Conference Room - present day.
"I think you can handle this alone -- if you can stomach it."
He still heard the bitter words even though the resounding clang of the hatch signalled the departure of the woman who had spoken them. His heart beat pounded in his chest and his throat went dry. He had failed. How many times would he have to save that woman's life before she acknowledged him? If he could not reach out to her then there would be no salvation for Gaius Baltar.
He had watched Laura Roslin carefully from the moment he and the Cylons had entered the dimly lit room. Her composure had seemed perfect but he never missed the details. Her body had been stiff and although her hands had appeared calmly folded in front of her, her knuckles were white. If he had seen her anxiety, then so had the Cylons.
"Laura ... if I ... it's good to see you."If only she had been able to look at him. Then he could have expressed his relief at seeing his own people again, his sincere regret over what had happened to them on New Caprica and … over what he had done to her. Adama had been in his face almost immediately. The Admiral had put his body between Laura and her nightmare. So maybe Adama knew. Baltar quietly envied the man his stubborn strength.
If only he had had that kind of strength those long months ago.
New Caprica11 months before the Occupation.
Laura sat alone in a small clearing at the edge of the river. The water gurgled over a shallow grouping of rocks as it slipped down toward the lake in the distance. A light breeze stirred strands of her auburn hair as she gazed out over the mist covered river.
It was late spring. The air was thick with the scent of rain and water soaked vegetation. The bird calls were loud and erratic and insects hissed and chirped from the tall grass that surrounded her. An ant crawled over the skin of her dew drenched bare foot.
She pulled the oversized wool coat tightly around her shoulders and inhaled the faint musky scent that was Bill Adama. She smiled gently as she remembered his pushing the coat into her hands on Galactica. Technically, it was a part of his uniform and intended for formal outdoor events. He had said that he had no use for it on Galactica and that if he needed it on New Caprica, well, it would already be there. The emotion of that last goodbye still weighed heavily on her heart. Her decision to settle was the right one but it still felt like she had left her life behind.
It was ungodly early; the landscape had been nothing but shadow when she'd slipped from her tent. Since her remission, sleep had seemed such a waste of the time she had been given.
She had come to the riverbank every morning for the last week and had each time had been disappointed. The cloud cover had always been total.
But not today.
Today she could see what to her mind's eye was a three foot high band of open sky just above the horizon but below the ever present blanket of grey cloud. As morning approached, the sky brightened and shifted colour from soft pink to a warm gold. Her breath caught when the edge of the horizon was kissed by the faintest line of bright yellow orange light.
She heard the thump, thump of jogging feet behind her. She smiled. "Don't you ever sleep, Thrace?"
The feet came up beside her and she felt their gentle rhythm through the ground as Kara jogged in place. "How'd you know it was me?" She asked between breaths.
Laura didn't look at Kara; her attention was consumed by her first sunrise in almost a year. It was made more precious by the fact that she should not have been alive to see it.
"I'm a teacher," she said at last. "We have eyes in the back of our heads."
Kara snickered. "Right." She was silent then and made no move to continue her run. Kara didn't strike Laura as the type that stopped to watch anything just because it was beautiful. Yet, she enjoyed the girl's company and they shared the brief touch of the sun's warmth before it passed into the cloud cover.
"Wow," was all Kara said.
Laura smiled and finally brought her gaze to Kara's face.
"I could get used to this." Kara said lightly. "Have a good day, ma'am."
"You too, Captain."
And she was gone.
Colonial One20 minutes before the New Caprica Ground Breaking Ceremony
"Be careful with that!" President Gaius Baltar followed the progress of his newly requisitioned and custom made bed with great interest. The men who carried it were large and sweaty and they left an odorous trail towards Baltar's private quarters. There was an obnoxious scraping noise as they struggled to fit the bed through the oddly shaped door frame.
"Mr. President?" The voice came from somewhere in front of him. He didn't turn.
"Careful!" Baltar shook his head in disgust. "What does it say about us when even the President of the Colonies can't get decent help?" He turned back towards the small grouping of ministers that had gathered around his desk and sighed. "Yes, look, I have an inspiring speech to deliver in twenty minutes. Can we move this along?" He winced as he heard his bed hit the floor with a resounding thunk and couldn't resist another glance over his shoulder.
