Written as a gift for i_paint_the_sky, who said, "I would like a fic and I would like it to be set during the missing year on New Caprica but would also like it to follow RDM canon concerning when Laura and Bill first slept together (so they didn't actually do the deed until Disquiet Follows My Soul)."

Hark, the Herald

By DeeRich

her·ald \ˈher-əld, ˈhe-rəld\ noun 1 b : an officer with the status of ambassador acting as official messenger between leaders especially in war

Doctor Jack Cottle kept close to the tents, stuck to the shadows as he trudged the rutted streets of New Caprica City. Everyone on the cold, damp mud ball that President Baltar named "New Caprica" knew him. They recognized his looming bulk and dark pea coat so they all spoke to him, stopping him on his rounds, chasing him down in the street, ferreting him out of his tent at all hours of the day and night, and besieging him in the part tent, part shack that Baltar declared "New Caprica City Hospital."

Can't even get a moment's peace for a smoke! Jack sighed and tucked his lighter onto the recesses of his coat. His hand brushed a small envelope also secreted there. He suppressed a smile as he climbed into the raptor and settled into the rear passenger seat.

Lt. Hamish "Skulls" McCall sought his eye. "Buckle up, Doc," Skulls grunted, and turned to his control panel.

Jack secured the harness and settled his head against the rest. He closed his eyes, but didn't relax into sleep. A few moments with no godsdamned questions. Time enough to review my mission.

*******

"You sure you can do this Jack?"

"What makes you think I can't, Madame President." Jack leaned back in the small chair next to the "teacher's desk" in Laura Roslin's school tent.

She looked up at him, frowning over the top of her glasses. "I'm not president any more, Sherman. Don't call me that. I have enough problems."

"With our paranoid leader? He's a pain in everyone's arse. And don't call me Sherman -- unless you're angry." Jack grinned and then guffawed at her outraged expression. "My mother called me Sherman. When she was angry."

"I remind you of your mother?" She laughed with him. After a moment, Laura grew serious. "The children are quite enough for me to worry about."

Jack raised a doubtful eyebrow, mindful of the thinness of the tent walls and her not unfounded concerns over Baltar's agents. "That's not all you're worried about, Doctor Roslin."

She smiled. "I don't worry about him, Jack. I miss him."

Jack stood and leaned over the table between them, bringing his mouth close to her ear. As he bent he was tempted to kiss the top of her head – just as he had a niece a lifetime and light years ago. "Don't you worry, young lady. The mail always goes through." He straightened and pulled on his coat. "I've got a Raptor to catch."

*******

Jack opened his eyes and sat up as the Raptor landed gently on the Galactica's flight deck. Skulls exited without a comment, so Jack followed. The deck was mostly dark and silent, with Vipers in the niches and few Raptors squatting near the elevators. He sighed. At first, seeing the flight deck in this state had alarmed him, but now it was routine. How does the Admiral keep any birds in the air with all his pilots on the ground? Checking his coat to be sure the missive was still in place, he glared at Skulls and headed off toward Adama's quarters.

There were no Marines on guard, so he rapped on the hatch, and went inside. He paused after going a few feet. The well-worn couch and piles of books gleamed at him, lit by warm yellow pools of light. This place doesn't look any different. "Admiral?" He stepped farther into the cabin.

Admiral William Adama emerged from the sleeping area, dressed in his blue uniform; the top buttons of the tunic were open. "Jack. Good to see you."

"Same here, sir." At a nod from Adama, Jack dropped into a chair, and pulled cigarettes and lighter from his pockets. He lit one, inhaled deeply and tossed the pack to Adama.

Bill snapped the filter off his smoke, and produced a lighter from his pocket. He took a deep drag and exhaled a hazy blue grey cloud toward the overhead. "All right, Major. Bring me up to speed."

Business first, as always. Cottle watched the Admiral's reactions as he detailed the shortages the Colonials faced, and Baltar's mismanagement of almost everything. He noted how Adama calmly asked questions and suggested ways the Fleet and her Admiral could covertly help. Professional detachment. You're coping. Finally, Jack shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out the small envelope. He laid it in the center of the table. "She misses you."

Bill reached out and ran a finger along the edge of the envelope. "Feeling's mutual, Jack." His eyes brightened and a smile flickered across his lips.

"You should visit more often." Shrugging off Adama's glare, Cottle went on, "It's good for morale." … and for both of you.

"Baltar …" Adama shook his head.

Jack grunted. I know. Baltar threatened her.

"The Cylons …" Bill frowned.

"What's the likelihood of that?"

Bill leaned back in his chair and studied the overhead. He puffed on his cigarette. "Getting smaller everyday, Jack. Smaller every day." He stood and moved across to his desk to retrieve a carefully folded sheaf of papers.

Jack stood and held out a hand. He took the papers and tucked them inside his coat.

"Watch out for her, Jack."

Cottle drew himself to attention and snapped Adama a salute. "Aye-aye, sir."

The Admiral returned Jack's salute, reached out and grasped the doctor's hand. His grip was warm and firm. "And take care of yourself, too."

Jack returned the grip. "Until next time, Admiral."

*******

Laura reclined outside her tent, taking advantage of a rare warm, clear evening on New Caprica. She tried to pick the Galactica out of the twinkling lights in the night sky. When she failed, she sighed, touched the empty space beside her, and laid Bill's letter on her chest. "I miss you." I need you here. Baltar is an ass. Winter will be a disaster.

*******

Bill lingered before the port on the Galactica's observation deck, Laura's letter in his hand. He gazed at the only spot of light on the otherwise dark surface of New Caprica. "Someday Laura, you and I will find our way around our responsibilities." Someday.