The ancients called the winter holiday of Saturnalia 'the best of days.' The day was celebrated enthusiastically on each of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol; the pious visited their temples, families went to festive markets, and children enjoyed the revelry and gift giving. Almost the whole Colonial Fleet had the holiday off. Battlestars docked in shipyards, maintained by skeletal crews. Soldiers and government workers alike enjoyed their holiday respite and journeyed home.

One soldier crossed the threshold of his house, hoping for a warm welcome after being away. Bill's last mission had required almost complete radio silence, so he and Laura hadn't spoken since their fight.

"I'm home!" he called, shutting the door behind him and shrugging out of his military issue wool winter jacket. He grinned when he heard the pounding of footsteps and saw Liam barreling into the foyer and making a run straight for him. An almost cartoonish powdery cloud was left in his wake.

"Daddy!" he squealed, jumping into his father's outstretched arms.

"You are getting too big for this," Bill chuckled, kissing his boy's cheek. "Where's mom?"

"Kitchen. We are making Saturnalia cookies." Bill looked down and sighed. They were now both covered in what he realized was flour; that explained the cloud. He set Liam down before heading in Laura's direction. Cheerful holiday songs drifted from a radio in the kitchen, and Bill's heart hammered in his chest. He entered the room and saw Laura at the oven checking what was inside.

"Laura," he said, and he had to remind himself to keep breathing when her eyes met his.

"Bill!" A huge smile broke across her face. Before he could even blink, she'd crossed the space between them and had thrown herself into his arms.

"You're happy to see me," Bill noted, relieved that their fight seemed long forgotten.

"You're damn right I'm happy. Now, if you aren't kissing me in the next five seconds, we're going to have words," she promised. Her hands already tangled in his hair, pulling him down to her. Bill wasn't inclined to protest her enthusiasm. When they separated both were breathless.

"Missed you," he murmured.

"Me too," she hummed. "Love you."

"About time. Now unless you want me to drag you upstairs right now…" he rasped quietly in her ear. He felt Laura giggle.

"I wouldn't complain, but the kids are around," she said, pulling back to nod at where Liam was peeking through the oven window. He looked up eagerly at his parents.

"Are they ready yet?" he asked, and Laura smiled, stepping out of her husband's arms and moving over to Liam.

Bill took a moment to relax and breathe. The delicious smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air as Laura pulled Tauron cinnamon cookies from the oven. It brought back memories of Evelyn and Ruth Adama backing during the holidays, and him sneaking into the kitchen to steal the dough.

"I found these in your Tsattie's recipe book," Laura explained when she saw his wistful look. "The other kids are in the yard. Why don't you go say hi and tell them the cookies are done?" Bill nodded but couldn't resist pecking Laura on the lips once more; his perfect wife made his grandmother's cookies after all. Moving toward the sliding glass doors, he gazed at the snow covered back yard. He chuckled when a snowball whizzed past followed by a shriek of laughter. Three bundled individuals were engaged in an all-out war, and his eyes widened in surprised at the realization of who the third figure was – Kara. Laura must have asked her over.

It was good to be home.

…

Every Saturnalia morning was a magical time. For the Adamas, there was an intense sense of peace along with a special sense of excitement and joy. Laura and Bill were especially content during the holidays; it gave them a chance to relax and enjoy time together while watching over their children. It was euphoric.

Bill and Laura were sound asleep in their bed; they didn't hear the bedroom door creak open or the pitter-patter of little feet. They were abruptly jostled awake when Liam jumped onto their bed, pouncing on his parents.

"Mom, Dad! It's time to wake up!" he proclaimed. Laura buried her head under her pillow.

"Liam, what have we said about waking us up so early," she moaned. Bill chuckled, waking up more easily due to his military life. He sat up and pulled Liam into his lap, tickling his son who laughed and squirmed.

"This is what silly boys who wake up their mothers get!" Bill teased. Laura held the pillow over her head even tighter and didn't hold back her groan. She'd stayed up late wrapping presents.

"Mom, Dad, is it alright to be awake?" Zak asked in a rough voice, poking his head into their room.

"Can we go downstairs for presents?" Liam begged. Bill chuckled and ran a hand down his wife's back lovingly.

"It's no use, Laura. It's Saturnalia morning, and the children are awake," he said.

"Alright, alright. Don't open presents until everyone is downstairs though," she conceded, her voice muffled from beneath the pillow. Liam cheered and bounded off the bed, announcing that he was going to wake Lee and Kara. Laura sat up and stretched, brushing her unruly hair back. In the hallway they heard the two oldest grumbling and emerging from their rooms, Kara having stayed in the guest room. Lee muttered something about coffee.

"Happy Saturnalia, love," Bill grinned, and leaned over to kiss his sleepy wife. They rarely used terms of endearment, and Bill only used them when his feelings were particularly intense. Laura smiled at her husband's affection and good mood. He loved Saturnalia.

Together they made their way downstairs to where the younger ones were eyeing the presents on the table.

