"I have a statement regarding the incident on the Forward Hanger Deck of the Galactica. The man responsible for the shooting, Darrin Skual, was killed. Presently, we have found no accomplices. Mr. Skual was able to discharge three rounds before he was taken down. One instantly killed Major Anastasia Dualla. The other two victims are Admiral William Adama and former President Gauis Baltar. Doctor Baltar is in surgery to repair a bullet lodged in his left abdominal muscle. Admiral Adama is in intensive care, recovering from surgery to repair his right lung. Questions."
The room pounced into action, every one of the reporters raising their hand. "Piya."
"Can you describe what happened to you after Commander Adama presented you as the President?"
Roslin felt her fingers wrap tighter around the podium. It had been three hours since she had felt Bill's arm pull her to the deck in a rush. Three hours since she had heard his weak voice dragging her back from the abyss. Three hours since she found his body draped across hers, barely coherent.
"Laura…" She felt his hand run through her hair.
Focusing her eyes on his, the cacophony around them melted away. The moment hung in time. Blue – grey eyes meeting as if for the first time – love emanating between them.
And then the moment was gone, his eyes becoming unfocused – Laura noticing the blood soaking through his uniform. Instantly she placed pressure on his side. "Bill, stay with me."
His eyes fluttered close as he responded, "Always…love."
"I…" She steadied her breath, "remember the Admiral coming toward me. His left arm pulling me down as the first shot sounded. My head hit the deck, and I blacked out. I awoke to see…the Admiral passing out from blood loss. I tried to stop the bleeding, Doctor Cottle arrived on the Hanger Deck, and then I had the opportunity to take in my surroundings. Next question. Mark."
"Any truth that the former President, Doctor Baltar took a bullet for you?"
Roslin kept her face neutral, "I have not had the opportunity to speak with him. Stuart."
"Was Admiral Adama's appearance at the ceremony, planned?"
Roslin smiled internally, of course it was planned. "Planned? I'm sorry Stuart. Could you elaborate on your question?"
"Yes. Did you consult with the Admiral regarding his attendance at the ceremony and how it would assist with public approval? And was his attendance, despite his medical condition, why the ceremony was held on Galactica?"
"As Tory announced yesterday, Galactica was chosen to hold the Presidential ceremony strictly based on size. In regards to the Admiral's attendance, of course, I extended an invitation. He stated he would attempt to attend, but would not commit until after he consulted with Doctor Cottle. Piya."
"Your relationship with the Admiral has strengthened since returning from New Caprica, has it moved beyond the professional realm?"
Roslin chuckled, making no effort to hide the reaction. "Perhaps we have been living different weeks, Piya. Mine as well as the Admiral's has been slightly stressful, - we have had multiple Cylon encounters, shortage of every necessary supply, a murderer killing our children, attempting to re-establish a floating Fleet with a working government among the stars and if that isn't enough; we both have almost been killed – as of today, twice." Her voice became hard, obviously daring anyone else to bring up the topic or misquote her as she continued. "So, yes – our relationship has changed. It has strengthened into a welcome and, after this week, an understandable friendship – which," Her smile easily flowed back as she continued, "I greatly prefer versus the alternative – life back on New Caprica. Stan."
"How long will Commander Adama remain in charge of the military?"
"Doctor Cottle has been unavailable since the incident to comment on the Admiral's recovery period."
Stan continued, "Will the Admiral being running things behind the scenes despite not being released by Doctor Cottle?"
Roslin thanked her years in politics to keep her face impassive. "If available, the Admiral's expertise will be consulted. Lyla."
"The road to Earth. How long? And what is the course heading?"
"Having Cylon collaborators within the Fleet immeasurably restricts the information as to our course headings. I will merely answer – classified, and classified. George."
"How is your Administration going to deal with those persons who collaborated with the Cylons?"
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Roslin walked through the hatch at sickbay, utterly drained. She wanted nothing more than to see Bill, inquire from the medical staff how he was doing, take something for her splitting headache, and wake up when the world had righted itself. As nice as all of that sounded, the President was here on business. In brief seconds, she was outside Cottle's office, knocking. "Jack."
