Laura shook her head. He was going to send in the Colonial Guard to deal with the "dangerous" strikers. At least that's what she'd just read in the Caprica Times. She skipped past the indignation-there'd be plenty of time to feel that later-and went straight to the heart of the problem: They were teachers not terrorists. If this got out of hand, it would be worse than Seacade-for both of them. She couldn't let that happen, especially when lives were potentially at stake. Richard liked to say they were her teachers, but they were, and she couldn't let anything happen to them.
She'd always wanted out of politics, but after Seacade and those ten grueling days with the assembly committee-and months of media scrutiny-she was biding her time. After the support President Adar showed her, she had been unwilling to leave while he needed her, but she no longer owed him anything.
Her performance under fire during those ten days made her look weak and stupid. She wasn't sure which was worse. The press went after her afterward, and they hounded Richard to replace her. She went to the office after the hearing, fully expecting it to be her last time. Instead, Richard publicly supported her in an impromptu press conference at the entrance of the government building.
After that, the press speculated about them for awhile, but some talk show hosts scoffed at the idea, citing her age: She was nearly a decade older than his wife. Laura had to admit the logic behind the speculation was faulty, and at the time, it was completely unfounded. Eventually, Laura was written off as a lonely spinster, and the press left her alone-for more interesting stories.
She returned to work with a zeal she didn't have before. It wasn't that she loved her job. Many days she hated it. But she hated failing more. She was determined to undo the damage of Seacade, never wanting to appear weak or stupid again.
At some point, the speculated affair became a real one. At first, it was almost like being in a relationship. They were friends and colleagues for years. He respected her; she had supported his administration from his earliest days in the Mayor's office. Aside from his wife, she was the closest person in the worlds to him. She never took advantage her access to the President's ear, and she never wrangled for a higher place in his cabinet: 43 was plenty close enough to the Presidency for her. In return, he let her run her department.
Over time, she succeeded in turning her office around-again. She took a top-down approach to her staff. For a while, her department had the highest turnover rate of any governmental department in the history of the Twelve Colonies. It was a lot like the weeding she used to do with her mother: At first, it was a chore, but once she started, there was such a satisfaction in knowing only those who'd proved their merit could stay in Secretary Roslin's department.
But those good feelings didn't last. After a while, her relationship with Richard became another part of her job, for which she'd lost her earlier zeal. She became passive, simply going through the motions. She was still good at her job, and no one had any reason to complain, but her heart wasn't in it. Nor was it in her relationship with Richard. She couldn't even bring herself to go to the doctor when she first made the discovery. When she thought about her life, there didn't seem like much to hold onto, so she didn't.
Then, the teachers' strike happened. At first, she handled it with the same passivity as she had with everything else of late. But then she read the morning paper. The news of Richard's plans reignited a fire that had died long ago. It couldn't have come at a better time. She'd do what was right for the teachers, the children, and herself, putting an end to her personal and professional relationship with Richard in the process. Laura smiled. It was perfect. Better than she ever could have planned it. Her swansong.
Laura put the paper down. She picked up her coffee mug and finished it off. It had gotten lukewarm, but she didn't mind much. It had been years since she'd been able to finish a cup while it was still hot. She just had to play the game a while longer; then she'd be free.
She looked out the kitchen window. The sun was just beginning to come out. It was going to be a beautiful day. She'd push for a meeting in the square, by her fountain.
She picked up her wireless phone, glanced quickly at the contact information she had for the teachers' union, and dialed the number. The day was going to be full of surprises.
She listened as it rang once, twice, three times, hoping it wouldn't go to voice mail: She hated the way her messages sounded. Someone picked up on the fourth ring. "Hello," a woman said.
"Good morning. This is Secretary Laura Roslin. I'd like to meet with Mr. Stans. Is he free to meet later this morning? Say 11:30?"
She could hear the woman collect herself. It was understandable. The strike had been going on for weeks with no results. That was going to change. "Yes, he's free then. Where would you like to meet with him?"
"I'll be sitting near the fountain in the square." She thought for a minute. "I'll be wearing a lavender outfit."
"I'll notify him when he comes in, Madame Secretary."
"Thank you. Have a good day."
She ended the call. The first part of her plan was in place.
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"...They're just teachers not terrorists."
