A Doubt onto Itself

Disclaimer: All Battlestar Galactica characters and places belong to Moore, Larson and Universal and are used without permission.
Pairing: Laura/Adama
Rating: Teen (damned MPAA!)
Spoilers: Flesh and Bone. This takes begins at the final scene between Roslin and Adama.
A/N: As with "Until Then", I held this back until I'd seen Tigh Me Up, Tigh Me Down.


"Hell of a risk you took today," Adama commented quietly. He glanced up at the woman sitting across from him. She was wearing her glasses, veiling her eyes. Dimly, he wondered if he really needed them or just used them as a convenient shield. He'd seen her reading numerous times without them.

"It was something I had to do," she replied softly.

Adama's eyes narrowed a bit. Something she had to do? When he'd heard that she'd gone over to the Geminon Traveler, he'd been shocked. And after he'd read the Marines' report about what had happened when she got there, shock didn't begin to cover the range of his emotions. The report was detailed and Adama found the blow-by-blow to be startling. He was angry that she's gone over there, taking such a great risk with her life. As he read further, he'd felt admiration that she'd been able to get the Cylon to talk at all. He'd been tense as he read about how Leoben Conoy had lunged at her, capturing her in a tight embrace. It had whispered something into her ear, something that had made her react. When she pulled away from it, she'd appeared unsettled and shocked. And then she'd ordered it put out the airlock. When Starbuck argued, the President held firm and the Cylon was blown out into space.

That had made Adama feel a bit of awe. According to the Marines' and Starbuck's reports, the President had not hesitated in destroying the Cylon once she'd gotten what she wanted from him – it-despite having promised that it would live. His estimation of Laura Roslin rose a few more notches. She definitely wasn't the out-of-her-depth schoolteacher he'd met three and half weeks ago. Not anymore.

Somewhere along the line, she had become a president.

And because of that, it wouldn't do for her to take unnecessary risks with her life. Adama had no doubt that Conoy could have snapped her in two before the Marines even got off a shot. He suspected she knew that, too, so he wasn't going to beat her over the head with how foolish it had been to get as close to the thing as she had. Regardless, he did want to know why she felt she had to go over there in the first place.

"Care to tell me why?" he asked.

"President Adar once said that the interesting thing about being a president is that you don't have to explain yourself to anyone."

She smiled at him after she said it and he could tell that wasn't going to tell him anything further and it was useless to push. He was beginning to be able to read her well; the things she said, what she didn't say and the subtle tones of her body language. Right now, she was radiating "Drop it"- vibes.

Inwardly, he chided himself for studying her too much.

Outwardly, he smiled and tipped his glass to her, acknowledging that she had a right to her secrets. For now.

Something passed across her face and even through her glasses, he could see that her eyes were troubled.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked.

And just as quickly, she covered herself with a mask. "No," she said shaking her head slowly. "Nothing at all."

The small, fake smile had returned. It was a sugary turn of her lips and it set his nerves on edge. There is was: the "politician polish" that he hated in her. He didn't know her well enough to know the exact purpose behind it, but he knew a stonewall when he saw one. He sighed and looked back into his glass. Maybe they needed a change of subject.

"Has the woman aboard the Arilon Way given birth yet?" The question was light and safe. He knew he'd chosen well at the way she relaxed. This time when she smiled it was completely genuine.

"No, not yet," the president said. "She's due any day, though."

"That would make two babies since we left," he said easily. "Not bad."

"You know, I went to see the baby that was born on the Rising Star last month." She plucked her glasses from her nose and took a drink of water. "Do you know what they named him?"

He shook his head.

"William."

Adama was surprised and a little pleased. "I hadn't realized."

She smiled at him softly. "I know. They said they did it because they want their son to grow up to be a great man, so they gave him a great man's name."

He could feel his cheeks heating. "I'm honored," he told her. "I'll try to make some time to get over there to see them."

