Authors Note

Any misunderstanding in my story, please message me and ask.

Sorry this chapter took ages! Here we go!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.

Storage Locker 3#

Battlestar Galactica

Laura Roslin lay on the floor, her stomach flat against the metal panels beneath her.

I've got to get up, she decided with conviction. She was still weak from her injury, but she ignored it and slowly pushed her stomach off the floor.

Her hands slowly moved in front, the sound of her bracelet scraping against the metal echoing throughout the room. A groan weakly emanated from behind her, reminding Laura that she was not alone in this predicament. This elicited a frustrated cry from the president as her memory came back full force and reminded her who occupied the room with her.

I have got to get out of here now, she thought desperately, her shaking arms trying to push her body up into a sitting position. It took too many attempts for her liking, and her throbbing side demanded attention. Grimacing, Laura looked down at her blouse, but was greeted with the sight of no blood saturating it. By some miracle, the stitches had held, persevering through the events that had brought her here.

"Thank the Gods," she whispered reverently, slowly getting to her feet. Standing up was not a good idea she realised, however, when she stumbled, a wave of nausea hitting her. Clutching at the bulkhead, she pushed herself forwards, throwing herself towards the closed hatch. As she pulled desperately at the wheel, a small voice from behind her slurred;

"Thank God."

"Shut up." She snapped in reply, breathing heavily as she put all of her weight behind the wheel, pushing it, pulling it, hitting it. It refused to budge, taunting Laura, trapping her with Gaius frakking Baltar. It would be ages before anyone came looking for them. There was a battle going on after all. Roslin resigned herself to a long stay and moved over to a stack of boxes located on the other side of the room. Perching herself on the edge of one of them, she watched Baltar with mild amusement, flailing about on the floor.

Like a tortoise stuck on his back, she thought amusedly, taking off her glasses slowly and clutching them in her hand.

Baltar lay on his back, eyes closed shut as he desperately tried to push the feeling of pain in his knees away. His short breaths, accompanied every so often by a long drawn out "frak" were the only sounds in the room.

He couldn't be in a worse position. The president, currently watching him intensely from her position across the room, was indebted to him (not that she'd admit it of course, he thought bitterly) and he was stuck in a room with her, this Baltar-hating, drug-induced, airlocking loony.

"Just great." he murmured, his head hitting the floor beneath him in defeat. With slow deliberation, he pushed himself up, gritting his teeth at the sheer agony of moving his legs. They held, however, and allowed him both to stand up slowly and to copy Laura's movements and stumble towards the hatch. Laura merely smiled, tilting her head at the sight, entertained by his desperation to distance himself from her.

With a sigh, she decided the speak;

"I guess I should thank you." She said resignedly. She was met with silence as Baltar slowly turned to face her, surprise apparent in his expression, eyebrows raised and his mouth forming words yet no sound coming out.

She must have hit her head. Concussion makes people say the craziest things.

"What makes you think she's concussed Gaius?" A smooth voice purred in his ear, "maybe she is genuinely grateful." Caprica Six slowly smoothed the lapels down on his shirt, a smile flitting across her graceful features.

"Yeah," Baltar retorted quietly, "yeah and maybe she's the one true God also!"

"What?" both women asked in unison. Baltar winced, realising that Laura had heard, and stuttered as he tried to think up of something to say.

"I said that it was no problem Madam President." Baltar lied glibly, pushing gently at the door, pleading with it just to budge the slightest bit, to give him just that tiny slither of hope. No such luck.

Caprica Six and Laura Roslin both watched him work, amusement evident on both of their faces.

"Aren't you going to sit? We're going to be here for a while. Go on, sit." Roslin indicated to the boxes scattered around the room. Baltar turned around, folding his arms across his chest, a look of annoyance on his face.

"I really think that-"

"Let me re-phrase that Gaius," Laura overrode his protest, her voice cold and firm, "you are going to sit. SIT." She ordered, her voice soaring across the room. He jumped in reply and felt Caprica Six's soft hands on his shoulder, gently pushing him down onto a box by the hatch.

"Now, now, play nicely," she whispered softly into his ear, her hands caressing his shoulder blades. He complied, relaxing at Caprica's ministrations, "you like controlling women don't you Gaius?"

Realising what she had said and what she was implying, Baltar's eyes flew open in shock, "what!? No!"

"What?" Laura asked sharply, curious as to what pulled that from him. His attention, however, was fixed on a point above his shoulder, so she persisted with the questioning, "what?"

It seemed to work, and Baltar's head quickly swivelled around to meet the president's questioning gaze. He started to fluster slightly, desperately searching his mind to what he had said;

"Err, no … no-one is going to come looking for us for a while, are they?"

"No I assume not," She replied slowly, her expression not changing at Baltar's apparent save. She decided to get to the bottom of this, "so this gives us a nice amount of time to talk. Now you were talking to someone just now, weren't you?" Laura Roslin wasn't a stranger to visions, but this was something different. He actually had someone in his mind, standing behind him, he must have. For the length of time she had known him, Laura knew that there was something about this man. Most of the time, she feigned ignorance, placed it down to his genius status. She'd had enough however, and wanted to know what the frak was really going on in that mind of his.