Felix Gaeta cleared his throat. "Environment Minister Salis," he added the title for Baltar's benefit, "I believe we left off with you."
"Yes, thank you." Salis coughed nervously and adjusted his glasses. "We have been coordinating with Galactica to schedule a mining survey to take place next month." Thin and athletic, Salis looked as if he would be far more comfortable coaching a Pyramid team. "We just need final approval."
They're going to get it wrong. I know it. I specifically requested a firm mattress. I have no intention of near suffocating while I sleep nor do I want anyone getting too comfortable. Was that something about a mining survey? Yes. Fine. "Put it on the agenda for tomorrow's Quorum meeting, Mister Gaeta."
"Yes, sir."
I'd better practice that frakking speech.Gaeta and the ministers were talking over each other. Baltar gave them the same level of attention that a large animal gives to the flies on its back.
I can't believe I actually miss the Cylon. If she truly is a projection of my subconscious I suppose it's too much to ask for some measure of control over her.
Who knew being important could be so damned boring?
Today, we pledge to rebuild our civilization after such a tragic and unforgettable loss. We cannot abandon our past and we will no longer run from what lies ahead. We will not live in fear. We will seize our future in a firm and resolute grip and build it here together. This is our new home.Maybe Laura Roslin actually likes boring.
Then I break ground. I must remind Mister Gaeta to have the shovel ready. Nothing would be more embarrassing than not having the bloody shovel. Okay … round of adoring applause then … Thank you. Let this day be remembered … maybe long remembered? … as the day we broke ground for our new tomorrow. Sensational.
Now … what I could really use is a good fr--.
The room had gone silent. All eyes turned to Baltar and he realised that he must have said that last bit out loud. "Free drink," he finished quickly. He tried a small self deprecating laugh and shook his head. "I could … ah … really use a free drink is what I meant. Really. We can continue this stimulating discussion tomorrow. I am keeping people from an open bar."He managed a forced smile as everyone filed out and went to check on his new bed.
New Caprica Ground Breaking Ceremony8 months before the Occupation
Bill Adama sat in the sand. The wind blew the tiny grains across his bare feet and he dug into it with his hand. It was warm in his clenched fist and he watched as it slipped slowly from his grip and into the wind.
He felt rather than saw her as she sat beside him.
She was talking to him, simple pleasantries and mild taunts, but he was focused on the tone and pitch of her voice. There was a softness to her speech, there beneath the warm alto that could so easily command as seduce. It resonated in that place that he had long kept guarded from Laura Roslin, the woman that he could not, dared not, have.
Her eyes were a pale green in the sunlight and her cheeks were ruddy and flushed. She smiled easily and often.
He had felt the heat of her body even before she placed a hand on his arm. He responded to her banter automatically, even corrected her, but he never paused in his exploration of this woman who had been President.
The deep red of her dress was striking against her pale skin and he found himself openly appreciating the soft curve of her left breast and the inviting shadow where it met her right. Even as he complimented her dress, he imagined the soft weight of her breasts in his hands.
His head snapped up when she pulled the wrap around her shoulders and he racked his brain for the reason why he was responding so intensely to her. The planet. Open air. Sunlight. The lack of her well tailored business suit and professional demeanour. They were all small parts of the answer and yet they paled before two simple observations.
He realised that he had never known Laura Roslin when she hadn't been in pain. Whether it was the invisible weight of an entire civilization pressed down on her shoulders or the raw physical agony that had been her cancer, pain had hung in her voice, had dampened her movements and hardened her features.
The woman beside him, whose face was bright with a slightly embarrassed smile, was truly free.
Everything that had ever been a barrier between them seemed to fall away with the loss of a single word: President. He felt blood begin to work its way down towards his groin and knew he had to distract himself. He watched people mill about, watched as Starbuck started the day frightfully early and studied his first blue sky in years. Anything to avoid her clear eyes and her open flirting. Yes, she was flirting and he adored it. He just wasn't sure he was ready for it.
Baltar gave a reasonably inspired speech. When it was over and the party started in earnest, Bill followed Laura about without much conscious thought. He wasn't sure but it felt like he was staking a claim. This vision in red? Yes. Mine.