"You don't have to –"

"I know, but I want to."

She nodded and seemed pleased with this. After a moment, she said, "Have you thought about how you're going to handle pregnancies among the crew?"

"There aren't any that I know of," he replied.

"Perhaps not yet, but eventually we're going to have to address the restrictions against fraternization. People need to be encouraged to come together if we're going to increase our numbers."

He grinned and couldn't help himself. "Is that what we're doing? Coming together?"

Her cheeks colored furiously but she recovered quickly enough. "Not yet."

The double entendre made a flame of lust ignite in his belly and he remarked to himself yet again how difficult it could be to keep up with her mercurial swings of temperament. It never ceased to amaze him how a woman so coolly composed on the outside could flip through emotions as rapidly as one would through wireless channels. Five minutes ago, she'd been aloof and troubled and hiding behind her political mask; now she was flirting and giving him a smile that he wanted desperately to kiss from her lips. It was maddeningly unpredictable.

But also fortuitously welcomed.

Abandoning his glass, he stood and walked around the table toward her. She looked startled as he approached and held out his hand. After a moment's hesitation, she took it and stood.

As always, she smelled like flowers and the scent enveloped him as he stepped in closer, still holding her hand in his firm grasp.

Her eyes widened and she felt the familiar thickening of the air around her. His hand was warm, almost hot, as it held onto hers and he was standing so close.

Leoben Conoy's words echoed faintly in her ear. Adama is a Cylon.

Rationally, Laura knew as soon as the thing had said it that it was a lie. In her heart, she knew it. She had felt it as much as she had felt that Baltar was somehow involved with the attack. Intellectually, it didn't even make sense. If William Adama was a Cylon, then what of Lee? Also, thus far, the Cylons' infiltration had been of people who weren't noticeable. Each of the two models they'd seen so far were nondescript individuals. Shelley Godfrey, if she was a Cylon, was remarkable to look at but even she was able to operate without drawing too much attention to herself. Wouldn't the commander of a Battlestar be too high profile? They would only be able to have one copy to avoid questions. And if Cylons had placed an infiltrator that high up in the military, that this Battlestar was the one to survive was too coincidental. No, it was all a lie. It had to be. It didn't make sense.

But … Adama is a Cylon.

Laura closed her eyes briefly and willed the voice away. Besides, she would feel if something were wrong with him, wouldn't she? Her instincts had always been remarkably good; even President Adar had commented about it. He'd often looked at her funny but that hadn't stopped him from being the happy beneficiary of her uncanny advice through the whole of his political career.

Lately, her feelings had been stronger, sharper and more certain. If Adama were a Cylon, Laura was absolutely confident she would feel it.

Or was it that she just didn't want to believe it because she wanted him so badly? Increasingly, he'd occupied her thoughts. Initially, the feelings that she had for him were purely physical – she found him to be magnetic. She enjoyed being in the room with him, even when they fought. Laura found herself staring at him almost every time she saw him. Her eyes would discover something new, some interesting feature of his face or a new expression. She'd been amused to discover that his left ear twitched when he squinted his eyes. She'd noticed how his lips pursed when he was thinking through a problem. She had admired his sure, confident stride, and the way his back was so straight when he stood at attention.

Though Laura was annoyed with herself for acting like an adolescent and allowing lust to cloud her judgment, she shivered at the soulful desire in his eyes and the feel of electricity bouncing between them. She swallowed hard and told herself again, that if anything was seriously amiss with the commander, she would feel it.

And right now, all she felt was the heat of his hand holding hers, the warmth of his body standing so close.

"Commander," she began, her voice soft, "I thought we'd decided that this was a bad idea."

He gave her a dark look that was full of desire. His free hand reached out to rest on her hip. He leaned in but she stopped him with both hands on his chest.

"You know this will have consequences," she reminded gently.

Adama pulled her closer until both of his hands rested at the back of her waist and they were nearly hip-to-hip. "I know," he said huskily. He moved his hands back to her front, seeking the clasps that held her jacket together.