"Come in, Madame President." His voice sounded tired.
Pulling the door closed behind her, she released a sigh that had been pent up for the past 5 hours. Then she dove into very unpleasant business that had to be dealt with, immediately. "Jack I need to speak with Bill." She said, her tired voice – hard, commanding.
Cottle pushed his report to the side, shaking his head. "No."
Sitting down opposite of him, she met his eyes. "This is not a request."
And then she saw a look and understood why everyone steered cleared of Cottle. His eyes blazed, voice firm. "No. And he will not have any visitors, yourself included."
Taking a deep breath, her eyes squinting. "Jack…this is not personal."
He raised his eyebrow, "Madame President, the Admiral is not awake. Nor will he be awake for several days."
"What?" She asked, confused. "Several days?"
"Yes. After that heroic stunt he pulled, I was barely able to keep his lung inflated. I am placing him into a sleep induced coma to assist with his healing process."
"You can't!" She blurted out.
"I'll damn well do what I need to in regards to my patients livelihood, especially concerning the Admiral." He stated with conviction.
She nodded, "I know." Tears coming to her eyes, "But, I need you to wake him up."
This caught Cottle by surprise. "Why?"
"Jack," She reached under her glasses wiping the tears away. "I wouldn't ask…but it's important."
Cottle leaned forward, "You do realize that waking him early could cause a hemorrhage."
Biting her lip, her voice breaking in response. "I know."
"And that…"
She held up her hand, shaking her head. "Don't….Jack…please don't." Tears streaming down her cheeks. "I am here as the President." Her eyes imploring Jack, "And I need to speak with the Fleet Admiral."
He nodded, "All right. On three conditions." He waited until her breathing steadied before continuing. "One – he is in a clean-room." She nodded in acceptance. "Two – after you speak with him, I have your consent to place him in an induced coma for one week that will be undisturbed."
"What?! A week!"
"He needs the time for his body to heal. I will treat him in sickbay. He will be fine, and heal much faster if he is not pushing his body too fast."
Roslin was shaking her head, "No…Jack…a week…we…the Fleet…I can't. Not for a week."
"Fine. Four days." She began shaking her head again, and he spoke before she had the opportunity. "Laura, this is non-negotiable." At the use of her first name, she realized Cottle was not going to budge past the four days. He continued on. "His immune system is compromised – his muscles along his rib cage are becoming shredded from continually being ripped and sewn back together; and if he loses any more blood, I will not be able to keep him alive. He must rest. This will ensure that for three days his body can focus on healing, nothing more."
"Okay. What is number three?" She asked, wishing to be stepping through Bill's quarters – seeing him stretched out on the couch, pulling her to him.
"I go in with you. I am bound by doctor-patient confidentiality, and have no use for the information you will be discussing. I, or a member of my staff, must be there to monitor his vitals."
Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
"Bill." Laura squeezed his hand, "Bill. I need to talk to you." She sat silently for a moment, glancing at Cottle. He shook his head indicating that he couldn't give him another stimulant. "Bill." She squeezed his hand again, and then to her heart's joy he lightly returned the gesture.
"Hey…" Her voice involuntarily softened.
His eyes fluttering open, blue eyes groggily focusing on his surroundings. "…ey."
"Admiral, I need you to listen to my voice. This is Doctor Cottle. You are in sickbay, under quarantine. Restrict your movements, and above all else – do not breath deeply. You ruptured your side while playing heroics."
Adama squeezed Laura's hand, "Rather…ruptured…differently."
A full moment passed before laughter erupted from both of them. Was it only this morning, Laura briefly thought.
"Me too." Laura replied through welcome tears of laughter.
"I am sure, Admiral." Cottle's voice was still light, "But the results are equivalent."
A sly grin spread across his pale olive skin, "One…far more…pleasurable than…other."
Cottle cleared his throat, "Yes…well, we don't always get what we want. The President requested a brief meeting with you. After the meeting, you will be placed into a sleep induced coma for several days allowing your body time to heal."
