Disclaimer: Laura Roslin has a summer house in my head. She feels comfy here. Go Mary for owning her.
Ficlet inspired by an entry/thread back on LiveJournal. Pairing: Roslin/Adar (though no smut). Please don't sue me if you didn't know that Laura & Adar were an item - although I smelled the rat in the mini series already it wasn't my idea and happened a loooong time ago. ;o) Setting: AU mini series.
Summary: An attempt to explore Laura's immediate path after her return to Caprica (had the colonies not been nuked).


Remember Who I Am

Laura smiled when the driver dropped her off at the gate. Twenty cubees for a cab - it was worth getting home unnoticed.
When she opened the door, everything was the way she had left it. Her morning paper on the couch, a week old now or only days - she had lost track of time. Her smile was faint, the familiar smell of her house reassuring. She was tired. She was lonely. It felt good to be back.

Setting down her bags, Laura allowed the door to fall shut behind her and closed her eyes along with it. She welcomed the silence. Her migraine-stricken head came to rest after all.

Walking away from the door after seconds or maybe minutes, she left her bags untouched, blocking the door. She couldn't have cared less. Tumbling towards the couch, Laura wiped off the paper with a brush of her hand and gave in to a sudden wave of sleepiness. Lying down, it was as if she lost control over everything around her. She giggled. Too tired to even go over the past few days now, too jet-lagged to think, too numb, it was pointless to sift through all the pictures in her head. Darkness, faces, laughter, pain - Laura felt dizzy. She felt lost. It was her alone in a room without windows or doors. She felt trapped. She felt haunted by a presence that wasn't there.

She jumped.

It was an hour later. A full hour she had slept - now fully worn out.

It was another hour that passed and Laura drifted in and out of sleep. A blanket around her feet gave her warmth. It was his voice that startled her. His voice so distant on her machine. Did the phone even ring? She was unsure.
When she woke again she heard the ring - hammering her awake. The throbbing blood in her head made her feel like an ambos. His voice was calm and controlled. He knew she was back. She was relieved. She was also annoyed. She didn't want to see him.

The third call came late at night. Her aide. Boy got nerve, Laura frowned. She felt guilty right away.

It was a shower the next day that gave her strength enough to face the light outside. Her head was better, her body ached - she wasn't hungry for anything. When she slipped into her heels and grabbed her jacket, Laura avoided an all to close look in the mirror. Gulping down her meds with some tea, she waited for the Chamalla to kick in before she walked the few blocks to her office. She didn't really feel like going inside and checked her messages after a short moment of relief. Her name was still on the office door. She hadn't been erased just yet.

It took her a minute to skim through all the notes on her aide's front desk until she found it. His handwriting. Please come to see me. No time. No place. Richard. She tossed it in her pocket and left.

It took her twice as long to get to his office. The detour she took was both unnecessary and essential.
When she finally arrived to greet his secretary, she half expected to find boxes with her stuff on a table by the door. The door was open, she was let in. The door was shut behind her. Everything discreet. Business as usual.

The lights were blinding her the way they sometimes did on sunny days like this. She blinked.

"Laura." His voice was controlled in his concern. She nodded. "How was your trip."

"Okay." She walked closer to his desk and took a seat.

"We need to talk." And there it was: silence.

The look in his eyes was hard to read - uneasiness, pride. The kind of mix he was unable to hide. At least from her.

"What do you want me to say, Richard?" Her voice was calm when it cut through the discomfort in the room. It was as if she had never left.

"I cannot keep you on. Not like this." His desk gave him shelter.

"Do you really think I will take this lying down?" Laura's eyes made it impossible for him to look away.

"All I am expecting you to do is to step aside to resume your work in another capacity." He tried to fake a smile. "We really need your ideas. I'm just trying to do what's best for this administration."

Laura chuckled. "What's best for this administration? When was the last time you worried about the members of your precious administration? All you are concerned about right now is your legacy. That's all there is. Your legacy. What you will be remembered for."

She got up. "I'm not sure how firing your Secretary of Education for settling a strike that could very well have escalated fits in there - but maybe you're following your own logic. Like you always do when you're stuck."

"This has nothing to do with the legacy of my work, Laura." Richard looked up at her with stony eyes.

"Your work, there you have it! This isn't about you, Richard. This strike had nothing to do with you! Are you really too stubborn to get it? This strike was about our children, about their teachers, about their work. About our future!"

"Oh c'mon, Laura. Even you are not buying into that crap. Our children, our future. They wanted to be heard, I am fine with that. But they chained themselves to buildings, they used our children for their cause. They were willing to fire first. So don't blame me for going up against them!"

"They agreed to sit down and talk." Laura walked away from his desk to calm her anger. "That's the kind of sign you didn't want? That's giving them a sign of weakness, to agree to meet with them? How is that weak, Richard, tell me that? How is it better to send in troops of armed people to deal with teachers? How?" Her voice was upset.

"I'm not talking to you like this." Richard walked around his desk to meet her halfway to the door.

"Oh yes you are because I am not going to step down from anything." Laura closed the gap between them. "Don't you remember when we wanted to make a difference. When you told me about all your noble plans to improve working conditions in Caprica City? Don't you remember where you came from? You and me, all of us? All of us before the corruption and the accusations and the... the lies!" Laura sought his eyes. "Don't you have any of that left in you? Don't you have any of the passion left in you to fight for the things that could actually make a difference?"

Reaching out to her, Richard pulled her close. "You've been in the room with me, sat by my side in endless discussions with the Quorum of Twelve. You know how it works, Laura. I have six months left to serve. Don't ask me to do the right thing. You know that's a luxury."

Laura shook her head.

"I can't believe what you're saying. Is there anything left for you to believe in because clearly you don't have faith in me either." She tried to walk away from him. He held her close.

"I believe in what we have, Laura." His fingers brushed her collar bone and jaw.

"And what is that?" She closed her eyes and wished him away. She hated how he made her feel - so deeply torn and fragile.

He kissed her - his lips so careful when they touched her skin. His tongue eager to dance with hers the way he had once been willing to dance with her on political grounds.

Laura nodded to herself. No answer. He simply didn't have an answer. And once again she knew she had to get away from it all. Maybe tomorrow she would. Maybe tomorrow she could. Maybe tomorrow she would be able to say no to him. Maybe tomorrow she would let him know.

When his note arrived the next day she knew she would stay. Again. Case closed. Deal off. You're on. His kind of apology. She hated how he always got his way like this. She preferred to have it her way.

Resting behind her desk, Laura tried to smile when her aide walked up to her, Chamalla in hand. "Did you tell him?"

"Not just yet."