"But you don't care," she observed wryly as his hands skillfully unbuttoned her jacket. He slid it down her arms and carefully laid it across the back of her chair. His hands returned to her waist. His nearness was making her heart pound. Desire was settling over her like a hot blanket. But she had to give them one last try to stop. "We won't be able to take it back," she whispered earnestly.

His right hand came up and cupped her behind the neck. "Do you want this, Laura?" His voice was husky – sexy – and some nutty part of her mind wondered if that was how he got his call sign. But then almost all thought flew out of her head as he leaned in just until their noses were touching. "Do you want this?" he asked again.

She breathed in his breath and closed her eyes.

Adama is a Cylon. The voice was faint, nearly washed out by the rush of blood through her ears. Her hands clenched the open sides of his uniform jacket. When had she opened his jacket? Her body had a mind of its own. Adama is a Cylon. The voice was faint, so faint. It was all lies anyway. Couldn't she afford to ignore lies?

So she closed the final distance between them.

She placed a kiss chastely on his weathered cheek.

When she pulled back she saw the hurt and confusion shining in his eyes before he closed it off. She noted to herself how well he did that, shuttering his feelings. Three weeks ago, she had found his near stoicism jarring and it had grated on her nerves that he could be so emotionally remote at the end of the world. Now that she knew him better, she understood his emotional depth better. She suspected that the well of his emotions could be deep enough to drown the entire fleet if he let it. No wonder he closed himself off. She had been doing a little bit of that lately as well.

And so the president carefully extricated herself from her commander's arms. She took a step back, maintaining eye contact. And because she was looking into his eyes, she could see his transition from hurt to anger, mask notwithstanding.

"Did I miss something?" he asked tightly.

Laura took a deep breath. "I think that, this… whatever it is that has been going on between us, is a mistake."

His eyes narrowed. "A mistake?"

Laura winced at the chilliness of his voice. "You and I need to remain objective in all things concerning the fleet." She paused, suddenly unsure of herself at the hard look in his eyes. "A personal relationship between us can – a personal relationship between us could cloud our objectivity about each other."

She paused again, thinking that at this point he might say something. But he remained silent. Coldly silent.

Fighting the urge to shiver, Laura pressed on. "As you know, there are times when we're not on the same side of an issue. If we were personally involved, we might find it difficult to disagree –" She knew that was a lie as soon as she said it but at this point, she was grasping at whatever straw she could fathom.

Adama apparently wasn't impressed with her explanation, either, as his expression impossibly became even harder. Laura decided that it might be prudent to just stop talking.

"Are you finished?" he growled.

She nodded once.

"Then get out," he said and turned his back as if he couldn't bear to look at her any longer.

Laura flinched, stung by his demeanor but recognizing that while his dismissal had been gruff, it was no less damaging than her rambling, ridiculous verbal "Dear John". Briefly, she wondered if she'd made a mistake. She hadn't expected to hurt him. They'd both discussed the consequences of a relationship between them, even if it was purely physical one. They had both talked of how it was a bad idea, even before Leoben Conoy had planted his poison seed.

But then, they'd both flirted and tempted each other. Her mind flashed to his body behind hers holding her hand; to her hands running down over his chest; to the soft skin off his neck and shoulders … The line had been so tantalizingly close on so many occasions and she had to admit that they had come to an agreement of sorts to move forward, to get it out of their systems. She was breaking their accord and for that she felt sorry, for more reasons than she was comfortable with.

Laura looked at him now, his broad back straight and stiff. With a sigh, she retrieved her jacket from where he had laid it across the back of her chair. She snagged her glasses on her finger and turned and left his cabin without a word.

As her footsteps echoed through Galactica's corridors, President Laura Roslin heard a voice in her ear. She tried to ignore it but the words came through anyway.

Adama is a Cylon.

End. For now.