Title: Error in Judgment; Part 4: Still Standing

Author: Grace O'Malley PG-13

Word count: 2,194

Characters: K, R

Archiving: The more the merrier, but please let me know so I can provide any corrections and/or additional parts.

Disclaimers: Not my world; not my characters :sigh:

Spoilers: "Colonial Day" and "KLG1"

"You know, all of those years, I watched you. Working with Adar, you were always so quiet, so polite. So dignified. I never thought you'd fit in with the bare knuckle, backstabbing politicians. I guess I was wrong." -- Wallace Gray in "Colonial Day."

Frak, frak, frak, was all Kara could think as she sprinted into the nearest stall without looking left or right. Her last-minute timing was impeccable, as always, and she managed to aim her stream of vomit into the toilet bowl.

When she finally finished heaving, she strode to the sink and started rinsing out her mouth, still not daring to check if she were alone. At least, she thought with more than a little self-loathing, it's gotten rid of the taste of Baltar's--

"Lieutenant Thrace, are you all right?"

Frak, Kara thought. How much more humiliating can this night get? She turned off the running water and braced her hands against the sides of the sink. "Madam President... Oh Gods, I'm sorry."

Roslin looked at her with concern. "Oh, no, don't say that. You've nothing to apologize for. Are you feeling better now? A little too much celebrating?" She smiled indulgently at Kara, then creased her forehead before adding, "Or should I send for a medic?"

"The former. Gods." Kara felt herself flush and waved a hand aimlessly in front of her face. "I'm fine. I just need to clean up."

"Here, let me give you a hand." Roslin wetted a couple of towels, and came closer to scrutinize Kara closely. She held up a towel and caught Kara's eye by way of asking permission to touch her face.

Kara nodded, not thrilled, but even more not wanting to face her fellow pilots--to face Lee--until she looked a bit less like she'd been rolling in a gutter.

When Roslin came closer, Kara could smell the freshness of clean skin, a light touch of some subtle perfume, and a scent in her hair that Kara recognized but couldn't quite place. Laura Roslin was the sort of woman, Kara reflected sourly, who never sweated or farted, and who absolutely never got stinking drunk, frakked the totally wrong guy, and puked her guts out in public toilets. Only then did it occur to her to wonder what the President was doing, all alone in the middle of the night, in one of Galactica's communal heads.

"Uh, Madam President, I didn't know you were on board. Where's your security?"

As Roslin continued to dab at Kara's face, Kara had the chance to look back just as hard at the older woman. She looked tired, which was no surprise, and her cheeks were a bit flushed--as if she'd been for a run. But Roslin didn't seem like the running type, and certainly not in her suit and high heels.

Roslin paused in her dabbing and gave Kara one of her best politician smiles. "Well, Lieutenant, I thought you were my security. And...here...you are!"

"Shall I escort you to your shuttle?" Not that she wanted to, but Kara felt duty bound to make the offer.

"In a few minutes, yes, thank you, I would appreciate that."

Roslin hadn't offered any explanation for why she was there, and while Kara had never been much of one for protocol, or even manners, it was obvious a blunt question wouldn't do. There wasn't much in this part of Galactica except for private quarters--Baltar's quarters, Tigh's quarters, the Old Man's quarters...

Studying her handiwork on Kara's face, Roslin remarked, "Much improved, I think. Pity about the black eye."

Kara felt her skin grow warm, and then kicked herself mentally for feeling ashamed of not being a "lady." At least I'm not soft and useless, she thought, fit only for decoration or...politics...ugh.

"Oh no," said Roslin, evidently in response to Kara's color. "Please don't think I'm making light of what you did--flushing out that assassin. You saved my life--you and Captain Adama."

"Thank you Ma'am," she mouthed obediently.

"No, Lieutenant, thank you. And may I say you look lovely tonight. You deserve more opportunities to dress up and show off."

"I don't know, Ma'am." Kara didn't feel "lovely," and the dress was significantly askew. It was pretty frakking obvious she'd ripped it off and then climbed back into it in a hurry. "The dress is okay, but what sadist invented high-heeled shoes?"

The President laughed at Kara's joke. Or at least she pretended to. "I don't know the answer to that one, but if we find out, I'll help you put him out an airlock."

Airlock, thought Kara, and cringed. No, this woman was definitely not soft. No one soft could have done what she did to Leobon Conoy without so much as a backward glance. Kara had never been too sure what Lee saw in the President, but Lee listened attentively to her opinions and seemed to regard her with something like awe. When Kara looked at Laura Roslin, she saw an aging woman who was out of her depth, but who compensated by always being perfectly groomed and never raising her voice. She couldn't fly a viper or throw a punch. Yet a Cylon spy didn't frighten her. And Kara knew she'd butted heads with the commander on a number of occasions, and often...won. Nobody else had ever done that. Which was probably exactly what Lee saw in her.

"So I guess you've been celebrating too?" Kara decided to try probing, though she didn't kid herself about having a talent for subtlety. She guessed there might have been a quiet after-party drink and a chat with the commander. That would be reasonable and perfectly innocent.

"Hmm?" said Roslin, as if she didn't know what Kara was getting at.

"Colonial Day. Victory over that creep, Zarak. Drinking to the success of your new Vice-President. You deserve a celebration more than any of us. I'd rather face a dozen Cylon raiders on my own than have worn your shoes for the past couple of days." The last bit kind of popped out, and Kara thought she might have gone too far.

"Ah." Roslin stepped back and examined the results of her efforts. "Your make-up's repaired. Hmm. Fluff the hair a little?"

"Do your worst, Ma'am."

Since neither of them had a comb, Roslin used her fingers to tease out the knots and restore Kara's hairstyle to some approximation of what it had been earlier in the evening.