Laura and Richard had been going back and forth about sending the Colonial Guard for several minutes. She knew enough to leave her indignation out of it. They both knew he'd disregarded her position (and not for the first time). The ruse was for Laura to continue acting as passive as she had been. Bringing her indignation into it would ruin that illusion.
"They're acting like thugs," Richard said. He sat at his desk, beginning a litany about how awful her teachers were acting.
Somewhere along the line, he'd lost the ability to understand people. It saddened her. He was responsible for the lives of 50 billion citizens, but they weren't individuals anymore. When had he become the man who would rather send the Colonial Guard to handle a bunch of unarmed civilian teachers than have a conversation? How did he possibly think that would solve anything?
"I don't understand why we can't at least talk to them." That wasn't exactly true. On one level, it was precisely how she felt, but she also understood Richard's policies perfectly well. She'd witnessed his gradual decline, beginning with his second year in office.
"One of the interesting things about being President is not having to explain myself...to anyone." He looked at her. "You've already set up the meeting with Stans, haven't you?"
"Only if you approve, Mr. President." She tried not to look too pleased with herself.
In the end, he relented because she'd left him no choice.
"I have to go," she said, leaving the office without waiting for his response.
As glad as she was to get out of his office, she was dreading the next appointment. The message from the medical center didn't sound good. She'd been passive for too long. No more.
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She sat on the ledge of the fountain. Dipping her foot. If she wasn't due to meet with Stans, she'd stand under it. Like before. The funny thing was she was even more determined to work with Stans. This meeting-and everything that resulted from it-would likely be among her final actions on this world. Her swansong.
The water was cool against her foot. Soothing. It was a beautiful day. After a cold winter, it was wonderful to have such a gorgeous spring. The temperature was bordering on summer. Laura took off her jacket. It was stuffy. Constraining.
She'd strive to spend more time outdoors, sitting, reading. If her body allowed it, she'd consider taking up jogging again. It had been years since she'd run, aside from between buildings when she was late, but the urge had never gone away.
There were many decisions to make. In the past, she made her best decisions when she was running. She could certainly use the help now.
"Secretary Roslin?"
She looked up. The politician in her knew how bizarre she appeared. Laura didn't give a frak. "Yes?"
"Naylin Stans." He approached enough so he could offer his hand. She shook it. "I have to say I was surprised to get your message."
She smiled, slightly. "The President was surprised I'd sent it." She gestured to the walk way. "Care for a walk?"
He nodded. "Anything you say, Madame Secretary."
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In one day, she did what President Adar and his literal army wouldn't have been able to do. She ended the teachers' strike. She did it peacefully, and it didn't cost her anything but time. They'd return to the schools where the children of Caprica needed them. Whatever Adar says, however he tries to turn it into a problem, she knew she did the right thing. She'd take that knowledge to her grave.
He opened the door, letting her in, all trace of his earlier anger was gone. He shut the door and moved toward her, close. He wanted to be Richard and Laura again. "I didn't like the way we left things this morning."
She put her hand on his chest. "We shouldn't-"
"I know. You've been saying this was a bad idea for months now."
He kissed her. She let him for a moment. There was a time when she would have enjoyed it, and maybe there was a shadow of that former enjoyment, but it faded quickly. She pulled away, moving further into the room, wiping him off her lips, with her lower lip. "I just met with Stans. The Educational alliance is gonna back off."
The change came over him quickly, as she knew it would. "Back off? Laura, What did you give them?"
"I made them a promise that we'd seriously hear out their grievances, Richard. I thought you'd be happy they're going back to work."
"Laura, you put me in a very awkward position."
She knew all about his position. It boiled down to 'if you give a mouse a cookie,' and she just destroyed it. Good. "I don't see how. Both sides gave ground," she said, going for naivety.
"It's not just about your teachers. It's the next strike I'm worried about. You've just shown them that if they hold out long enough, this administration will cave."
She smiled. It was time he knew. "You expected me to fail."
"I expected you to hold the line." He paused. "This doesn't have to be the end of the world. You can stay in an advisory capacity. Gods know, we need your ideas."
"Are you asking me to resign?"
"I don't have a choice. This isn't about you and me anymore."
"You're right it's not. You were willing to attack those people, and up until a few hours ago, I was prepared to let you. I'm on my way to the Galactica to represent this administration. When I return, if you still want my job be prepared to fight."
