survival?

Laura caught Saul’s expression out of the corner of her eye and turned her gaze to meet his, both of them realizing the gravity, as Bill stated the difficulty, Baltar’s medical and mental condition, and the shared wondering if they could indeed go through with it. Turning as one to face Bill, she spoke for both of them. “You’re telling me we have these drugs on board Galactica?” When he continued to stare at her appraisingly, she took a deep breath. Once again, and he’d torn her apart for using chamalla?

Hours later, it was over, and her head pounding with every breath she took, Laura had accepted Bill’s invitation to rest in his bunk…rack, whatever the frak it was called after the three of them had sat and discussed the meaning of the final five, trying to find a strategy that would work…something she was well enough prepared to develop…finding a carrot to dangle in front of him. Someone that he could trust. She shuddered, the past day making her realize she was becoming harsher, more analytical…not that she ever thought she’d been naïve, but during her first term, survival had been the foremost concern, and now, the survival was harsher…it wasn’t a clear cut us and them any more…and knowing who or what to trust…so little black and white, so much gray…they’d decided to wait only long enough for the drug to work its way out of Baltar’s system, which since one of its properties was an element that broke it down and flushed it fairly quickly, was only a matter of hours. Three or four…she’d lost count until the call from Cottle had come, that Baltar had been returned to his cell, lucid and coherent, if a bit hoarse, and remembering nothing of what had happened.

So they’d gone to Lieutenant Gaeta. She knew very well it was risky, and none of them had been sure, sitting in the tiny observation room, watching him work with words, talking to Baltar, whose return to sanity and clarity had been almost miraculous. He’d discerned in a matter of minutes the rather obvious plan for Gaeta to get information then turned the tables on him, needling him until it had been the Lieutenant who’d cracked. Perhaps in his own mind, Baltar truly believed that he’d been forced to play both sides, had a gun to his head…But what none of them had expected was for Gaeta to actually attack Baltar…she’d managed to distract him while Bill slid around the other side, as much as it would have solved so many of their problems, had it come about that he’d died while in the cell, it would have created more problems within the fleet. As she’d knelt next to Gaeta, his head resting on her lap, she’d known what would have to happen.

And here she was in probably the one place she could trust, and relax. All she knew was that it was peaceful, dimly lit, warm, and made her feel safe. Eyes closed, she waited for the painkillers she’d taken to dull the pounding, her thoughts returning to her encounters with Baltar, from the cell…to the corridor…and the horrifying episode in Sick Bay. Watching what they’d done to him…had they really resorted to the drug induced torture they’d placed him under? When he’d accused her in her cell on New Caprica of her support of the suicide bombers, she’d wondered what they’d become, sending people to their deaths, and now here she’d been, part of the torture they’d put him through…where did good end, and where did evil for good begin…she lifted her hand to her head as the pounding intensified. At least she’d been able to change out of the suit jacket into one of her more comfortable blouses, a red one Bill had somehow procured for her, saying he’d found it and thought she’d like it….With a groan as her head throbbed, she choked back another sob.

Had they actually descended to the depths of the torture that the Cylons had put them through on New Caprica, and even if it had been because they’d been driven to it…when they’d placed the headstrap on Baltar, his drugged terror…the convulsions…his screams…they were all too familiar, reminding her of the screams she’d heard in the Detention Center…some of them her own, some of them others…And here she’d participated…condoned…and when he’d finally rambled on about the blonde on Caprica, she thought she’d feel justified…something…anything but the horror and depths of her own emptiness as he screamed…the howl draining into the dimly lit Sick Bay. Then his revelation that he actually wanted to be a Cylon…one of the final five? Followed by silence, despite Bill’s whispered encouragement of an answer…just an eerie…deathlike silence…broken by Cottle’s ending the session.

“Frak…” With a groan, she turned on her side, something digging into her hipbone as she did. Bill’s lighter. Pulling it out, she wrapped her fingers around it, holding onto it for a long time, as a talisman to reality and the present, tears running down her cheeks unnoticed until Bill gently wiped them away.

“Hi.” Groggily, she gazed up at him. “Bill?”

“Yeah.” As she rolled onto her back, he gazed down at her, his eyes fathomless in the dim light. “You all right?”

“No. Yes.” She sighed. “I don’t know. Head…all hurts…”

“You want a drink? Something for your throat?” Reaching out, he brushed her hair off her face.

