What Doesn't Kill You

He knew he'd seen her before…somewhere.

She seemed perfectly lovely: well-dressed, well-mannered, and from the soft smiles she was casting in Bill's direction and way her hand kept finding his under the table, she was obviously very fond of his son. (Which made for a welcome change; the last woman Bill had brought home had been his ex-wife, Carolanne, whose disdain for him had practically dripped from her pores.)

Joseph kept up with politics, but he had to admit that when Bill had said his girlfriend's name was Laura Roslin, the name had sounded only vaguely familiar. (Who remembered the name of the Secretary of Education, anyway?)

But Joseph Adama had been a practicing attorney for nearly half a century, and in all that time, he had never once forgotten a client.

And the woman sitting across the table was definitely a former client.

If only Joseph could remember for what.

Over the course of his career, Joseph had defended thieves, gangsters, arsonists, and murderers. Of course, he'd also defended a number of people who were completely innocent…now, if only Joseph could remember which category Laura Roslin fell into…

"Dad?"

Bill was starting to get irritated, and Joseph couldn't exactly blame him. They'd never had the easiest relationship, and now Bill had brought this smart, sophisticated woman home for dinner…and Joseph couldn't follow a word she was saying.

Because he was too busy trying to remember if the words "Laura Roslin" and "string of unsolved murders" belonged together.

Joseph tried to rid himself of the image of the blood-soaked murder weapon. "I'm sorry, were you saying something?"

Bill cleared his throat, and Joseph looked across the table and into a glare so menacing, he actually flinched.

Joseph had once had a client pull a knife on him after he'd failed to have his charges thrown out.

Even holding the blade to Joseph's throat, he'd seemed friendlier than Bill did just now.

Laura smiled. "I was just saying how much I've enjoyed getting to know Zak and Lee," she said. "They're both such lovely young men, I feel so lucky to have them in my life."

Joseph had to hand it to her: there was no strain on her face, no tension in her voice; it was like she was at an entirely different dinner, one where the participants were actually happy to be there.

It was a typical quality in a politician, Joseph figured.

Or a sociopath.

"That's nice," Joseph managed.

"It is," Bill growled, staring him down.

Laura's smile didn't waver.

She would have made a great witness, Joseph mused…calm, well-spoken…had she been a witness, he wondered?

"Lee's doing so well in law school," Laura enthused, "and didn't Zak say he helped deliver a baby during his shift at the hospital the other day, Bill?"

This never would have happened if Evelyn were here. Bill's mother would have not only known what to say to Laura Roslin, but would have remembered exactly which case they knew the frakkin' woman from. But Evelyn was off-planet, on Tauron, dealing with a family emergency…and Joseph was left alone with their increasingly resentful son and his incredibly positive, possibly homicidal date.

"Dad?" Bill rumbled.

It wasn't going to matter what Laura Roslin had done, Joseph realized; the meal was going to end in bloodshed regardless, because Bill was going to stab him to death with his salad fork.

…what if she'd stabbed someone, though? What if she and Bill walked out of this dinner, and went home, and Bill wound up with a blade stuck between his ribs?

"Dad!"

Joseph wrenched his mind away from the image of Bill surrounded by a pool of his own blood, Laura standing over him, a knife in her hand and that same placid expression on her face.

"I'm sorry, my mind drifted off," Joseph mumbled….and then a thought struck him. Surely, as his mother-in-law used to say, there was more than one way to skin a cat.

"I was thinking about a story I read in the paper this morning," Joseph invented. "This woman just woke up one morning and shot her husband in the head."

Laura's delicate eyebrows lifted, just slightly.

Bill choked on his wine. "That's what you were thinking about?" he croaked, hacking into his hand.

"I read another story," Joseph pressed on, determined to get a reaction from Laura before Bill caught his breath. "This woman would marry a man, poison him, inherit all his money…and then change her name and start over with a new man. She did it six times before they caught her."

Laura raised her glass to her lips and, her expression unchanging, drained her wine in one gulp.

Bill's face flushed, then went white. "Is there something you'd like to say to me?" he asked, his voice very quiet.

"Bill…" Laura began.

"I'm not going to sit here and let you insult my fiancée with this bizarre tirade—" Bill thundered.

Joseph didn't hear anything after 'fiancée.'

