Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Chapter 10: Need-to-know basis

As Adama stepped into CIC, Tigh looked over at him for a moment, as if to ask, It's okay that I'm still here, right? Adama gave him a short nod as he neared the table in the center of the room. "I spoke to the security team and told them that the four of us being Cylons was a possibility so they'd watch for trouble instead of shooting first," Tigh relayed.

The admiral glanced over his shoulder, spotting one of the marines. "That's fine, I suppose. Have you found anything in the area giving off sounds?"

"Nope. How're you holding up?" Tigh asked quietly.

"I'll be better when I can get some answers," Adama responded. "I want you to try something different. We've been looking for signals present within the fleet. Could we try to scan for incoming signals?"

Tigh sighed as he glanced at his console. "This isn't the Pegasus. We've only got a narrow band frequency for picking up incoming subspace signals."

Adama's brow furrowed. "Let's keep making sure the Cylons aren't following us then."

Tigh nodded, but then looked over his shoulder at the sectioned-off glass area that Adama and Roslin would sometimes talk in. "You've got a guest," he mentioned.

The admiral followed his gaze and walked over to find Kara sitting in the room waiting for him. She stood and saluted when he entered. After he had returned her salute, she spoke. "Sir, I didn't want to just waltz into CIC without talking to you first. They're going to ask how I'm alive. What do you want me to tell them?" Kara inquired.

Adama recalled what Zarek had suggested, but his plan did not seem quite satisfactory. "I don't want you telling them you've found Earth; at least not until we've confirmed it. No matter what we say, it'll probably sound crazy, but I have an idea."

After they had decided on a story, Kara and Adama exited the glass area and walked out to the middle of the room. There were several gasps as the officers turned their heads toward their guest. The admiral spoke. "I'd like you all to welcome back Captain Thrace. Contrary to our scans, she did not die, but was pulled into a wormhole system. She has spent the last two months trying to find the fleet again. She'll be joining us to help with battle strategies against the Cylons."

Kara smiled as she followed him down to the table containing the model ships. "Thanks, Sir," she whispered. He gave her a brief nod and wondered how the president's meeting was progressing.

Tory met Roslin in the hall on the way to her meeting. Beginning to feel nauseous, Roslin was glad for the company. "Madame President, are you alright?" her aide inquired.

The older woman smiled calmly. "I will be when this is over."

As they entered the room, the reporters jumped up from their seats and cameras flashed everywhere, almost like weapon's fire. News had been scarce since the trial, so the reporters chased after anything of interest. Roslin nodded to Zarek, who was also present, and then put a hand up. "One at a time please."

"Madame President, is it true that we're running out of food?" one small blonde woman asked.

"No, Megan, we have not reached that state of urgency. With the Board of Nutrition, we shouldn't have to reach that state," Roslin replied, taking a seat.

A man with thick round glasses and a worn blue suit spoke next. "Ma'am, if we are low on food, how are we going to fix the problem?"

Roslin folded her hands in front of her and smiled. "Well Carl, we are scanning the area for another planet that could contain algae. If we find a planet of that sort, we will restock and then continue on our way."

"How close are we to reaching a planet?" a tall bony woman asked.

"There is no way to be certain at this point," the president answered.

"Ma'am, can you tell us how close we are to finding Earth? Is it months or weeks?" a chubby balding man with a thick blonde mustache asked.

She flinched inwardly. The question reminded her of the conference after the exposure in court when another reporter had asked her how long she had to live. "I cannot disclose that sort of information without first conferring with the admiral," Roslin replied confidently.

A woman with her hair in tight brown curls rose from her seat in the back. "Madame President," she began, speaking loudly, "we've heard rumors that Starbuck is alive. Can you confirm this? If this is true, where has she been for the last two months?"

Roslin masked the panic forming in her stomach and looked toward Tory. Oddly, her seat was empty. The aide had stood when the woman began her questions. As Roslin strained to look behind her, Tory returned. "Ma'am, you have a phone call."

The older woman gave Tory a small smile of relief. Then she stood and faced the reporters. "You'll have to excuse me. I'll see to your questions shortly," she stated before Tory led her off to the side, near the phone.

"Who called?" Roslin inquired.