”Not yet.” Laura closed her eyes for a long moment as he watched her. “I told him I didn’t take any satisfaction in seeing his pain.” She hesitated, weighing her words. “But the truth is, I was willing to see him endure a great deal of suffering…in order to get what I wanted.” She felt Bill shift his weight slightly before she continued. “It wasn’t some…intelligence, some truth. I wanted…a genuine admission of guilt.”

Bill took another breath as she fell silent, his husky voice breaking the silence. “That’s not something you’re going to get from someone like Baltar.” Her eyes flickered to his face for a moment before returning to gazing at the ceiling, “He doesn’t see himself that way. It’s not who he is…” Laura shifted slightly, her attention focusing on his profile once again. “In his eyes,” he turned his head to meet her gaze, “he’s the victim.” After a moment, he returned his attention to his hands, “not the criminal.”

Laura blinked back a tear, realizing the truth behind his words. She’d had students like that, and had certainly met more than her share of politicians that truly felt that what happened around them and to them was in no way their fault, or related to their ignorance or guilt, but were entitled to the rest of the universe adhering to their beliefs, their righteousness…realizing Bill was speaking again, she focused on him, a sigh escaping her lips.

”It’s not too late for him…to just…” he swallowed, staring across the room, “disappear.” At the statement, one that she knew he would do if she wanted it, and would defend her decision if she requested it, Laura gazed at him, a smile crossing her lips. They’d come so far independently, and together. The Bill Adama who’d almost thrown her off the ship for even suggesting linked computers…who she’d argued with almost constantly it seemed like at times…who’d even removed her from office, was volunteering to…slowly she reached out and rested her hand on his forearm, absently caressing the textured material of his uniform.

“We can’t do that.” At her hoarse whisper, he turned to meet her gaze, searching. “For all his crimes, he’s one of us.”

He nodded slightly, “so what happens next?”

When she didn’t answer right away, he turned his head, searching her expression for an answer before she finally spoke. “We give him his trial.”

Bill gazed back out at the room, her hand still gently resting on his arm, for a long moment. Finally, he looked back down at her and nodded, then bent and kissed her forehead as she closed her eyes and edged over as he lay down next to her, his hand gently stroking through her hair until she fell asleep.

Carefully edging out of the rack, he crossed to the head, pulling off his uniform jacket and hanging it up before picking up his razor. He’d just finished rinsing his face and was reaching for a towel when it was handed to him. “Thanks. Thought you’d still be asleep.”

Laura hummed softly, shaking her head as she studied his reflection in the mirror. Sliding her arms around his waist, she rested her chin on his shoulder. “I should get going, back to Colonial One. This whole…mess with Baltar has forced me to neglect some of the other things I should have been dealing with. I need to get back to deal…”

“Stay.” He asked softly, still meeting her eyes in the mirror. “Please? You’re going to have nightmares, you know that.”

“Yes sir, I do.” Smiling sadly, she tilted her head slightly, their cheeks meeting as she rubbed hers against his. “Still…”

“It’s late. We need to discuss…the situation.” Turning, he faced her. “And, you’re exhausted, you need the rest, not a brief nap on your cot before you wake up. I’m sure Miss Foster also brought over your briefcase of work, in case you need to review something to ease your mind, deal with some of those things you feel you need to. Neither of us have eaten today…”

She gazed at him for a moment before slowly just leaning forward and resting against him, her eyelashes fluttering against his neck as she sighed softly, one hand absently tracing his outer tank before sliding underneath it. “This is dangerous, we know that.”

“Life is dangerous, Laura.” Bill murmured gruffly, his hands supporting her waist, “this is a moment to rebalance what we need. Stay. We only take and give what the other needs here, you know that. And right now, you need…” Her lips curved against his skin and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head as he felt her relax, an unspoken capitulation. “Thank you.”

“Hmm.” With another soft sigh, she lifted her head. “I still have a headache. Despite this frakking day, I think it was Saul’s flask.”

He chuckled, stepping back slightly and reaching to turn the shower on. “I think it might have been everything but Saul’s flask.” Returning his attention to her, he traced the neckline of the blouse she wore. “I’m glad you like the shirt.”

Laura smiled wearily. “Thank you for finding it for me.” Falling silent for a moment, she tilted her head, gauging his mood before gesturing toward the shower. “Is that for me, or a hint to get out?”