"Any….choice?" He breathed out looking from Roslin to Cottle.
Cottle answered with a voice of steel. "No."
He moved his eyes and head ever so slightly, "What's….wrong?" He asked.
Laura glanced up at Cottle, before giving Bill her full attention. "Bill, I needed to talk to you about Astral Body M8."
He nodded. "Meant…talk…you." He closed his eyes taking a breath, Cottle inching closer to the bed.
"Bill, are you all right?" Laura asked, wishing she didn't need the information. Wishing she could be here talking to him with no concerns, no Fleet, and no Cylons.
He took a shaky breath. "Hurts….How…" Bill opened his eyes, "many jumps…away."
"Gaeta can have us there in one jump."
"Not until…collaborators…sectioned…off."
She brought her face closer, "I don't understand what they have to do with the Astral Body."
"Security…breach…" Bill could feel waves of pain trying to take him into the sanctuary of oblivion. Gritting his teeth, he took a mildly deeper breath – irritating his side. "Have to ensure the Cylons ….have not prepared a trap." He took another breath, "Sensors can't penetrate."
"The other night at dinner with Lee, Kara and Dualla – you told Lee not to worry about it. What's your plan?" She asked, silently wishing she would have thought to ask the other night.
"Not ready…" He breathed out.
"The plan isn't ready…"
He shook his head, "No...Fleet."
"What's the plan?"
His breathing was getting more ragged, eyes beginning to lose focus. "Laura…I…" Turning to Cottle, "Need…few more …min.."
"Admiral your system can't handle another stimulant." Cottle responded.
Adama's eyes were half closed, the words were a faint whisper. "Fl…t not…s..ive."
"Bill?" She squeezed his hand, nothing. Roslin looking at Cottle, "Jack…." She shook her head, "I refuse to let us jump into the Astral Body without being prepared. He is a brilliant strategist. And whatever his concerns regarding the collaborators are valid. We need to know what he knows."
"The stimulant…."
She shook her head not wanting to hear, "Just give it to him."
He pulled out a syringe, injecting the fluid into his IV. Cottle stayed close to the bed, hoping Adama's body could withstand the drug coursing through his veins.
"Hey…" Laura said as Bill's eyes fluttered back open.
"Déjà vu…" He smiled, "listen…need you to know…" Penetrating blue eyes captivating her, "Ellen…collaborator…Tigh trustworthy…but he…slips on info…any info takes to quarters…she...reads. Have to separate…collaborators from…rest of Fleet."
"How?"
"Designate ship…look inside…" His breathing was becoming shallow as he continued. "Dark Day…mission plans…lists of collaborators…get Lee's list."
"Lee has a separate list?"
"Two parts…"
"Does he know about the mission?"
Bill shook his head, "No. Ask Kara. She'll deny…ask her…" Blue orbs latching onto hers, "Starbuck…what do ya hear?"
"Starbuck, what do ya hear?" She repeated. His eyes closed in relief, squeezing her hand to let her know she had gotten it. "Thank you, Bill….we'll manage thanks to your foresight."
Bill's voice softened, squeezing her hand. "You all right?" He asked, eyes fluttering open.
"Thanks to you." Laura replied, finally letting the woman out from behind the President, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. "You really had me worried."
"Said…I wouldn't…leave."
"You almost did." Her hand was shaking.
"Believe in us." He rasped, eyes pleading.
"I do." She whispered barely audible as his eyes drooped. She ran her hand across his check, "I love you Bill."
The muscles in his face brought forth a faint smile, "I love…you."
His eyes fell close as she spoke, "See you in a few days…until then; rest my love. Rest."
Laura Roslin sat at the edge of the bed for several minutes, not moving a muscle – as she watched his breathing level off; temporarily slipping further away from her. She sat merely memorizing the contours of his face, his hands, his body and thinking of how close she had come to losing him this afternoon. And it scared the hell out of her.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed; sorry for the length between updates.