She'd resign alright, but she'd do it on her own terms.
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"Is there anything you need, Madame Secretary?" The new aide, Billy, asked.
He was so young, like he should have been going to the Galactica on a field trip rather than as a government representative. In spite of that-or maybe because of it-she liked him immediately. They'd spent the last few days getting to know each other a bit. Billy didn't know she selected him personally, and she didn't tell him. It was fun watching him work to impress her, unaware that he'd already passed the tests.
She looked at him. He had so much life ahead of him. Spending the rest of her life mentoring him seemed like a suitable legacy. It was the best she could hope for at this point. "I'm fine, Billy. Thanks." She smiled at him. Thinking of something. "Wait. What do you know about the teachers' strike?"
"Didn't you settle it?"
She nodded. "I did, but how did you know that?" She peered at him over her glasses. "It's not common knowledge."
He blushed. They'd have to work on his triad face. "I overheard you talking to the rest of your staff before we left."
She tsked. "Eavesdropping on your new boss." She shook her head. "I'll have to remember that."
"I can't tell if I'm in trouble or not."
She smirked. "I haven't decided that either."
"It's not too late to change your mind, then."
"Maybe not. Since you already know everything," she paused, watching him blush. "I might as well tell you the President was very displeased with me for settling the strike."
"If you give a mouse a cookie."
"What?"
"That's what his policies remind me of, ma'am."
If she weren't already sure, she'd have decided she loved Billy in that moment. She smiled. "Yes. That's it, exactly. You can understand how angry he is, then."
"Are you saying you won't be my boss for long?"
"Not if the President has his way." She sighed. "And there's something else."
"You're sick."
She shot him a look.
"It was some of the things you said. I just...knew."
"I'm dying."
"And you want to make sure the strike stays settled before that."
She nodded.
"You can count on my help, Madame Secretary."
"I know I can, Billy. Thank you." She fought a yawn and gave him an embarrassed smile. "I'm going to sleep awhile. We'll have a lot of work to do when we get back to Caprica."
"We'll be ready, ma'am."
She fell asleep, plotting their next moves.
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Laura sat in her office. The return trip from Galactica was a great time to deliberate. She called Billy in.
He was in her office and in front of her desk in seconds.
"Good morning, Billy. I need you to set up two appointments for me. One with Stans and one with my doctor."
"Did you decide what you're gonna do?"
She nodded. "Fight."
He smiled, said, "Good," and left her office.
She opened her computer and started comparing wigs. She'd never been a blonde before. When the time came she'd ask for Billy's opinion. Or maybe not. He knew nothing about women.
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She met with the doctor first, beginning with apologizing for rushing out of his office. He smiled reassuringly. "You're not the first." He sighed. "I wish I could give better news."
"Then you'd be lying," she said. She understood his burden.
"I urge you to start diloxan therapy immediately."
"Can I still work?"
He nodded. "I'd like you to cut your hours back, though."
She smiled. "I think I can do that."
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"What is it with you and fountains, Madame Secretary?"
She looked up to see Stans again. She wondered what he must think of her. "Water soothes me."
He raised an eyebrow. "You need to be soothed?"
She nodded. "Sometimes, yes."
"Why do I get the feeling you're about to give me bad news?"
"Because I am, but not as bad as I could." She paused, gesturing to the pathway they'd walked on last time. "Care for another walk?"
He reached out his hand for her to take. "Sure."
When they'd gotten on the path, she started. "The President doesn't want to settle."
"Because of our actions?"
She shook her head. "Because of the other unions that could strike later."
"I see. He'd rather send the Guard."
"Yes."
"But you're here."
She nodded. "I believe in this cause-and my own actions. He wants my resignation over this, you understand, so I'm involved as much as you now."
"What will you do?"
"The one thing I hate most in the worlds."
"Sleep with Adar?"
She snorted. She'd missed the sense of humor of teachers. "Talk to the press."
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"Have you come to your senses?"
He sat at his desk, barely looking at her over his papers. It didn't have to be like that. She wondered how she'd act if their positions were reversed.
She shook her head. "I was never out of them. Have you come to yours, Mr. President?"
He looked up then. "Laura, you know I have no choice." There was a trace of regret there. She suspected there was a strip of paper with her name on it in his drawer.
