Author Notes: A drabble series that starts during LDYB part 1. It has an AU twist, but falls back into canon in the end.

I do not own any of the characters below – I am only borrowing them – and will not be financially benefitting from the story in anyway. No copyright infringement is intended.

Electional Blackmail Chapter 11: Advances

Bill spun to see a figure emerging from shadows in a darkened corner of the room.

The silhouette of a woman glided towards him and Bill braced himself for the visual – already knowing of her injuries; but still unsure of what to expect.

He watched uneasily; as the light emitting from the hallway touched the tip of her toes and slowly travelled upwards. Her movement revealed her body inch by inch until finally, the light exposed her battered features in all their gruesome glory.

She had burn scars covering the right side of her face; her nose was disfigured, the skin around her lips seemed tight - it blurred the definition of her lips. She was void of eyelashes and eyebrows and there was not a single hair on the front right-side of her scalp.

As a soldier, Bill had seen horrific injuries; but one in particular had scarred him more than any another. As the mysterious woman emerged from the shadows - for a split-second Bill was staring at Jaycie. The injuries this woman revealed to him bore a startling resemblance to those of his first love, who had been severely wounded in the Cylon war.

His stomach tensed; queasiness washed over him and he swallowed back bile that was burning his throat.

'Jaycie…' He hadn't thought of her in months, and now the image he was faced with forced memories to surface that he would sooner forget; it felt as though he'd been punched in the gut.

But this woman wasn't Jaycie and despite her suffering, Bill knew she posed a threat to someone he cared for.

It took every ounce of self-discipline Bill had to not close his eyes to the burned and tortured image.

Yet despite all of this, his expression remained stoic. "Christine, I presume?"

xXx

Christine peered into the light that flooded the centre of the room and was surprised to find herself in the presence of the esteemed Admiral of the Fleet.

'Interesting…'

Her experience in politics had taught her the importance of having a strong working relationship between government and military. But naturally, knowing first hand of Laura's propensity to jump into bed with powerful men - Christine had always assumed that the bond between the two leaders was more than simply platonic.

However, assumption being the mother of all frak-ups, she also knew that it was never wise to make blind accusations.

'His attendance here may be innocent…'

Perhaps the Admiral had heard that President Roslin was taking an unscheduled flight to the hub of the black market. That would certainly make the formidable man suspicious, 'but suspicious enough to blindly follow her here? Doubtful…'

Christine smiled to herself as she moved towards him.

'Laura can't know that he's here.' President Roslin had vacated the room mere seconds before the Admiral burst in; surely the two would have crossed paths in the corridor. 'He's been hiding…'

"Christine, I presume?" Adama asked, his gruffness exaggerated by the silence of their surroundings.

His poker face bore no reaction to her injuries; almost as if he had been expecting the sight.

'So, the Admiral was listening…but how much did he hear?'

"That's right, Admiral…" Christine smirked; as she formulated a plan in her beautifully manipulative mind. "But Christine who?"

"You tell me." The Admiral didn't miss a beat; his tone remained level and his piercing, blue eyes refused to leave hers.

'He doesn't know.'Christine acknowledged; a sly smile creeping across her lips, 'this is going to be fun.'

"Why, Admiral…I'm surprised that you don't recognise me…" She teased; leaning in closer. "…I'm Christine Adar."

xXx

Laura sank into the chair and buckled-up as the raptor left the landing-bay. She removed her glasses and brought a shaky hand up to massage her brow; feeling the concerned gaze of her guards upon her, she twisted to look out of the window.

'Oh Gods, Richard…'

Laura had no excuses; she knew Richard was married, knew the risk involved politically and yet she couldn't stop.

She had tried to; for the best part of three years Laura had repelled Richard's advances, which seemed to only make him want her more.

It had started with appreciative glances at luncheons and galas, then came the compliments, and soon the lingering touches.

A woman knows.

"Work for me, Laura." She remembered him requesting; at a benefit for a Children's Hospital. "Come join my campaign."

They had stepped out onto the balcony for a smoke; he was standing dangerously close.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Richard."

He had smirked at that; a flirtatious side smile twitching at his lips. "And why is that, Laura?"

"Because you're married." She had answered flatly, inhaling a drag off her cigarette and looking out onto the city below. "And I'm engaged."

He didn't ask why that would matter; the heat between them was palpable. Still, he seemed to like her acknowledgement that there was something there. "In that order?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Does that fact I'm married bother you more than the fact you're engaged?"

She was taken aback by his overconfidence, and if she were really truthful with herself - a little turned-on.

After a beat, she stubbed her cigarette out firmly in the ashtray. "Goodnight, Richard," she said curtly, before turning on her heel and heading back through the ballroom.

"Sleep well, Laura," she heard him call from behind.

That night, sleep never came.

TBC

End Notes: Thanks for reading!