"Sit down, Laura." Elosha pressed a small cup of herb tea into her hands. "Billy said you were upset about something, but he didn't give me any details."
Roslin sat and took a revivifying sip of the warm liquid. "Thank you. That helps."
"Are you all right? Have you had another vision?"
She started to answer, then stopped and thought for a moment. "I'm honestly not sure, Elosha. How do you tell the difference between a vision sent by the Gods and an extremely intense—" gods, she'd almost said fantasy "—hallucination?"
Elosha considered. "I don't know if I can answer that question, Laura. By its nature, the vision experience is extremely subjective." She tilted her head to one side. "Did this seeing seem as real to you as your previous visions?"
Laura nodded. "Even more so, if anything. In addition to sights and sounds, there were ... tactile sensations." And scent, and taste... She shivered again.
Elosha's eyes tracked everything. "Why don't you describe it to me."
Laura took another swallow of tea and a deep breath. Then she described her experience in the most neutral, succinct terms she could find. She named no names and gave no identifying details.
To her credit, Elosha's eyebrows rose only fractionally. After Laura had finished, the Priestess took a sip of her own tea and seemed to be choosing her words. "This man in your vision ... did you recognize him? Is he someone you know?"
I knew that would be the first question. "Yes."
A longer moment of silence, then Elosha smiled. "But you have no intention of telling me who he is."
"No."
"I see." Another sip. "You've described what happened. Can you tell me what emotions you felt during this ... experience?"
Inwardly, Laura balked. "I ... I wasn't fighting what was happening, if that's what you mean."
Elosha raised one eyebrow and waited. The silence stretched.
"All right!" Laura snapped. "I was a willing and eager participant, okay? Are you satisfied!"
Elosha's expression went extremely bland. "My satisfaction is not at issue here.
"And no, that's not innuendo."
Roslin sighed and set down her cup. "I'm sorry, Elosha. This is just so different—my other visions were real, but not personal. This is ... incredibly personal. And I just don't know what to think."
"Understandable." Elosha gazed into the tendrils of steam rising from her cup. "Well, Laura, given the rather limited information available, I can only say this: If the Gods did indeed send you this seeing, then this relationship is important to them for some reason."
"'This relationship'?" Laura's eyes widened. "Elosha, there is no relationship. There can be no relationship!"
"Are you sure?" The dark face was imperturbable.
Laura stood, realized there was no room to pace and sat down again. "Is this what you're telling me? The Gods have sent this vision, so I must find a way to make it happen?" She was trembling again, but this time from anger. "In addition to leading our people to Earth, no matter what the cost to myself, I have to be forced into—Gods! Can I choose nothing for myself anymore!"
The Priestess shook her head. "The Gods cannot force us, Laura. They can only instruct, and guide, and hope we allow them into our lives."
"When their instruction and guidance takes the form of—of—well, it feels pretty damn forceful!"
"I know." Elosha's eyes shone with sympathy. "But think for a moment. If you had never received this vision, if all the complications and obstacles you see didn't exist, how would you feel about an intimate connection with this person then?"
Laura made a helpless gesture with both hands. "I can't just edit the complications from my thought processes, Elosha. They're there. They exist. And they're not going away ... especially the fact that, barring a miracle, anyone I make an intimate connection with is going to be bereaved in a matter of months!" She wrapped her arms around her middle.
"In other words, you don't want to start anything where someone is likely to end up hurt."
"Of course I don't!"
Elosha nodded slowly, looking at her hands in her lap. "That's fair, I suppose. I'm sure my husband didn't want to hurt me either."
Laura blinked. Elosha had sliced through her turmoil as with a knife. "Your husband?"
"Oh, yes. I was married at age 20. He was tall, hazel-eyed and had a smile warmer than an Aquaria sunset." Laura could still see that earlier 20-year-old in Elosha's own smile. "He was a marine biologist ... three years after we married, he was killed in a diving accident. We'd planned to have our first child that year."
"I'm so sorry." She felt tears welling at the personal tragedy, spoken in such quiet words.
Elosha shook her head. "The thing is ... looking at you and your situation, I have to wonder. If he could have seen his own fate when we met, would he have tried to protect me, to keep me from loving him so that I wouldn't be hurt?" Her voice was introspective and calming. "I think the answer would be yes. He had a kind and caring heart, just as you do."