"What makes you say that?" Baltar asked, forcing laughter out, "must be that chamalla again Madam President, you're not well and-"

"It was an assumption." Laura replied coldly, placing her glasses back on her face, gauging his expressions.

"Well to 'assume' is to make an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me' and-"

"Don't frak with me." She wasn't letting him get out of this one. Her stern expression promised Baltar a lot of suffering if he didn't answer her questions to her satisfaction.

"She's on to you Gaius, careful now," Caprica Six whispered, her attention solely focused on the irate president. There was no smile on the cylon's face however, and her voice was tinged with warning, "she wouldn't hesitate to see you in pain to get what she wants."

"Well that's good to know," Baltar stated sarcastically, "yeah big thanks there!"

"Is it a Six?" Laura asked smoothly, cottoning on to the conversation. He couldn't possibly keep denying it now, "you have always had a … connection … with that particular model. She left her own to be put in the brig over here for you."

"If you want to put me on trial again for something else I haven't done, then please do carry on your line of questioning. Drug-induced witnesses go down so well in court these days."

Laura Roslin just nodded, a hum of agreement emanating from the back of her throat. Her eyes lacked their usual glint, just cold and dull now looking at Gaius. She broke eye contact with him and stood up slowly, arms folded as she walked away. She was shrouded in darkness, her back leaning against the bulkhead, the furthest away she could get from him.

"Dr Baltar, my cancer has returned," she said softly, her voice holding no self-pity, no emotion at all, "now that may mean absolutely nothing to you, and I don't expect it to, but it doesn't take away from the fact that it is there, inside me, right now."

Baltar was rendered speechless, unsure as to what to say at a moment like this. It didn't look like she was letting up. Laura Roslin had a point with every speech, and she was getting to it.

"It's taking my life away, and I'm currently undergoing Diloxin treatment to stop it. Have you ever had Diloxin treatment Dr Baltar?"

Baltar shook his head slowly, captivated by the power and vulnerability coming from her stance, her voice.

"Nausea, hair loss, weariness, I could go on and on."

"I'm sorry Madam President, I-"

"I don't want your pity Gaius. I want answers, and I want them before the worst happens. Now I could get better, yes, but there is also the chance that I could not. If that's the case, I want answers from you before I am rendered speechless, unable to talk, unable to listen. I want these answers now, not on a deathbed."

She was met with silence, as Baltar went over her speech in his head.

"The woman you were with before, on Caprica, is it her?" Laura asked, slowly moving forwards, "I saw you two together. You and a Six model, right before the Colonies were attacked. Did she manipulate you? Did she cause you to give her information? Information that only you would have access to? Information that could cause a Cylon invasion and the defences to just stop working?"

Baltar couldn't answer. No words could save him now. Denying it would just flare her anger again and by telling the truth, he was admitting to mass genocide and gaining a one-way ticket through the airlock.

"Tell me!" Her voice soared, ringing out into the silence. Baltar just stared, unsure what to do.

Laura placed a shaking hand over her mouth, biting back a wave of nausea that hit her. Baltar sensed this, slowly and uneasily getting up off the box to walk over to her.

"Laura I-"

Laura took a step back, shaking her head at him. She didn't need his help, his sympathy. She needed to get out of here, away from this man, before she did something she really regretted.

"Oh for fraks sake! I try to help!" Baltar turned around angrily, walking over to some boxes, "If someone doesn't help me, I'm going to go frakking insane!!"

"Madam President?!" A distant voice called out, from behind the hatch. Roslin opened her eyes, focusing steadily on the only way out of the room. She slowly gathered her presidential façade and walked briskly over, not letting her desperation to get out show.

"Yes?" She replied, standing back suddenly as the hatch groaned and creaked. Slowly, it opened and she found herself looking into the concerned, kind face of-

"Corporal Venner." She whispered reverently. The man had helped her escape from the brig, had brought her medicine, had defied his own orders for her. She couldn't be happier to see him.

"Yes ma'am," he said, smiling in pride that she had remembered his name, "it's lucky that the hatch only had debris in front of it. Thank the vipers outside for that."

"No," She replied, shaking her head, "thank the gods. Take me to CIC please Corporal."

She didn't look back as Venner guided her down the corridor. Baltar remained in the storage locker, his back against the bulkhead, a single tear slowly running down his cheek.

"What's wrong Gaius?" Caprica Six asked, bending down in front of him, her hands caressing his face and wiping the tear away.

"How long before she finds out? How long can I keep it to myself?" He asked aloud.

"You haven't had a problem with that before."

"Times are changing, and I have to change along with them." Suddenly, with conviction, Baltar stood up.

"Would God let me repent my sins?"

"Yes." Caprica Six replied, smiling slowly.

"Then that's what I'll do."

A/N

Not a Roltar comedy moment I know, but I figured a Roltar moment would be nice none-the-less. I'm sorry for the delay, I know it's been a while! All grammatical errors and spelling mistakes are my own, and reviews are much appreciated!