Aside from fun fluffy A/R romance, I also wanted to use this story to explain what Bill meant by "other times" in A Day in the Life, and why Roslin hates Baltar on such a personal level. Hope you like!

Disclaimer: By the way, I don't own 'em...

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Despite the drizzling rain tapping softly on the roof of green fabric, the breeze blowing just outside Laura's tent was pleasa

Despite the drizzling rain tapping softly on the roof of green fabric, the breeze blowing just outside Laura's tent was pleasantly warm. Laura sat at the wobbly desk inside her makeshift home, grading papers from last week's homework assignment. The fleet had been on New Caprica for nearly three months and only last week had Laura finally managed to implement some sort of stable routine for her students.

The breeze made its way inside her tent, stirring some of the papers and bring with it the sent of pine and wet muddy ground. Laura set her pen down and took off her glasses. With eyes closed she inhaled the fresh air and felt a pang of deep gratitude at the escape from the four walls of Colonial One. The joy was short lived, as mind wandered to the ship she once called home and the new resident who defiled her once scared office.

There were a number of unusual things that came along with settlement on New Caprica, and most where still a bit of a shock for Laura even with two months time to grow accustom. First, there was the smell of fresh air, looking up into the sky and seeing clouds or stars, the gratitude she hated herself for feeling because the planet gave her a chance at a new life. The joy she found in grading papers and hanging up the mantle of leader was matched equally by the guilt and anger she felt in having to do so.

The flap of her tent flew open without preamble and Ellen Tigh marched in as if she owned Laura's particular plot of barren living space.

"You will never believe what just happened. I was in the market and I overheard Tyrol talking to Felix Gaeta. It seems the President has decided to channel all resources into rebuilding our cities instead of getting some decent food production underway. You were right! The idiot is trying to walk before he can crawl. Of course, that glorified farmer whats-her-name is throwing a fit."

If Ellen noticed she had interrupted Laura's train of thought she paid no heed and blurted out her news with flair. This was the second thing Laura had a difficult time adjusting to. For some reason, Ellen Tigh had practically attached herself to Laura's ass.

Out of all the people in the fleet, except maybe Baltar, Ellen was the last person on the face of the planet Laura would have picked to befriend. Though Laura would hardly call them friends now, for whatever reason, Ellen had singled out Laura and these abrupt and unwelcome intrusions had become common place.

"Living in his ivory tower has made him blind to what's happening out here," Laura replied. She picked up her pen and glasses and went back to grading the papers, hoping the action would shorten Ellen's stay. With typical impertinence Ellen poured herself a glass of tea from the pot sitting on the kitchen table and made herself comfortable in one of the two plush chairs Laura owned.

"Don't you mean your ivory tower?" Ellen asked. For the sake of not prolonging the conversation or turning it hostile Laura ignored Ellen's dig. Silence of any kind seemed to get to Ellen so Laura was only granted a few seconds of concentration before Ellen continued.

"Well, Baltar is a frakking idiot and he's going to have a riot on his hands. That's what Saul keeps saying. No doubt Saul will probably help start it." Ellen chuckled to herself.

With a heavy sigh Laura put down her pen and looked over to the occupied chair. It would be easy enough to usher Ellen out of her home and treat her poorly enough to ensure she never returned, but, as much as she hated to admit it, Laura was lonely. Billy was gone. Elosha was gone. Most of her extended family died on Caprica long ago. The Admiral was still on Galactica and his son was commanding Pegasus. The two men were her only real friends among the fleet. This meant company, if even it was Ellen, was welcome.

"I'm sure Baltar is having a difficult enough time as it is, without Saul starting anything." Laura looked over her glasses as she spoke. Ellen chortled.

"Yeah, right. You don't fool me. You'd like to see him ten feet under as much as Saul. I don't know why Bill doesn't come down here and straighten things out, instead of hiding up there on his little ship."

Laura neatly folded her hands into her lap.

"Is there something you wanted, Ellen?"

The wife of the recently retired XO stood up and walked over to Laura's desk. With a smile of sickening pleasure on her face, Ellen set the chipped white cup on the papers.

"Just to invite you over for dinner the day after tomorrow."

Laura forced a polite smile back and reached for her pen. She had time enough to grade her paper but sometimes, most of the time, Ellen got on her nerves.

"Thank you, no. I've got school work piling up. Maybe next week." Laura moved Ellen's cup aside and slide the stack of papers in front of her, hoping Ellen would finally take the hint.

"Okay." Ellen's tone was defeated, yet mischievous. "But Bill was going to be there to tie up some lose ends with Saul… I thought we could sneak in a quick dinner."