"Fiancée?" he echoed faintly. "You're getting married?"

Bill was saying something—from the way his jaw was clenched, probably not something complimentary—but Joseph couldn't hear it over the blood pounding in his ears.

Bill pushed back his chair—Joseph couldn't let him leave—not like this—not with that woman—

"What did you do?" he demanded, looking Laura straight in the eye.

Laura paused over her wine glass. "Excuse me?"

"Don't even bother to deny it," Joseph warned her. "I know you were a client of mine, I know you were arrested for something, I just can't remember for what—"

"Have you gone senile?" Bill demanded, still standing behind Laura's chair.

Joseph ignored him, his eyes locked on Laura's. "Just tell me what you did."

From the utter befuddlement on her face, she was either a truly terrific actress, or she genuinely didn't know what he was talking about.

Oh, Gods, Joseph thought...what if she'd been arrested so many times that the memory didn't even stand out to her any more?

"I beg your pardon?" Laura queried, still sitting, her voice scrupulously polite, her russet eyebrows raised practically to her hairline.

"I never forget a client," Joseph insisted. "You were one of mine, I know it-"

Bill had found his voice. "It's bad enough that you have to be rude to the woman I love," he began, "but to invent this ridiculous story-"

"Oh my Gods," Laura interrupted, her hand going to her mouth. "I was arrested once, I'd forgotten-"

Joseph aimed a triumphant look at his son. "I knew it."

Bill ignored him altogether, his hands coming to rest on Laura's shoulders. "Laura?" he prompted gently.

She tilted her head up, giving Bill an amused smile. "It wasn't like that," she said. "It was in college, and there was a protest...the Sagittaron liberation riots, remember?"

"A protest?" Joseph echoed, relief washing over him. A disturbing the peace charge was definitely better than murder, he figured...

"I was on my way back from the library, and I got caught up in the crowd," she explained. "The police came, and I spent six hours in a cell before I could convince anyone that I hadn't even been at the protest."

"So you actually were a client of his?" Bill asked, dumbfounded.

Laura shrugged, looking across the table at Joseph. "I never had to go to trial, but if you were called while I was still in jail..." She snorted. "So you spent all of dinner thinking I was a murderer?"

"Well..." Joseph tried to put it politely. "Or an embezzler?"

Even Bill cracked a smile.

"I have to say, I'm a little relieved," Laura said, as Bill, with a nod from her, sat back down. "I thought you were just really upset about my educational policies."

"Couldn't name a single one," Joseph said cheerfully..."that I'd object to," he added quickly, at a dark look from his son.

Laura's lips quirked.

"So...wedding plans?" Joseph prompted desperately.

The rest of dinner passed without incident: Bill held Laura's hand on top of the table (although if he was hoping to communicate that he sided with his fiancée over his father, Joseph could only say message received), Laura made polite conversation about the upcoming wedding, and Joseph responded to every word out of her mouth with warmth and delight. By the time Bill went to gather his and Laura's coats, Joseph could almost pretend the first half of the meal hadn't happened.

Almost.

He leaned across the table. "I take it my wedding invitation's going to be lost in the mail," he said quickly, while Bill was out of the room. "But if Evelyn isn't allowed to come-"

Laura's slow smile caught him off guard, and it occurred to him, belatedly, that just because this woman wasn't a murderer didn't mean she was someone to frak with. "Don't be ridiculous," she informed him, her voice lilting, a dangerous glint in her green eyes. "Of course you're coming. You only have the rest of your life to make this up to me. I think you should get started right away."

"Laura?" Bill called from the hallway. "You ready?"

Joseph followed mutely behind, watching, bemused, as his son helped this woman into her coat. "Anything wrong?" he heard Bill whisper in her ear.

"Nothing at all," Laura assured him. She cast a bright smile over her shoulder at Joseph and wound her arm through Bill's. "I was just telling your father I already own a blender."

As the door clicked shut behind them, Joseph sank down onto the stairs, rubbing his temples.

He just needed a minute, he told himself. Just a minute, and then he'd go into the kitchen and start brewing a pot of coffee...the one he'd need to start looking into the educational policies he had a strong sense he would soon be talking up all over Caprica.

Maybe a serial killer would have been easier to deal with, after all.