Disclaimer: BSG (2003) and all its characters involved are property of Ron D. Moore. I merely borrowed his play things to play a bit in his sandbox…

Enjoy, C! xxx

Laura stared at the lounge's kitchen unit. They had just brought in a freshly brewed pot of coffee, the smell was delicious. The woman who had showed her in - what was her name again, Ella? No, Elsa… something like that – had told her to make herself comfortable and help herself to any refreshments she needed. Headmaster Adar was still in a meeting, but he'd be with her as soon as possible. Another wave of coffee drifted over to the settee she had settled down on. A glance at the clock, located above the door, told her she had only been waiting for a minute. If the woman had been right, Richard wouldn't be out within the next five minutes. Making up her mind, Laura got up and strolled over to the unit, opening cupboards until she found coffee cups. There were countless of different cups and she chose one decorated with an old ship. It somehow appealed to her.

"That's mine." A deep, rough voice startled her. She almost dropped the cup, but was able the compose herself. Turning around, Laura discovered the voice belonged to an even rougher-looking man. He appeared to be slightly older than her, his hair was black with the occasional grey stray showing and it was pulled back into a ponytail. His attire was very neat, he wore black trousers and a dark blue shirt covered with a black waistcoat. The most prominent and catching part of him was his face though. It was covered in scars, Laura suspected they were the remains of a nasty acne in his youth, and his features were interestingly asymmetric and yet, he had the most beautiful pair of blue eyes Laura had ever seen.

"Sorry, but that's my cup you're holding." He repeated himself, though trying to sound more polite than before. Laura collected her thoughts and offered him his cup. "I'm sorry." she said, then added "I didn't know."

"Don't worry. You're the new one aren't you?"

It was a normal question; however, she found it difficult to figure out whether it was sincere small talk or whether he just felt obliged to say something. "Yes, I'm Laura Roslin." She said, trying to sound passive. The man nodded, but still showed no signs of interest. Laura turned back to the cupboard trying to decide which cup she would use instead. She hated to admit it, but that man made her edgy. It took her a lot of effort not to simply leave the room. Just as she was about to take another cup, he spoke again. "That one belongs to Jack." She rolled her eyes.

"Maybe you could just point out which cups do not have an owner yet."

Instead of replying, the man bent down, opened another cupboard and pulled out a white mug. He simply placed it in front of Laura and then went back to sipping his coffee.

Laura stared at the mug for a few seconds, then decided two could play this game. Without one word of gratitude, she took it and filled it with coffee, milk and sugar. The first sip of the now semi-hot liquid was bliss. It surely wasn't the best brand of coffee she had ever tasted, but at this moment it was just the relief she needed. Closing her eyes, she hummed.

"Literature department?"

"Yes." It was difficult to retain a polite tone through clenched teeth.

"You're American." Somehow she could detect scepticism in his voice. Laura sniffed.

"How well observed. Doesn't mean I'm unable to read and teach literature though."

They stared at each other for a moment. Neither blinking. Then, to her surprise, the stranger raised his eyebrows and chuckled. He bowed his head. "You're right of course."

Her reply was a triumphant hum. "Thank you, Mr. ?"

"Adama, Bill Adama." He offered her his hand now. "I work for the history department."

She nodded in acknowledgement.

"So this is your first day?" It seemed she had mastered and passed his strange trial, for now his tone of voice was much more inviting.

"Yes. No. I'm only here to meet Mr. Adar and get to be shown around. He's still in a meeting though, one of the other teachers welcomed me and led me in here, a E… -"

"Elsie?" He offered. Laura instantly nodded. "Yes, her. It was a bit difficult to remember. Her accent, is that the local accent?"

Bill chuckled again. "No, she's Scottish. You'll recognise the Yorkshire accent when you hear it, though barely any of the pupils speak it. Only the older generations; was a quite a challenge getting used to it when we moved up here."

"Oh, so you're not 'native' either?" She asked.

"Not exactly. I'm from London. Moved up here when I got the job offer a couple of years ago."

Another hum, but this time it was warm and inviting.

"Which part of the States are you from?"

"Los Angeles." she replied. She dreaded questions about her home, about her past.

"What brought you here?" Good. That way she could luckily avoid talking about her former life.

"Richard. Um, Mr. Adar, I mean. We are old friends, he was an exchange student at my university ages ago." To Laura's surprise Bill didn't seem to find these news a cause to smile like she did.

"I see." He simply said.

She was glad that in that very moment Richard and another man entered the room. She wasn't sure why, but the lack of interest and joy in her connection with Richard suddenly hurt her.

"Laura!" Richard greeted her in a tight hug. "How are you?"

"Fine. I'm fine. It's good to see you Richard, thank you for this opportunity." Her gratitude was sincere, her smile wasn't though. Laura still hadn't learned how to react to being questioned after her wellbeing, even if it was only meant as a polite inquiry.

Richard seemed satisfied. "Good. We're glad to have you here." He then turned around, inviting with a gesture of his arm the other man to join their conversation. "This is Charles Carson. He's the head of the Literature department, he'll be showing you around in a second."

Mr. Carson shook hands with Laura. He was a tall man, with a very stern expression. However, once having exchanged a couple of words, Laura got the feeling that she shouldn't trust her first impression with this one. When their convoy left the lounge to move on to Richard's office, she also noted that Mr. Carson waved good-bye to Bill, whereas Richard simply seemed to ignore the other man. She hesitated, then turned around and nodded at him. Bill was leaning against a table, his coffee in his hand and his face fixed in a stone-like passive expression. But nonetheless he nodded to her as well.