“You decide.” His eyebrow lifted. He was ready for it to be whatever she needed it to be. He could read in the depths of her eyes the exhaustion within her, not to mention her own consternation, conscious or unconscious, about what they’d done to Baltar that day. No matter what had been done to her, or her people….

“I’m tired of deciding. Of thinking.” Stepping forward, she closed the space between them, her hands sliding under his tanks and upwards as her lips landed on his, only breaking away to pull the tanks over his head, both of them panting slightly, his discarded tanks still clutched in her hand. “Your turn, Bill.” He inclined his head, reaching behind him to grab the clip he’d seen on the shelf and quickly pulled her hair back, piling it loosely on her head before fastening it with the clip, and moving his attention to the small buttons along the front of her shirt. Seconds later, they were working on each other’s pants, stumbling with lost balance in the small room until their clothes were tossed haphazardly in a pile by the hatch, their lips once again locked together as Bill backed her into the shower.

“Your back all right?” He muttered as she arched against him when the water hit her skin, his mouth moving to her ear.

“Yes…” She gasped again, the steam rising around them, as she lost her control on her emotions. “Bill…” her voice choked off into a sob.

“Shh.” Tightening his grip on her, he caught her mouth again as she clung to him, shaking, tears running down her cheeks mixing with the water being spattered along them. Turning them so the water was now hitting his back, he backed her against the wall, pausing only briefly as she slid her arms up his chest, wrapping them around his neck. “Laura…it’s all right, you’re safe in here, with me. I’m not going to let anyone get to you, you know that.” She nodded, her sobs still choking out above the fall of the water. “Shh…” As he continued murmuring to her, she let his words wash over her soul, soothing her for the brief time she could let them before everything fell apart again. When she mumbled something against his neck, he pulled back slightly. “What?”

Laura sniffed, coughing slightly before repeating herself. “Why…couldn’t he just have…died? And what have I…how can I ask…”

“You’re human.” Using his thumb, he stroked her cheek. “You have thoughts…you need to have those to know you’re human. You’re not a terrible person, or a Cylon because you have those thoughts. You…we knew New Caprica was going to be a mistake…”

“Thousands…of our people…Frak him, Bill…how could he…how could we let…” She choked off brokenly, “why couldn’t he just stay dead and gone…it’s hard enough…why can’t we catch a frakking break for once, why do we have to keep running…fighting…killing…why…”

“I know.” He watched her come apart in the steam, the water running around them, washing through her words and tears, “I know, Laura…and if I could take it all away for you, I would…”

“I know.” She echoed, her voice cracking as she reached up for his cheek. “I know you would, and you have to know what that means to me…to the President, but more so to…me.”

“And like you,” Bill leaned in toward her ear again, resting his forehead on the wall next to it, “I want to. That’s why I said it could happen…we needed to get it out in the open. To get past it.” She nodded slightly, “I want to believe the people will see what we do this time, to see what he caused… and I want him to pay,” one hand ran along first her side, then her back lightly dancing across the healing scars left there from New Caprica. “We sank down to his level today…it’s not going to happen again.”

“No.” Laura agreed softly, a whisper above the water. “I’ve done it intentionally too many times now…the election, on New Caprica…and in Sick Bay this afternoon. I can’t do it…it’s becoming too simple, to take his way…” She shuddered in his arms, causing him to turn her into the warm stream of water again. “I’m all right. I just can’t let…I can’t take…”

”We did it together.” He grimaced slightly, “the election, today. And had I been there, on New Caprica with you…”

“You would have been killed.” She stated softly, eyes opening to gaze into his. “You have to know that. And then I wouldn’t…we wouldn’t have you at all. Wouldn’t be here…still trying to find Earth at all. Believe that, Bill.” Her fingers dug into his shoulders. “I know you still feel guilty about leaving…us there. But, if you hadn’t…they would have killed you Bill. They wouldn’t have just threatened you, abused you, stuck a feeding tube down your throat…taken an eye…they would have killed you, if not both of us…without needing me to find you…to control the others. We would both have been dead. You had to leave us.”

“It nearly did kill me.” He confessed roughly, his breath caressing her ear. “To imagine, and to know…what could be happening to you, to all of you…”

“Do you remember…” Laura took a deep breath and reached over, grabbing the washcloth and soap, using both on him as she spoke, “do you remember the conversation we had after the…situation with Helo and the Chief and the Pegasus?”