"No, Richard, I don't. That must be one of those things I'd have to be President to understand."
"You're not gonna go easily, are you?"
She shook her head. "No. I'm not."
"That's probably what made me fall in love with you in the first place."
She snorted. "You never loved me, and if that's all, I'll be going. I have an appointment."
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After a few weeks of treatments, she'd begun losing her hair. In the end, she decided on a wig that was close to her actual hair color and style. Billy had been taking on more of her day-to-day tasks, but she still met with Stans regularly to discuss their plans. He was also one of the few people in the worlds who knew she was sick.
The nausea had gotten the best of her during one of their meetings, and it seemed pointless to keep the truth from him.
He looked at her with something like admiration. "And you're still fighting for us?"
She smiled. "I am, yes."
She didn't tell him that it was their strike that had given her that drive back. He took her hand and squeezed it. "Thank you."
She and Stans had worked it out. She was ready to go to the press. Billy "leaked" the story. It wouldn't be long before the press were camped out in front of her building.
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"Madame Secretary, is it true you and Naylin Stans settled the teachers' strike?" Playa Palacios asked.
Laura remembered she was one of the few members of the press corps who'd supported her actions during Seacade. She was glad to see her now. "Yes it is."
"Then why aren't they back in the schools?" Karen Fallbrook asked.
"Because the President overturned our settlement."
"Why?" Playa asked.
"I can't speak for the President. You'd have to ask him. But I know he's looking for a replacement for me."
"Because of your actions now? Or Seacade?" James McManus asked.
He'd been especially critical of her performance at Seacade. She was grateful for that now, though. She took off her wig. "Because I'm dying. That's all. Thank you."
She turned around and entered the building, ignoring the clamor behind her.
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When the next morning's paper read "The President declares war against teachers and cancer patients," Laura knew she won.
Her phone rang. "Yes?"
"Is it true?" Richard asked.
"That you declared war against me, or that you lost?"
"That you're dying?"
"Oh, that. I'm afraid it is true, yes. I'm assuming you've seen the photos of my bald head by now."
"Yes, but you could have shaven it."
"I'll have my medical records sent to your office and the press in the next hour."
"Don't...You win, okay? I'll meet with Stans, listen to their grievances."
"Put that in a contract in front of a witness, and you'll have my resignation."
"You don't-"
"I want to. I don't want to spend the rest of my life in politics."
"What will you do?"
She smiled into the phone. "I'll think of something."
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"It's strange not seeing you near a fountain."
Laura looked up from the book she was reading. It served to distract her from the IV drip. "Hello, Naylin. What are you doing here?"
He entered the room, sitting in the chair next to her bed. "Thought you could use some company. Billy told me where you were."
She smiled. "He's a good kid."
"Yes, he is." He sighed. "Is it true you're resigning?"
She nodded. "I've wanted to for years. Now that I know the strike's over, I can rest knowing my last actions in office were effective."
"Thank you."
"It was my job. Thank you for reminding me to do it."
"Do you know your replacement?"
She smiled. "Wallace Grey. He's a good man, Naylin. He'll work with you."
"If Adar allows it, you mean?"
"I don't think Adar's gonna be a problem anymore."
He smiled. "I think you're right." He took her hand, squeezing it. "I wish I'd be working with you, though."
"Hmm. Maybe you can read to me, instead." She handed him the book, Murder on Picon, hoping she'd live to read the whole series of 12 with him.
He opened it up and started with page one. "Is it okay if I start over?"
"That's fine, Naylin." She lay back against her pillows, closing her eyes, as the detective's world washed over her.
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"Remember to do your homework, everyone."
"Yay!"
Laura smiled. It was such a joy to be surrounded by children again. They left her classroom, rushing to their busses to go home. She sat at her desk, glancing at the picture of her with Billy. She hadn't seen him in a few months. She resolved to call him that afternoon.
She gathered her papers, shut the lights, and left the room for the day.
When she got home, Naylin was there making dinner. "You're home early."
"One of the benefits of being the boss. How was school?"
"You know how wonderful it is for children to be glad about getting homework?"
"Only in your classroom, I'm sure. I've been in a lot of classrooms, and I haven't heard that."
She wrapped her arms around him. "Maybe I have the magic touch."
He turned around and kissed her. "I know you do."