"Well," said Roslin, "I hope I haven't rescued us from the frying pan only to land us in the fire. Dr. Baltar has some unique abilities, which we need very badly--including the ability to charm the media. However, I don't fully trust him and neither does Commander Adama. And neither should you." The last was delivered blandly but with significant eye contact.

"Trust him?" Kara jumped back in alarm, and tried to cover her dismay by checking herself in the mirror. "Hey, I don't even like the guy."

"Good. I think that's best. I really do."

Frak, thought Kara. Frak, frak, frak, frak. She knows...

Roslin turned her attention back to Kara's hair. "There, what do you think?"

Kara exhaled in relief that she no longer looked like the town drunk, but mostly resembled herself--the cleaned up version--again. "Much better, thank you, Ma'am."

Roslin smiled, then turned to examining her own face in the mirror. "I think we're just about ready to appear in public." The President stepped back to check her clothing, and unbuttoned her jacket to adjust the collar of her blouse.

Kara caught a glimpse of something that looked like a bruise low on Roslin's throat, and thought she must have imagined the President muttering, "Frak," under her breath.

Nah, thought Kara. That would just be too weird.

The collar rearranged, Roslin re-buttoned her jacket, and tugged it into place. "Okay," she said. "If you'd be kind enough to escort me to my shuttle, I'll be on my way."

"Of course, Ma'am."

They got as far as the entrance to the port flight pod with few encounters and minimal conversation. But then Kara's luck ran out.

"Chin up, Lieutenant," Roslin said for Kara's ear alone. "Here comes Captain Adama."

Kara thought she might be sick again.

"Madam President." Lee smiled and dipped his head to Roslin. Then he looked at Kara with an expression somewhere between annoyance and appreciation. "Lieutenant, I've been looking for you for over an hour. Where have you been?"

"I--" Kara tried to think fast. For all her many talents, she was a crap liar and she knew it.

To her amazement, Roslin came to the rescue. "I'm sorry, Captain, but I'm afraid that's all my fault. I needed to take care of a couple of things here before heading back to Colonial One, and I high-jacked the Lieutenant to...well...to keep me from getting lost. Galactica is still something of a maze to me. I hope that's not a problem."

The excuse was pretty lame, but it was clear from Lee's face that he'd bought it without question. Maybe it was Roslin's quiet air of authority. Or maybe it was the dazzling smile. Kara didn't care. Thank you thank you thank you, she thought, not caring to examine the reasons why the President would chose to cover her sorry ass.

"No problem at all, Madam President." Lee had a pretty dazzling smile of his own.

Damn him.

"Lieutenant, as soon as the President is on board her shuttle, I want you to get to your rack. Big day tomorrow--you've got a lot of work to do on your pet raider."

"Yeah, I know, L--Captain."

"Good."

Smug bastard.

"I'll see you in the morning, Lieutenant."

Frak you. She saluted and smiled at him--as sweetly as she could manage.

Roslin waited for Lee to move out of earshot, watching him as he greeted the on-duty pilots and crew. As always, he was polite and correct, never quite crossing over to friendly. "Is he much like his brother?"

Kara felt all the blood drain from her face. Her nausea came back, threatening to have her down on her knees, retching into the nearest drain.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Roslin flushed and furiously backpedaled. "I didn't think. Please forgive my stupidity."

"No," said Kara. "It's okay. Just took me by surprise is all." Zak, she thought. Oh, dear Gods, Zak... Lee... Baltar... Lords of Kobol, please open up a small breach in the hull, just large enough to suck me out into space where I can die right now. "And the answer is no, they're nothing alike."

Roslin looked at her, clearly hoping for more; just as clearly not about to press.

"Zak was..." Kara spread her arms helplessly. "Larger than life. So sure of himself. Made you want to believe he could do anything. Even...even when he couldn't." Her grief for him might hit her less frequently these days, two years and a lifetime after his death, but it was no less painful for all that. "Lee, on the other hand--"

"Is wound up so tight that if he ever explodes, we'll be observing the birth of a new solar system at close hand."

Kara nodded in agreement with the President's assessment. "Yeah. That about sums it up."

Roslin nodded. "I hope you don't mind my saying so, Lieutenant, but I don't think you're chasing a ghost."

Kara said nothing. The woman was too damn perceptive. It was almost worse than having Leobon Conoy crawling around inside her head.

"...And you've no reason to punish yourself."

This had to stop. Being cornered, whether by Cylon raiders or a too-clever superior officer, always cleared Kara's head and sent her leaping ahead of her opponent. Something nagged at her, and she let her instincts add up the column of coincidences. The cozy dancing at the party. Roslin's presence in a part of the ship housing nothing but senior officers' quarters. The bruise on Roslin's throat. Cheeks flushed from exertion. The scent in Roslin's hair that reminded Kara, not of something familiar, but of someone familiar. Her eagerness to lie to Lee to give Kara an alibi for her whereabouts.

Frak me, Kara thought, It's not my ass she was anxious to cover. She laughed out loud.

"Lieutenant?"

"Nothing, sorry." Kara bit her lip, then grinned. "I just wanted you to know that you can totally count on my discretion, Madam President." But if you frak with him, you'll be answering to me.

For a brief moment, Roslin actually looked flustered, but the moment passed almost before it had begun. "Thank you, Lieutenant, that's good to know. And, of course, you can count on mine."

"Ma'am."

"I'll wish you a good night then, Lieutenant. I can manage the rest of the way on my own. You'd best get some sleep, like Captain Apollo said."

"Thank you, Ma'am. And good night to you too."

Kara watched Roslin pick her way across the pod deck to her shuttle. One thing's for sure, Kara thought, not without a certain amount of admiration. I'm never gonna play cards with that bitch.

The End