Baltar stood and sipped a poorly made Caprican Sunset. He was elbow to elbow with his Minister of Public Security and a host of other government officials and body guards.
"Do you see that?" Jarek Markos said from beside him. The minister was more freight train than man. He had a wide face and thick jowls that reminded Baltar of those tough little dogs whose skin seemed overly generous for their faces. The simple effort of talking was enough to turn Markos' skin a bright shade of red.
Baltar ran his eyes over the frolicking crowds. Aside from some fetching women he would make an effort to get to know later, he didn't see what the man was referring to.
"What?" He asked finally.
Markos pointed a thick finger towards a quieter area near the tents. A woman was standing there, her back to him, in an incredible red dress. He knew who it was and he took his time. He ran his eyes over every dip and curve of her body. God … I never did have time to find out if you really are a redhead.
"The former President and the Admiral."
The Admiral? Where? Baltar glanced at Markos and then back to where Roslin stood.The Admiral was indeed beside her and he looked as stuffy and boring as always in his lumpy uniform.Roslin didn't seem to find him boring, in fact, the way she was smiling …
"I'd bet my next weeks rations that they're frakking." Markos' announcement made Baltar choke on this drink.
"Are you being serious?" He mopped at the wet stubble on his face. Adama is as out of shape as an over-washed sock. Roslin would never … hmm … I have a mind to take that bet. One look at Markos' widely spaced blue eyes confirmed that the man was indeed serious. "Well, we can't have that, can we?"
Baltar let his eyes continue to wander the crowd. Now there's a sight. Playa Palacios had joined in the folk dance.
"Someone should keep an eye on them. The last thing we want is interference from Roslin."
"Wonderful speech, Mister President" A brunette in a deliciously tight fitting flowered dress reached to shake Baltar's hand. He took her small hand in his and shook it gently and longer than necessary.
"Thank you. Can I get you a drink Miss --?" Baltar used his grip on her hand to draw the woman's arm over his own.
"Just Annie, please." She smiled widely.
"Just Annie, what a lovely name." She giggled then. What had Markos been saying? Right. "Well, Mister Markos, I do think you have the right idea. I leave the matter in your capable hands. Right now," he ran his hand over Annie's warm fingers. "I intend to celebrate like everyone else."
Markos was pleased. "As you wish, Mister President. Enjoy your day."
6 hours later.
"I've got people who want to get off the ship … move down here."
The settlement was dark but the party showed no signs of winding down. Laura lay with him atop a pile of heavy sandbags.
"Can't say as I blame them, I mean, what are you gonna do?"
He knew what he wanted to do. Even lulled by the weed and buzzing from the alcohol he was acutely aware of every place on his body that made contact with hers. His hand wandered over her back and traced lazy circles on the fabric that had lost its stunning red hue to the darkness.
There was only one other time he had felt this impulsive. Colonial One. His promotion. His chemical heavy brain refused to accurately remember how long ago. She had sat hunched and her hands had clenched repeatedly against her knee. He remembered his pride and a deep aching sadness. That day, as he had watched Billy Keikeya all but carry Laura to her quarters, he could not have imagined this future.
Laura shifted against him and stroked a warm hand over his chest.
He had never forgotten that first kiss. He could still feel the softness of her lips and the tremors that had run through her body. He had liked to think those tremors were caused by pleasure. He had known they were the result of pain.
Maybe it was this bittersweet memory or the effects of the alcohol that made him bold. At the moment, he didn't care. He felt for signs of resistance as he pulled her more fully onto him and sought her lips in the dark. She didn't hesitate. His hands buried themselves in the warmth under her hair. He followed the heat from her gasp and captured her mouth in a gentle yet open kiss. Her slight moan prompted his heart to abandon its regular rhythm.
All coherent thought slipped unhindered from his mind. Only sensation remained.
He savoured the feel of her lips, the soft press of her breasts against his chest and the light touch of her fingers where they slid through his hair. His back was cold and damp where it was pressed against the sandbags. The chill made him achingly aware of the heat that radiated from Laura's kiss, from the slightly rhythmic press of her body.
After several minutes of fervent exploration she settled back against his shoulder and he removed his hand from the soft fabric covering her breast. There was no need to rush things, no urgency in this new future. They simply held each other and fell asleep out on the sand.
Continued in part 2.