Authors Note
Ok, here's my next story. It's a one-shot and is called "Pandora's Box"
Spoilers slightly for throughout all the seasons, but main reference to season 1 "water".
Set after season 3.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.
President Laura Roslin paced uncomfortably around the area on Colonial One. She was sifting through the many pieces of paper that littered her desk, arranging them in an order for later use. It was a tedious process, but she needed to do it. Tory had somehow managed to arrange a free hour before her next meeting, and instead of relaxing at her desk, she found herself crushed underneath mountains of files and folders. Her aide suggested a sorting of files to keep the area organised and neat, after finding the President in her chair with paper carelessly strewn around her.
After many negotiations and muttering dark thoughts, Laura found herself on her own, without her aide's help, moving stacks of folders around the small space she called her 'office'. The task was time consuming and quite animated, and so she did not see that the Admiral had entered the room.
Adama stopped to regard the scene before him, savouring it for later reference. The President was frowning, her glasses askew, and her arms filled with toppling files. As she walked slowly, the folders seemed to slip out of her grasp, and fall to the floor. Suddenly, all the files cascaded out of her arms, and paper fluttered around the room.
Adama cleared his throat, figuring that now would be the best time to indicate his presence, as he wanted Laura Roslin no madder than she was right now. Perching her glasses back on her nose, she looked towards him surprised.
"Admiral," She greeted him, grasping his hand in a firm shake. She held on for longer than necessary but proceeded to enquire formally as to why he was there.
"Did we have meeting?" She asked, turning her back on him and moving towards her desk. She cautiously stepped around the clutter on the floor, and leant against her desk, "I do apologise, my schedule is probably in here … somewhere …"
She indicated the mess around her. Files and folders haphazardly thrown around. Bill smiled softly, and bent down to pick some paper off the floor. It was then that Laura realised he was carrying something under his left arm.
"Don't worry about the paper," She instructed him, crossing her arms, "I'll handle that another time. Is there something important you have come here to tell me Admiral? Because I have a meeting in about fifteen minutes and I can't be late."
"Nothing important," He replied evasively, looking towards what was securely tucked under his arm, "just wanted to give you this."
Laura smiled widely, anticipating what he was about to hand over. He moved slowly through the paper, making sure not to tread on fuel reports and food notices. Slowly he handed a small box. It was simple yet elegant. Etched into it was an image of a woman and man, and a jar in between them. Taking hold of it gently, Laura looked up at Bill questioningly.
"It's meant to symbolise Pandora's Box," He explained, pointing towards the carvings, "or Jar as it was. I was sorting out my quarters yesterday and I found it hidden underneath some books. Usually I'd have given it to a crew member or kept it in storage, but I thought you'd have better use for it."
"Oh?" Laura's eyebrows rose in confusion, "I appreciate the gesture Admiral, I really do, but why would I have a better use for it than another person?"
"Well," Bill said slowly, moving closer to Laura. He then did something that Laura never would have expected. It took her by surprise when he gently removed her jacket from the chair next to her. Confusion rose up within her, and she regarded him closely, looking for signs of what he was up to.
Bill placed his hand in the pocket of her jacket and pulled out some paper. There were many little slips, each with words tidily scrawled on them. He placed them back in her jacket pocket slowly, and moved towards his own pocket in his uniform. Laura watched entranced, wondering how he knew about those little notes. He pulled out a small piece of lined paper, yellowed slightly with age. Pinching the bridge of his nose unconsciously, he handed her the slip of paper.
Laura took it with steady hands, wondering what was written on it. As she turned it over in her hands, she realised it was her own writing. It read;
Olympic Carrier.
"It fell out of your pocket last meeting we had in my quarters," Bill explained, his hands clasped firmly in front of him. He regarded Laura's realisation with amusement. Laura smiled to herself, cursing Bill for being so perceptive, "and I thought that, if you have as many regrets as me, then you'd need more than a pocket to hold them."
"I see," Laura smiled, her words barely audible. She continued to regard the piece of paper in her hands. The memory of that moment flooded her, and she found her smile disappearing as she continued to stare down at the small printed name of the ship. Suddenly, she opened the box held on her lap, and placed the piece of paper within it. Laura then quickly moved over to her jacket and pulled all the small pieces of paper out, and placed them in the box, one at a time, reading them out as she did so. Bill seemed transfixed by the strange ritual.
"Ordering the destruction of the Olympic carrier, being the cause of a military coup, making Baltar my vice president, losing Elosha, losing Billy, settling on New Caprica, keeping Hera from her parents …"
She continued on, placing each individual piece of paper within the box. Finally when she had finished, she closed the box, snapping the lid shut. She closed her eyes, and breathed in slowly.
"It's very therapeutic you know." She said, looking at him through half-closed eyelids. Bill smiled and his eyes shone with amusement, "you should try it."
"I have one myself," He assured her, moving slightly closer to her, "but it's a much bigger box."
"I don't doubt that, you've been in the job longer than me," She said softly, resting on the edge of her desk. Bill slowly brought his hand to his own pocket again, and pulled out a small piece of paper. It looked in fairly good condition. His eyes flickered over the piece, recognising what was written, and he smiled.
"You missed one," He murmured, holding it out for the President to take. She accepted the piece gracefully and held it in her hand. Bill suddenly straightened up, and cleared his throat.
"Well Madame President, I'd hate to make you late for your next meeting. Call me if anything comes up."
With that he slowly moved towards the curtain separating Laura's space from the rest of the ship. He stopped before he reached it, and turned back towards the President. She was looking out of the window to her left, at the rest of the fleet as they floated by. His sudden stop caught her attention, and she turned her attention towards him.
He smiled warmly at her, and she returned the smile, her eyes alight with affection.
"Have a good night Laura," He gently instructed.
"You too Bill," She replied softly.
With that, he left the area. A cold chill swept in through the curtain where he just left, and she hugged herself, still leaning against the desk. She then realised that the cold chill always entered when Bill leaves, and it wasn't going to change anytime soon. She sighed and stood up, getting ready to continue her moving of papers. Something rough demanded attention in her hand. Opening her hand, she saw a small piece of paper curled in her palm. Realisation dawned on her. It was the piece that Bill had given her, from his own pocket.
She opened the piece of paper, and read it slowly, savouring his neat handwriting. Her smile widened as she read it, and she placed it neatly in her new box. Humming to herself, she carried on moving the folders, but this time with renewed energy and a smile on her lips.
Tory entered the area, searching for the President. She was going to be late for her meeting if she didn't hurry, and Tory didn't want it to be her fault for not reminding Roslin.
Laura was on the other side of the room, neatly stacking some paper. She seemed happier than before, Tory realised, and this confused the aide greatly. They had a big argument over who was going to tidy the files, and Tory had won through sheer stubbornness. Tory's eyes were drawn to a small box on the President's table. That's new, she realised, moving towards it. She quietly opened the box, so as not to attract Roslin's attention. Opening the lid, Tory pulled out the first bit of paper in there, to see what it was about. She read the piece, but noticed that it wasn't the President's handwriting. The message itself was confusing, and Tory gave up trying to decipher it, moving towards the president to offer help. She left the piece of paper on top of the box, reading;
Not building that cabin with you on New Caprica.