Banked
Missing scene from episode 3.05 "Collaborators"
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Laura stood alone in the middle of the cabin, letting the smell of leather and books wrap itself around her like a warm blanket. It had been a year since she'd been here: strangely, it seemed like both a lifetime and a moment ago.
Bill's cabin was unchanged and she let that fact calm the butterflies in her stomach. In a few minutes he would walk through that door, and she would lay eyes on him for the first time in far too long.
President Baltar's edict - that the Admiral should remain confined to space overseeing the defense of the colony - had kept them apart since the night of the ground breaking ceremony. Prior to the Cylon occupation they had managed to exchange brief calls on the wireless and infrequent letters, but the lack of direct contact had caused an ache deep inside her. Another reason to dislike Baltar, not that she really needed any more.
That one night, full of alcohol and weed; laughter and promise. Laura smiled to herself, the expression bittersweet. Memories of that one magical interlude had kept her warm on many a cold New Caprican night. But time and the effort to survive under five months of Cylon occupation had dimmed the memory of those blazing feelings to an ember. No matter how much she had wished for Bill to be with her on the planet, helping her plan the construction of their cabin, everyone would all still be stuck down there if that had been the case. Maybe it had worked out for the best.
She sighed, and ran her hands over the skirt of her suit, which had been retrieved from storage. Once it had been a second skin to her, now... Well, she was having problems adjusting to wearing her armor again, she admitted candidly to herself. For the last year she had been someone else: 'Miz Laura' to her students; 'Ms Roslin' to casual acquaintances; but just 'Laura' in her heart.
Now, she was going to be forced to become someone else. A someone she wasn't sure she wanted to be again.
Tom Zarek was currently standing before the newly reformed Quorum of Twelve, moving a "no confidence" motion in the missing (and hopefully dead) President Baltar. Her name would be proposed as Vice President, then in a few days Zarek would resign. Once again she would be the President, and no longer just Laura.
The hatch swung open - startling her, so deeply was she lost in her thoughts - and in stepped Admiral William Adama.
'He looks tired,' was her first thought, followed closely by 'he looks wonderful.' She had to make an effort to blink back the tears at the sight of him.
'Of course he looks tired', she admonished herself. He hadn't exactly been sitting around on his butt up here having a picnic. The rescue of the Colonists from New Caprica had been a precision operation, with a great deal of planning behind it.
Saul had not been overly forthcoming as to the specific details of the rescue, so she had watched open-mouthed as Galactica had jumped into the upper atmosphere and plummeted toward the settlement. For as long as she lived, she knew she would never forget that heart-stopping moment of the immense warship dropping from the sky like a rock, spewing all of its Vipers through a cloud of fire, before jumping away at the last second. It had been awe-inspiring; completely insane, but magnificent beyond belief.
He paused on the threshold as he caught sight of her, and then smoothly entered; closing the distance between them with an outstretched hand, which she automatically took.
"Congratulations, Madam Vice President," he offered. "The Quorum has just ratified Zarek's proposal."
Laura felt a sense of dislocation, as if his voice was coming to her from a great distance.
'This isn't how our reunion is supposed to go,' she railed against fate. 'He's supposed to throw his arms around me, kiss me senseless, and then make love to me.' Her dreams over the last few months had contained many variations on their reunion scene. Sometimes they made it to his rack, but often they would make love up against a wall, or on top of his desk. Never in her imaginings had their reunion been marked by such distance and formality.
"Thank you, Admiral," she said serenely, no hint of her inner turmoil leaking through into her politician's voice. She didn't realize that her thumb was moving across the back of his hand in what could only be described as a caress, until a light flared in his eyes.
'So the fire isn't dead, only banked,' she thought. Maybe it was only natural. After all, she wasn't the same person she'd been a year ago; neither was he. They just needed time to get used to each other again.
His expression softened, and she saw the man behind the Admiral's mask once more.
"Welcome home, Laura," he said softly.
"Thank you, Bill."
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