She looked into Laura's eyes, drawing her into her gaze. "And then I have to ask myself: If I could have seen his fate, would I have let him protect me? Would I have been better off?"
Laura's reply was only just above a whisper. "I think I know your answer."
A single nod. "Yes, you do." Elosha reached out one hand. Laura placed hers in it. "Grief is the price we pay for love, Laura. Given the choice, I will always pick living grief over cold, dead might-have-beens. Always." She took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh.
"Perhaps this man — whoever he is – would make the same choice, were it placed before him. To love in spite of pain."
Laura dropped her eyes. "I don't ... know."
Elosha watched her. "Do you think he lacks the courage?"
"No." Never. But he's had so much pain already...
"Well..." Elosha gave Laura's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Things will happen as they will. I've probably given you more than enough to think about, but I do have one more question for you."
"Another one?" Laura's laugh was a trifle shaky.
"This one you don't have to answer, but you should think on it." Elosha reached out to capture Laura's other hand. "Who is there for you, Laura?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, while you're spending your strength trying to save the rest of us, who is there to give strength and comfort to you?"
"Well, there's you of course, and Billy—" Laura stopped. Elosha was shaking her head.
"You've become a dear friend to me, Laura, and I know Billy feels the same way. But he is the chief aide to the Colonial President, just as I am her spiritual adviser. We can't escape those roles. When all roles are stripped away ... who is there for you?" She gave a sudden, puckish smile. "For that matter—and think on this one very carefully—who is there for him?"
Laura was taken by a sudden suspicion. "You know exactly whom I've been talking about this whole time, don't you?"
She laughed. "I? No, I don't know. But I have, shall we say, a strongly-held suspicion." Her smile softened. "I've been your spiritual advisor for long enough today. Now I'm going to give you a piece of advice ... as your friend.
"You asked me earlier if you could choose nothing for yourself. I think, with this vision, the Gods are telling you to do exactly that." She squoze Laura's hands, then released them. "Choose something for yourself, Laura."
Elosha rose from her chair. Laura rose more slowly. "I'll tell you what we should do. I have a naming ceremony to officiate this afternoon on board the Cloud Nine, and you should come with me." She linked arms with Laura and led her into the corridor. "You don't give yourself nearly enough breaks from that office..."
By the time Laura returned to her office late that afternoon, she was calm and Presidential again. Common sense had reasserted itself, along with her sense of humor. It was all well and good for the Gods to send her vivid visions of ... interesting possibilities, but Commander William Adama still thought of her as a glorified schoolteacher at best and a dangerously unbalanced hindrance at worst.
If the Gods don't take him into account, they simply aren't going to get very far.
With that wry thought, she was smiling as she walked through the door and greeted Billy.
"Feeling better, ma'am?"
"Much better, Billy." She stopped at a sudden thought. "I've been meaning to ask, how are things with you and Petty Officer Dualla?"
"Fine. I'll be meeting her on board the Rising Star tonight, in fact."
"Really?" She smiled in relief as she sat down. "That's good. I was worried there might have been, well ... strains because of everything that's happened."
He grinned suddenly. "Ma'am, are you trying to apologize for letting politics impair my love life?"
"I suppose I am," she laughed. "Are you telling me they haven't?"
"Not really. Oh, it's not that we never argue, but she doesn't hold me responsible for you any more than I hold her responsible for the Old Man."
"Mm, sensible of you." Laura's smile turned wistful. "I'm so glad. I remember the two of you dancing last Colonial Day. You were so completely lost in each other. It was sweet."
"Well, actually ... um, funny you should mention that." Billy's face reddened slightly as he walked over and laid something on her desk. Surprised, Laura looked down at an envelope marked "Confidential". An open envelope, but then, Billy always screened her mail.
"I—um, I'm going to get some water. Be right back." And Billy vanished from the room.
Bewildered, Laura removed the contents from the envelope, read the brief cover note ... and saw the picture.
"Oh." Herself, in his arms, the two of them coming together to kiss and be kissed ... the picture melded with the vision, triggering a replay in her mind. Eyes closing, she sank back in her chair, one hand going to her forehead.
When she reopened her eyes, she cast them towards the ceiling, even though she knew full well that "up" has no objective meaning in deep space.
"You are really trying to hit me over the head with this, aren't you?" she sighed.