“Where you told me,” he tilted her chin up so he could see her eyes as her hands continued washing him. “I was going to have to kill Cain?”

“Yes.” She dragged the soapy washcloth along his chest, tracing his scar. “You asked if the world had gone mad…”

“I remember.” Taking the washcloth and soap from her, he copied her actions, washing her as she stared past his shoulder at the wall of the shower. “She was my superior officer…”

“And I was your Commander in Chief.” Her eyes slid to meet his levelly. “I needed…for the greater good.”

“You are my Commander in Chief.” He raised an eyebrow. “You were facing death, you didn’t know who else to trust…Billy was so young, he wasn’t ready…”

“I had to protect our people.” Laura stated softly. “I’d never realized I could do something like that. Give an order like that. I’d seen Adair do it, and give other orders that he expected would be obeyed without question.” She took a breath. “And, I had a little more information than I might have revealed at the time. I know what she was capable of. We’d…met before. In the President’s office on Caprica, the week before I met you. I had gone back to retrieve a briefing folder I’d left there, and found her…with Richard. They were quite…cozy.”

“Laura…” he was fully aware of the relationship she’d had with the former president, they’d discussed it one night…one of those conversations when they’d first started working together, trying to find out more about each other, to see if they could truly trust each other with the survival of the remainder of their civilization, her confession that she was only still Secretary of Education because the President hadn’t released his press release that he was asking for her resignation, although she hadn’t planned on giving it to him, on his terms.

“Not that cozy, yet. Although, things were headed that way, or so it seemed. Honestly, I wouldn’t have been surprised. They did share certain…personality traits.” Absently, she ran her hands around his sides to rest on the small of his back. “However, I heard some things they probably didn’t realize I’d heard…it was enough that although I was prepared to hope that she would have changed, adapted to the situation, I was aware that her prior experience and perspectives would put us all at risk.” She leaned forward and kissed him gently. “The kiss you gave me that night…it was so beautiful…”

“I was faced with losing you.” He tightened his grip on her, “with losing what I didn’t realize I would lose until the Pegasus arrived. I’d known…but I didn’t…”

“We’re here now.” Laura breathed out then glanced around the shower as if seeing it for the first time. “Although, I don’t know if either of us would have ever…” She giggled, her laughter sparking his own, “Bill, what exactly are we doing here, anyway?”

“We’re conserving water.” He managed to get out between chuckles as she clung to him.

“So that’s what we’re calling it today?” She reached out and shut off the water, leaving them in sudden silence. “And if I’d rather call it something else? Or do something else?”

“Why, Madame President…” Bill grinned at her. “Headache gone?”

“Still there, Admiral.” She took the towel he handed her and wrapped it around her body as they stepped out of the shower. “Maybe we should try something different?”

“Perhaps dinner?” Fastening the towel around his waist he turned to look at her as she stepped over the pile of discarded clothes. “Or another pain pill?”

“I don’t know,” Laura paused next to his rack, still rumpled from where they’d been lying on it earlier. “I was thinking more of increasing my blood pressure…”

“After dinner.” He tossed her his robe. “Otherwise, we won’t eat, you’ll feel guilty because you haven’t done any work…”

“Spoilsport.” Pulling on his robe, she wrinkled her nose at him, but admitted to herself he was right. Much as all she wanted to do was lose herself in his arms, the short time they’d take tonight before going to bed to eat and work would soothe her conscience enough to let her spend the night, letting him help her when the nightmares came, for once someone else there with her as she fought her own personal demons, although more recently, she’d been coming to realize that her personal demons were shared by the man as well as the Admiral. “You call for dinner, I’ll call Tory?”

“Deal.” Catching her around the waist, he pulled her against him. “Laura?”

“Yes?” She blinked up at him, eyes wide in the dim light of his cabin.

“You’re not a bad person. Don’t let yourself get so caught up in what you’ve had to do…don’t live in it. Remember it, learn from it, but don’t let it overwhelm you.” Taking her chin, he kissed her tenderly, much as he had the first time, the night she’d made him her Admiral. The Fleet’s Admiral. Oh frak it, she admitted it to herself, her Admiral. “All right?”

“So say we all.” Laura whispered, eyes bright once again with unshed tears as she gazed at him, the naked pain and emotion in his eyes that he only allowed her to see, much as he was the only one who saw into her soul. “So say we both.”