The mere mention of Bill's name had never been enough to cause Laura's heart to beat forcibly in her chest. However, at the chance of seeing him again, the first time since the--she felt the drafts of air grow warmer--ground breaking was a different matter. Laura forced herself to calm down. She clenched her teeth at the way Ellen had purposefully set her up to look eager to see Bill, er…damnit, the Admiral again.

"Oh, he has shore leave?" She tried to sound casual, and keep the irritation out of her voice at having not been informed by the man himself.

"No, it's not really shore leave. I guess Bill needs some help sorting out some sort of hell-if-I-know mess aboard Galactica. It's a working dinner, but I'm sure you could persuade Bill away from business for a few minutes, don't you?" The smugness on Ellen's face was enough to make Laura chafe.

"What exactly does that mean?" Laura sent Ellen a sharp stare and straightened behind the desk. Ellen threw her hands up in the air and let them land on her chest as she laughed.

"Laura, Laura, Laura. Fine, I'll play along." Ellen changed her stance and her face became serious as she mockingly continued. "You could discuss the current state of the fleet with the Admiral, among other important political issues, blah, blah, blah. I suggest you take advantage."

"Alright. I'll be there," Laura replied, acting as though Ellen's professional reasons where the cause. When Ellen did not respond Laura looked up to find her shaking her head.

"You are pining, darling. Lords know I won't let the two of you discuss business all night." With a wink Ellen finally departed the tent.

Which lead Laura to the third thing she had a hard time adjusting to on New Caprica. Seeing Bill or not seeing Bill caused her equal grief, especially after the night under the stars. Was she reading too much into that particular encounter? She brushed the thought aside with the stack of papers she had finished grading.

--

Bill desperately fought the urge to lower his head and shut his eyes. He worked an extra shift on Galactica before hitching a ride down to the planet, and the never ending tedium of the political battle before him was like a soft lullaby.

One glance around the room told him Baltar was just as bored, though he had no right to be. Dr. Trista Keller was monologuing quiet passionately about the need for more funding for the agricultural and bioengineering departments of the government.

He knew his attention was really slipping, when the slight tilt of Dr. Keller's young head to one side reminded him distinctly of the former president. Blue eyes wandered toward the small window of Colonial One. Outside the grey tents cast fragile shadows over the rocky wet ground. Bill could barely make out tiny dots moving along the ground, and he wondered if she was one of them.

The Admiral was not accustomed to these flights of fancy nor did he often allow himself to indulge in reminiscing. For one, the reminiscing was always in tandem with an intangible yet unmistakable pang of guilt and depression. He could not put his finger on the exact cause of such feelings, nor did he want to.

"Don't you agree, Admiral?"

Adama focused his eyes on those in the room. Baltar was glaring at him knowingly, all other eyes watched him expectantly, except for Dr. Keller. She was standing with her arms folded and shoulders ridged her attention solely on Baltar. Sitting in Laura's big plush chair under the surprisingly solid stare of Dr. Keller, made Baltar shrink even more in Adama's eyes.

"The growing season is almost over. Much as I hate to side with the president," Bill ignored the smirk on Baltar's face, "ensuring our people have solid housing for the rough winter ahead should be our first priority."

Keller turned her head sharply. Adama knew she was reluctant to give up her fight and perhaps because other passionate political leaders had made him more aware, he spoke softly to her.

"You are welcome to whatever resources you can use from Galactica and Pegasus. If this where the start of the growing season I would agree with you."

Dr. Keller looked even more upset than she had a few minutes ago.

"Fine. Thank you, Admiral. Mr. President." Keller turned and stalked out of the room, her gangly red-headed assistant close on her heels. Adama got to his feet, not wanting to prolong his time with the President. He had a meeting with Saul in an hour, but he wanted enough time to see an old friend before heading to the Tigh's home.

"Admiral? Where are you going?" Baltar's high pitched tone brought out the worst in Adama's temper.

"I have a meeting with Colonel Tigh."

Baltar ran a hand through his greasy hair and shook his head.

"Mr. Gaeta is ready to go over the daily log from Galactica with you."

Bill clenched his teeth, knowing full well the reason Baltar was trying to prolong the meeting. He was afraid. The fear was plain, raging like a forest fire behind those small dark rimmed glasses. For all his cowardice and eccentricity, Gaius Baltar was no fool. Adama could see the President was acutely aware of how simple it would be for the Admiral and the former president to snap the single strand by which he held onto power. If at any point Bill had considered doing so, he remembered the day ages ago, when he convinced his president not to steal the election. He was a patriot. Some things would never change.

So, with a heavy sigh Bill sat back down. Baltar disappeared behind a curtain and Gaeta showed up with a large stack of paperwork. Adama only thought about looking back out the window.

--

From the nervous giggles that randomly escaped her throughout the day, Laura wondered if Tory or any number of her students noticed her particularly good mood. Children were much more intuitive than most people gave them credit for, and Laura knew this.

