Authors Note
Well this idea just came to me about …. Half hour ago, no lie! So I tried my best putting my thoughts into words. Hope you like it!
Set after "Son also Rises" but before "CrossRoads part 1"
Spoilers: Season 3 spoilers, but only one spoiler. But its quite big, so … it would help if you'd have watched series 3.
Disclaimer : I do not own any of them. Nope. Not one. Ok?
Laura muttered to herself, pacing her small office space on Colonial One.
"And so…" She carried on, to herself, before tearing up the piece of card in her hands, and throwing the torn pieces outwards.
She took a deep breath, calming her nerves, and picked up another piece of card off of her desk. The ritual usually helped her, in both soothing her worries and helping remember what she was meant to say, and what emotions and expressions to reveal.
She was foremost a politician. She could not let emotions get in the way of her speeches, no matter how strongly she felt on the subject matter or audience. With that thought, she sighed and tore up the next card she held in her hands.
Tory entered through the curtain quickly, holding the President's schedule tightly in her hands.
"Ma'am?" She enquired, attracting Laura's attention.
"Yes Tory?" Laura asked serenely, but Tory could see her hand shaking slightly.
"The Admiral's here for your meeting."
"Thank you, Tory. That will be all."
Tory took her leave, pulling the curtain back and exiting professionally. She had never seen the President more nervous than that moment.
Laura quickly bent down, and scooped the torn pieces of cards into her hands. Where can they be hidden away?
Making a quick decision, she unceremoniously dumped them in her desk drawer, and seated herself in her favourite chair.
Admiral Adama slowly poked his head around the curtain.
"Madame President?"
Laura smiled. Always polite, always thoughtful, She thought, inwardly sighing, you don't deserve any of this.
"Admiral." She nodded, welcoming him in to her office space. He made his way over, and took her hand in his. His hands were strong and warm, encircling her own protectively. It was brief but powerful, and Laura felt emotions stirring around inside of her.
Seating himself opposite, he kept his thoughts amused by looking around her quarters. Separated from the rest of the ship by just a curtain, it was hardly a presidential residence. She had no time to sort herself out an office, as all the burdens, the title was pushed onto her shoulders unwillingly. Poor Laura, he thought morosely.
Turning his attention to her desk (the only indication that she had some sort of power), he saw files and folders haphazardly tossed on top of each other, with her glasses precariously perched on top, waiting to fall over. There was also a pile of large cards, however, neatly stacked on the edge of the desk.
"Another big speech due, Madame President?" He asked, grinning slightly, remembering her before the presidential election.
She looked nonplussed in the direction that he was staring, and he was bemused as he watched her face turn from mere confusion to shock. She quickly got up from her chair and picked up the cards.
"Yes," she replied quickly, looking flustered, and holding the cards close to her chest, "Quorum meeting in a few hours. So many topics I need to cover, so little time to remember them."
With that, she placed the cards in the filing cabinet beside her, and sat back down, looking stricken.
"Well let's hope you don't start laughing again." He stated dryly, trying to lighten the mood a bit, as he sensed her discomfort. It worked effectively as she laughed lightly, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Here's hoping." She replied softly, tucking her feet up underneath her.
Something was wrong with her, Bill decided, regarding her thoughtful expression as she looked out the window beside her. She wasn't going to tell him straight away, but he wished she would.
Haven't we gone past lies and deceit, Laura? He thought, staring at her, what are you hiding? It is important? Is it worth risking our relationship to hide?
He sighed deeply, and it caught her attention. She looked at him enquiringly, as if beseeching him to tell her what he was thinking. Forcing a smile, he asked clearly;
"Can I go place a quick call Madame President? I would like to check up on my XO."
Looking slightly disappointed, she said formally, "Of course Admiral. Just outside the curtain. Then I would like to talk to you, about a matter of importance."
Bill merely nodded, exiting the area quickly. Must be something about this Quorum meeting, he thought, that's what's getting her down.
Laura stood up and moved to the filing cabinet. After a few minutes of shuffling papers, she removed the cards she placed in there, and sat back down, regarding them.
"Bill," She murmured, reading off of her card, "It's back. The cancer," She choked on this word, feeling tears sting her eyes, but she carried on reading, regardless, "I will use the Diloxin treatment and …."
She came to a stop and just stared at the card. She tore it up slowly, and placed the pieces underneath her chair.
She needed to tell him, and now was the time, she realised. She spent the hours before preparing her speech, making sure she let no indication that she was bothered by the return of it.
It wasn't the pain that bothered her. No. She could handle that. It was Bill's reaction to it, that she was dreading. Just as their relationship was kicking off. It was a turbulent path, their relationship. Their time on New Caprica told her that it was beyond friendship now, but their duties kept them distanced.
And now this, She thought, looking down at her hands, Bill doesn't deserve this pain, this suffering. Best to tell him and see how he takes it.
Bill re-entered, looking slightly flustered. He smiled briefly at her, and sat back down, sitting on the edge of his seat, his knees gently touching her own.
"So what did you want to tell me Laura?" He asked softly. The use of her name caused tears to sting her eyes yet again, but she held them in place, smiling slightly.
The cards could not help her now. It was up to her. This is worse than the elections, she thought wryly, staring into his expectant face, I really wish I was somewhere else. Anywhere else, rather than here.
She quickly put on her presidential façade, and he took her hand in his own, the warmth seeping through her skin.
She was foremost a politician. She could not let emotions get in the way of her speeches, no matter how strongly she felt on the subject matter or audience.
With that thought, she gripped his hand tightly and spoke.