Tory handed the phone to the older women. "No one. I thought you might want to take a minute and talk to the admiral."

Roslin nodded. "Good idea." Then she dialed CIC and waited.

After a moment, the phone was picked up. "Adama."

"Admiral, I have a problem. Is this a secure line?" she wondered.

There was a pause and then she heard his voice again. "It is now. What did you need?"

"I've got reporters here who know that Captain Thrace is back. What should I tell them?" Rosin requested.

Adama told her how he had explained it to CIC. "I hope that helps."

"It does, Bill. Thank you," she relayed.

Something in her tone led him to ask the next question. "What else do they want to know?"

Roslin sighed. "Oh, the usual. How soon until we reach Earth? And, as I told you before, they've asked about the food."

"My offer for dinner still stands. As soon as I finish my shift, we can eat," he reminded.

"I'll join you, but at the moment I really wish it was something other than algae. I wouldn't mind cornflakes," she mentioned.

He chuckled. "Then I'll make it a mission to find the president the last box of cornflakes in the fleet. Every backpack and pocket will be inspected."

She laughed with him and the tension in her shoulders decreased slightly. "You do that. Finding cornflakes is going to be impossible; finding milk to go with them is going to take divine intervention."

"I promise I'll come up with something that isn't in its paste form," he relayed.

"Then I'll see you at dinner," she ended. As she looked back at her aide, Tory tried to conceal a smirk. Roslin let a half-smile slip through before she straightened her jacket and regain a business-like composure.

Then she returned to the press. "Captain Thrace is alive, and I promise you that she is fully human. She has spent the last two months trapped in a wormhole system and has managed by luck of the Deities to find us again. That is all."

As she hurried out the door, Zarek caught up with her. "Wherever you're going, I'm following. There are some things you need to be updated on."

"Of course, Tom," she responded as they hurried through the halls with Tory following.

They stopped in front of the admiral's quarters. Roslin opened the door and let Tory in, but Zarek hesitated. "We lost the press a couple of turns ago. If we head to the boardroom, they'll be waiting for us. Here they aren't likely to look," she mentioned. Reluctantly he followed her in.

"If he catches me in here-"

"You're the vice president and I invited you. Now what is this about?" she asked.

The three of them stood around the desk as he continued. "I managed to ask around and I found some information on the Getani woman. She's a computer programmer who decided to infiltrate a casino on Geminon. She was telling the truth about being a Sagittarian, but she spent the later half of her life on Geminon. No one knew what she was doing until she reprogrammed the slot machines. When you get greedy, you get caught. She was probably hiding on one of the vessels, running from the law when the Cylons attacked. Most people didn't know who she was, so it made it easier to start a new life."

Roslin put her hands in the pockets of her skirt and looked back at him. "What should we do with her then?"

Zarek smirked at her uncertainty. "I seem to remember a president making an offer of manual labor to a bunch of hardened criminals, in exchange for slowly earning their freedom. Why not assign her some form of community service? I'm sure you'll find a place for her soon enough."

"Madame President, it would be a better idea than keeping her in a cell," Tory added.

"I'll have to discuss that with the admiral. Thank you, Tom," she responded.

He took a step toward the door, but then turned back. "I know Lee Adama's out of the brig."

Roslin's eyes widened. "How in the universe do you know all of this?"

"Let's just say I have good sources," he said with a smirk. "My point is that I'd be willing to take him on as an assistant. Frankly I've got a lot on my plate these days and I could a little help."

The nausea was creeping back. She placed one hand on the desk to steady herself, hoping that Zarek would not notice her discomfort. "You'll have to ask him about that. Presently I don't know where he is."

"In that case, I'll be going. Take care of yourself, Laura," he stated, having seen something, but not sure as to what it was in her face.

"You too, Tom," she returned.

He left and Tory handed her a glass of water. "Perhaps you should sit down," she suggested.

Roslin slipped off her glasses and took a seat on the couch. "Thank you, Tory."

Tory looked toward the door and then back at Roslin, shifting from one foot to the other. "Ma'am, if I'm no longer needed…"

"Go, and thank you for your help. Don't forget to take a marine with you. And if you should find Sam Anders, tell him that I would like to speak with him tomorrow. It's time he learned that his wife is alive," Roslin relayed. There was a hesitation before Tory nodded, as if she was contemplating telling Anders.