Laura straightened after leaning over a difficult math problem. Most of the students had their attention focused on the paper in front of them, but there was a buzz about the room, and Laura guessed her giggles had sparked it.

Not until Laura stepped back into the classroom did she realize how much she missed it. The power-trip aspect of teaching never held much appeal for her but, now that she was no longer president, she found a deep satisfaction in her singular control of the education of her students.

The day sped by as her excitement for dinner got the better of her. Tory left the classroom after a brief update on the state of the workers union, giving Laura the opportunity to collect her thoughts and the worksheets at each desk. With a smile to herself as she pondered what she might wear to the Tighs, she felt the shadow of a person in the doorway. When she lifted her eyes, the last person she ever expected to see in her natural life appeared before her.

The pinched nose, sever glasses and straight brown hair of Dr. Trista Keller's emotionless visage greeted her like a slap in the face.

"Madame President."

The words surprised Laura so much she ducked her head and pretended to be reaching for a paper in order to avoid appearing as if she was stumbling over her own feet.

"Dr. Keller." Roslin returned the greeting in the same ice-laced tone Trista used, though Laura could not help a tiny smile. "I'm the former president."

Trista briskly walked in a straight line across the room and surveyed the surrounds like a professional architect on the job.

"I will never call that thing we have now president." Trista did not look at Laura when she spoke.

There was only a split second of silence, which Laura hoped to break by inquiring about the emotional state of Trista, but the woman spoke first.

"The reason I'm here is to ask your opinion about the bio-engineering project put on hold in favor of building construction. The Admiral has taken Baltar's side, and I think you could persuade him otherwise." Trista was direct and to the point, just as she had always been.

Laura was baffled by Trista's request for more than a few reasons. From her tone, Laura could not derive any undertone of irony or petty implications. Life had been hard on everyone. Hard lessons had been learned. Maybe Trista had learned forgiveness. Inwardly, Laura shook her head at the thought.

"I agree with the Admiral. If we are going to make a go of this, I think the first thing we need to do is ensure our people can make it through the winter. We have next year to—"

"Save it," Trista interrupted harshly, "You and I both know the cylons are coming back. The food reserves as they are won't last much longer with the fleet traveling again. Contamination is more than likely with the poor storage conditions, and I want some fresh fruit and vegetables when we resume our journey to Earth."

Laura slowly put down the papers she had been hugging to her chest and then folded her arms. She licked her lips and narrowed her eyes and she tried to understand exactly where she stood in her relationship with this stranger from the past.

"What exactly makes you think the cylons will come back?" Laura thought the question was legitimate, and with the way Trista barged in Laura was reluctant to tell her anything.

"You just want to hear me say it." For the first time Trista's lips hinted at a smile. Laura waited, unaffected by the slight break in Trista's stoic exterior. "You know I've always been the religious one. I got that from my mother. I know the cylons will be back, because you are the dying leader. Your cancer is in remission, but it won't be forever. The cylons will be back. You will take us to Earth, and I want some creature comforts on the way there."

"That's funny. I thought you hated me." Laura said the words without apology or regret. It was a simple fact, and both of them knew it. Trista unfolded her arms and stepped forward, hesitating to speak for only a brief second.

"I don't hate you. I've never hated you."

Laura could not stop the bitter laugh that splurged into the air. At the look of hurt on Trista's face Laura felt a bit guilty in her reaction.

"I would talk to the Admiral, but Baltar makes sure we never see each other. He's afraid of what we might do."

Laura smirked and felt a chill travel down her spine. How she ever let Bill talk her into giving up the presidency to that traitor she would never know.

"To be honest I don't think Baltar gives it that much thought. He's out only to please himself. The Admiral is the one keeping the fleet together. He has a lot of pull. If you could just meet with him, try to convince him to change Baltar's mind—"

Laura held up a hand.

"I'll do what I can…"

"Thank you." Trista said and was about to leave.

"…if," Laura added slowly. She took a deep breath, and hoped she would not regret her next words. "I want to know about the girls. Will you come by, and tell me what I missed? I heard they were on Caprica with Max when the attack happened and—"

"Don't. Just don't." Trista turned and took a few pained steps to the door. She lifted her chin and turned briefly to face Laura.

"You always did know how to bargain. Probably why Richard…"

Laura felt her face drop about the same time that Trista's did.

"It's a deal."

Laura sighed heavily when the woman was gone. The night had not even begun and already Laura had been on an emotional roller coaster ride. She pondered briefly telling Bill about the encounter with Trista but decided it was too complicated a subject to go into with the little time they would have.

She finished collecting the last of the papers, and the menial task actually did some good in helping her calm her nerves after the encounter. It had literally been almost seven years since Laura last saw Trista. Laura hated people who tried to re-enter her life after long absences, but, somehow, she always let them.