For notes, warnings and disclaimers see chapter 1.

Chapter 37
(Laura's POV)

I am waiting for Bill, wondering what the frak is going on. Sure, things have been crazy since we managed to escape from New Caprica and I myself have been too busy trying to get back into the role of president and trying to undo the damage done by Baltar to give much thought to whatever it is that has been going on here on the Galactica lately, but not any more.

Oh, I'm still busy --that certainly hasn't changed-- but I am also determined to get to the bottom of this, especially because I am convinced that there is something going on, something I'm not being told... and I don't particularly enjoy being kept in the dark. Hell, in these past couple of weeks I've found Bill's XO in charge of the CIC more times than I did in all the months before we settled on New Caprica and more than once Captain Agathon has seemed almost reluctant to patch me through.

That is why I'm here... and it is also why I told Helo not to inform Bill of my arrival: I want an honest answer and I suspect that catching him off guard is the only way I'm going to get it.

I am still thinking about that when I hear the hatch open and I steel myself for what I suspect is going to turn out to be a rather unpleasant confrontation.

"Madam President," he greets me formally even as he tries to come to terms with my presence in his quarters.

"Bill," I reply, deliberately using his name and letting him know that I'm not here as the President of the Twelve Colonies and that I'm not looking for the Admiral of the Fleet either.

"Is there something going on?"

"Funny you should ask... especially considering that I was about to ask you the exact same thing."

"I beg your pardon."

"What is going on, Bill?" I prod, deciding that giving him a chance to collect his thoughts is not in my best interest here. This is a battle and I know I'm going to need every advantage I can get.

"Nothing," he replies, rather defensively.

"Nothing?" I repeat, not even trying to keep the disbelief out of my voice.

"It's personal," he finally says.

"You are the Admiral of the fleet, Bill, you don't get that luxury," I point out.

"Excuse me?"

"Whatever it is that is bothering you, it is affecting your performance and we simply can't afford that. I have spoken to Helo more in these past couple of weeks than I spoke to Tigh in all the months before we settled on New Caprica."

"Helo knows where to find me if he needs me... and he should have called me the moment you landed," he growls, sounding far from pleased.

"I asked him not to but that is not the point. So, would you mind telling me where you've been?"

"I already told you, that's personal."

"Don't give me that crap. Where were you?" I insist, not willing to back down even though I am well aware that trying to out-stubborn an Adama is bound to be a major challenge.

"Sickbay," he grudgingly admits.

"Are you okay?" I ask with a sudden sense of dread... especially because I suspect that 'sickbay' is not just the answer to where he's been today but also to the question of where he's been most of these past couple of weeks... and if there is one person this fleet can not afford to lose, it is Bill.

"Yes."

"And yet you seem to be spending an inordinate amount of time there lately. Now, seeing how I don't think you are doing it because you enjoy Cottle's company, would you mind telling me what is really going on here?"

"I made a mistake, a big one, and I've been trying to deal with the fallout, that's all," he growls.

"What kind of mistake?" I prod when he doesn't elaborate.

"You are not going to let this go, are you?" he asks, glaring at me.

"No."

"Fine. One of my officer's behavior was causing some friction among my crew and when I tried to address the situation I miscalculated and ended up pushing someone who was already on the edge over it."

"What happened?"

"Suicide attempt," he mutters after hesitating for a moment.

"I see, is he going to be okay?" I ask, though I still feel like I am missing something here, like there is more to this whole story than I am being told.

"Physically she is out of danger but..." he trails off.

"She?" I repeat, not liking where this is going.

"Yes."

"Kara?" I whisper as the pieces finally fall into place.

"How did you know?"

"Do I even have to answer that?"

"No, I guess not," he admits.

"And you didn't think I had a right to know?" I growl, feeling almost betrayed.

"What?"

"You are my friend, Bill, but so is she. You should have told me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't think."

"Didn't think is right," I mutter, still not willing to let it go.

"I didn't realize that you were that close," he points out in an obvious attempt to defend himself.

"We weren't but, in case you haven't noticed, New Caprica changed things... for all of us. When the cylons first attacked, when the colonies were destroyed, I had just been told that I had a few months to live and then a few hours after that I was thrust into the role of president with no warning whatsoever. I never had a chance to process any of it and then doing whatever it took to keep the fleet going, to lead our people to safety became my only purpose. Back then I had a whiteboard with a population count on it and I knew that the future of mankind depended on that number but in a way that number remained an abstract figure. While we were on the run I was isolated on Colonial One and the people I served were, for the most part, nameless and faceless... and then, for the second time in a matter of months, everything changed. All of a sudden I found myself in remission and almost immediately after that I lost the election and we settled on New Caprica. Let's just say that that gave me a brand new perspective."

"A new perspective?"

"Yes. Down there I was no longer 'The President', I was no longer isolated and I actually had a life to look forward to. Back on New Caprica I was just a school teacher. I had one year in which I was just another colonist trying to survive and, for the first time since the attacks, I had an opportunity to get to know the people I had been leading up to that point... and I made some friends, some good friends, along the way. Kara was one of those."

"I'm sorry."

"So, would you mind telling me what happened?"

"As I said, I miscalculated. Her attitude had been causing some problems, she was making what was already a bad situation worse and I gave her an ultimatum. I told her that she could either shape up or ship out. A few minutes later I got a call telling me that she was in surgery and that Cottle was not optimistic."

"But she is doing better now?"

"Physically. Emotionally... well, the truth is that she is still a mess and Cottle is not really sure of what to do about it. She may be on the mend but, seeing how right now the physical aspect of this is really the least of our worries, that doesn't really mean much."

"And the part you aren't telling me about?"

"Excuse me?"

"There is something you aren't telling me," I insist, not willing to back down.

"Maybe, but that's not my story to tell," he replies, looking more than a little uncomfortable.

"Fair enough," I agree, realizing that he has a point but also realizing that his reluctance to talk about it is not a good sign. "When can I see her?"

"Not now," he blurts out before explaining. "She was asleep when I left and... let's just say that today was a bad day."

"A 'bad day'?" I repeat, wondering just what he means by that.

"Yes. We needed some answers so we decided that the time had come for us to ask some questions."

"We?" I prod, growing increasingly frustrated with Bill's half-answers.

"Cottle, Lee and myself," he explains, rubbing his face and looking incredibly tired.

"That bad?" I ask, though I know better than to expect a real answer.

"Yes."

"So how are you handling it?"

"Me?"

"She is your daughter, Bill. Maybe not by blood but..." I trail off.

"I know but... I don't know... I really don't know," he admits, not really looking at me and something in the way he says that finally makes me realize just how worried he still is.