As her aide left, Roslin glanced down at the desk, noticing that some of the files were halfway out of their folders. She lifted up a few and shoved them back into place, giving them an orderly look. But as she rustled through a few papers, she spotted Adama's binary code doodle. Deciding that he would not mind if she borrowed it, she removed it from the stack and placed it in her papers by the couch.

When Adama's shift ended, he headed back to his quarters, thinking about what to fix for dinner. As he opened the hatch, he found Roslin dosing in the couch, curled up on one end with her shoes off. He smiled, walking over to her and placing a few hairs behind her ear. She blinked and smiled at him. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself. How did everything go?" he inquired.

She stretched. "I gave them what I was willing to. They tried to follow me for a while, but I lost them after a point before I ducked in here."

"If they ever show up at my door for an interview, they're going to find themselves looking at the other side of a cell," he relayed.

"I think they know that," Roslin said with a smirk. Adama headed toward the kitchen and she followed him.

"I can't promise cornflakes, but I can try a few new recipes if you'd like," he offered.

"Sure," she responded. "By the way, after the meeting, Zarek updated me on some information about the woman in the brig." She went on to tell him about the casino.

"Makes sense. If she's that good at computers though, she should've been able to decipher the electronic pad after turning it on."

"What did she tell you?" Roslin asked as they found a recipe from a few notes that looked edible.

He located the other ingredients as they continued speaking. "She said she couldn't translate it. It thought it was strange too. If it was from Earth, it's possible that their binary code is different from ours."

She boiled two cups of water. "Speaking of binary code, maybe you should have her look at your doodle."

His brow furrowed while he scrunched the algae paste into a processor that made noodles. "I'd rather forget about that. It's a reminder that I don't know what I am at the moment."

"Bill, it could be important," she argued.

He tightened his grip on the salt shaker as he picked it up to salt the water. "Not today."

She rested a hand lightly on his forearm. When he turned to face her, he set the salt shaker down. "Whatever we face, Bill, we face together."

He drew her into a hug. "I'm tired of uncertainties."

"Sometimes what we don't know is better than what we do because it allows for hope," she stated.

She was hiding something, of that, he was sure. He could almost feel it, but he let it go, figuring that it would come up within the next few days anyway. Before they parted, he kissed the top of her head. Dinner was composed of green noodles and sauce. Despite everything being green, Roslin smiled as she took a bite.

"Again, dinner is actually pretty good," she complimented.

He grinned, swirling the noodles around his fork. "Maybe I missed my calling."

She chuckled softly. "Are you trying to get out of your job again?"

"Not this time. I'm afraid I couldn't cook for more than a small dinner party. Cooking for a whole Battlestar would be a green nightmare. And I cook better with you around," he added. "I don't think the fleet would be happy if both of its leaders resigned to be cooks."

The giggly started, slowly at first, but then it bubbled out like it had during her preparation for the debate so long ago. "I just got the funniest mental picture: the two of us… in aprons… covered in green spatter… posing for photos."

Seeing her giggle, he laughed with her. "Now that would be worth seeing."

Later when the dishes had been cleaned up, they sat together on his couch, drinking small glasses of Ambrosia. He smiled at her, seeing her reclining on two cushions of the couch in a feline pose. "Laura, what were we like at the cabin? What sorts of things did we do?"

"Bill, it was an illusion," she pointed out, scooting over so that she only took up the farther cushion.

"I'm just curious as to what you imagined," he replied, leaning forward slightly and placing his hands on his knees.

She took a sip of her Ambrosia and smiled nostalgically. "You and I were very close, like we were at the groundbreaking ceremony. I taught my classes, and you," she paused to face him, "you helped with history, both past and current. And you had a boxing club."

He chuckled. "Did people actually learn anything?"

"Of course they did," she remarked, swatting his arm playfully.

"How did we end up with the dog?" he inquired.

Digger padded out of the kitchen, making himself visible to her again. "He was just there. We found him when we were building the cabin, sunning himself on the site for the porch."

He smiled, but she watched as he looked at the far wall and took a deep breath. Should I still ask this, or just let it go to what we have now? I'd still like to know, he decided. "How close were we?"

She studied her hands. "You might not want the answer to that question yet."

"Why not?" he probed, facing her again.

"It's… I mean, well, it wasn't real," she stammered.

He put one of his hands on top of hers. "It was to you."

She leaned back against the couch. "We were… as close as two people can be who share the same house, and the same bed."

He was quiet for a moment. Are you upset with me? I had a relationship with you, but it wasn't you, she worried. "Bill."

Then he smiled at her and she felt the weight lift off her shoulders. "So you took me up on the offer of 'one of my beds' before I made it? In that case, we have some catching up to do," he teased.

She smirked and finished her drink. "Another time, mister. I really need a good night's sleep."

"So say we all," he commented, standing and then offering her a hand. She accepted and they walked over to his door. "Goodnight, Bill."

"Goodnight, Laura," he responded. They smiled again and shared a sound kiss as he wrapped his arms around her. "You can have my bed and I'll sleep on the couch," he whispered.

The offer really was tempting, but she stepped back. "Thank you, but I need to go."

As she left his quarters, she smiled down at the dog that followed her, and then looked back to see him still standing in the doorway. He smiled and she smirked, shaking her head. Once in the guest quarters, she dressed for bed and sleep claimed her quickly, due to the day's activities and the alcohol.

She and Adama were out in the garden. Digger was rolling around in the flowerbed and she was scolding him. Adama laughed at the dog's antics, watching as he rose from the flowerbed and wagged his tail, circling Roslin's legs. Then the dog dropped down on the grass, lying belly-up, hoping to be pet.

"What am I going to do with you, you silly dog!" Roslin exclaimed, leaning down to pet Digger.

Adama chuckled. "He's going to need a bath before we let him in the house."

Suddenly the dog tackled her to the ground and licked her face, getting mud and flower petals on her clothes. "It looks like I'm going to need a bath too."

The dog went off to chase a yellow butterfly and she sat up, dusting herself off.

He offered her a hand. She accepted and when she was standing, she spotted a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That's not a bad idea," he stated.

She eyed him with suspicion. "What are you-"

He wrapped an arm around her waist and cut her off with a kiss. "Race you to the pond."

To her surprise, he darted away from her and broke into a run off into the woods. "You won't be able to outrun me for long, mister," she called out, running in after him.

As she entered the woods though, the forest looked more like the one on Kobol. A sharp pain in her stomach caused her to put a hand against a tree for support. Then Kara walked out from behind another tree. "There you are. Come with me."

She followed Kara past a few more trees. "Where are we going?"

"We're almost there," the blonde woman replied.

They stopped at the edge of a cliff. Roslin glanced past it to see a swirling mess of clouds. "What is that?"

Kara extended her hand. "Do you trust me?"

Roslin tentatively took the other woman's hand. "Yes but- you're not going to jump, are you?"

"Come with me," Kara told her, pulling her toward the edge of the cliff. "All is not as it seems."

"But I wasn't meant to see Earth. The prophecy-"

"There's more to it than that," Kara stated, needing to raise her voice as the storm thundered below them.

"Come with me," Kara repeated.

"I can't." Suddenly the pain in Roslin's stomach increased. She dropped to her knees, breaking away from Kara.

Roslin woke in bed, the sharp pain in her stomach present, as well as the nausea. She scrambled toward the small bathroom and expelled the contents of her stomach. She used her travel mouthwash and tried to splash water on her face as the black dog stood next to her and whined. The room spun and she lost her grip on the sink. She landed on the cool floor, her surroundings fading. The last thing she heard was the dog howling.

Adama woke and looked around his dark quarters. Something did not feel right. He sat up and reached for the light switch, listening for a possible problem. Though he heard nothing and everything looked like it was in order, the feeling that something was wrong continued to bother him.

The phone suddenly rang and he reached for it. "Adama."

"Admiral, sir," Kara's voice began. "It's going to sound crazy, but it's important. I think you need to check on the president."

(My thanks to Grammar Maven, Reagan, carolann, Mariel3, and Calico Star for reviewing :D)