"Mama Adama certainly went all out," Kara muttered. Not only was there a pile of presents, but the house completely decorated. Candles flickered in every window. Sparkling glass icicles hung from wintergreen garlands decked around the house. Kara herself had cut out the paper snowflakes dangling from the ceiling after Laura had insisted that she get in the spirit. Socrata Thrace didn't celebrate the holidays and got especially cranky and profane when holidays came around. Secretly, Kara was excited and nervous to experience a real Saturnalia morning.

Settling down on the couch, Bill nodded at Liam and the young child began passing out presents. Soon enough each person had their own pile of blue and silver parcels they were opening. By the end of the morning Kara was sitting cross legged on the floor examining her new canvases, paints, and paintbrushes. Zak and Lee were playing a game of chess on Lee's new board. Liam was alternating between trying to provoke each of his siblings by throwing bits of wrapping paper at them and reading one of his new books. Bill and Laura snuggled on the couch watching over the kids until they exchanged their own presents.

"You're like a small child!" Laura teased Bill who fiddled with his new model shipbuilding kit. He laughed; his joy at Saturnalia morning caused the years to melt away from his face, and Laura saw him as an almost young man with few cares. She was content to watch him play with his toy, but he finally set it down and took a deep breath. His mood shifted into the familiar serious demeanor that she knew, and he handed Laura a small box. She unwrapped her gift slowly, noting how unusually fidgety her husband was. She pulled out a necklace of onyx with a symbol on the pendant.

"Onyx is the Tauron gift for the seventh year of marriage," he explained.

"What does the symbol mean?" she asked, tracing it with her finger.

"It's old Tauron. There is no exact match in Colonial Standard," he said, tugging on his ear as Laura looked at him curiously. "It's…" he cleared his throat and looked Laura in the eye. "It's usually translated as soulmate. On Tauron, it's rare for the symbol to be exchanged and only ever given to one person," he explained. Laura's breath caught in her throat, and she was rendered speechless. Her visions blurred from her gathering tears, so she handed the necklace to Bill and lifted her hair, and he clasped it around her neck.

"Thank you, Bill," she whispered, laying back against his chest and letting him wrap his arms wrap around her. She traced the symbol on the pendent again and knew it represented the truth of what she and Bill were to each other. Whatever their destiny might hold, they walked the path together.

…

Days later, the Saturnalia spirit lingered around the Adama's house. The air smelled of cinnamon, clove, and nutmeg. The group which gathered in the living room was somber, and each of them nursed a mug of Caprican spiced wine to help them relax. Despite the warm comfort the drink offered, they found it hard to swallow while their stomachs were churning. They constantly shifted around in their seats. All of them were filled with an ill sense of foreboding but tried to force themselves not to accept it consciously.

After all, they were the Colonials who remembered; Laura Roslin, Bill Adama, Kara Thrace, and Sherman Cottle. The four of them were like a little war council convening before going into a great battle. Each of them shared the work they'd been doing. Bill Adama recounted meeting Cavil; he picked up on the hints of despair from the group at the firm knowledge that the worst Cylon knew the future. He tempered the news of Cavil with reports of contacts on the Colonies and throughout the Fleet. It was an arsenal of favors and pilots which could be used when the moment was right.

When he was done, Cottle spoke up and reported on the stockpiles of medications and supplies he'd created with Adama's help. It was delicate and slow-going work, but they were starting to feel well prepared. Their backup plans were going well for if the attacks happened, but their primary goal was preventing the attacks.

They all looked at Laura. She took the packet of papers she'd been cradling to her chest and laid it down on the table.

"All the information we can give to Adar," she said, gesturing to the report. "Everything he'd need to stop the attacks."

"Will he believe you?" Kara asked, biting at her lip.

"No matter what, its gonna sound like the biggest load of bullshit," Cottle muttered.

"I've spent time laying the groundwork for this," Laura promised. "Richard will listen, but I should talk to him alone first. He's been in office a month now, and things are settling down. It's time," she sighed, and Bill reached a hand over to cover hers.

"He'll be an even bigger moron than I gave him credit for if he doesn't listen," Bill said, injecting some levity into the moment.

...

The next day, Laura made an appointment with the Office of the President for the end of his workday. The excited expression Richard kept shooting while the government met assured Laura that the man had the wrong idea about what was going to happen. Laura's constant fidgeting and nervousness was not helping.

In the early evening Bill, Kara, and Jack arrived as planned and sequestered themselves in Laura's office. They wished their old leader well, and Laura smiled at her support and back-up. Double checking that she had their report, she took a deep breath and checked her watch. President Adar would be expecting her any moment.

"Good hunting," Bill said, and his tone was strong and confident. He looked Laura in the eye and gave her a firm nod, telling her without words that he had no doubts in her powers of persuasion. He believed she'd convince Adar, and his faith bolstered her own.

…

The President's office was designed to denote the almost absolute power of the person occupying it. The sharp and crisp contrast between the black and white marble on the floor portrayed wealth and elegance. The large matte gold emblem of the Presidential Office behind the desk radiated authority. The lack of chairs for anyone other than the President to sit in implied superiority; only one person was supposed to relax within these walls.

Richard rose from that solitary chair behind his desk when Laura walked into the room, moving to shut the door behind her. They were alone. He greeted her warmly, placing his hand on the small of her back and guiding her further into his space. They moved over to his desk which he leaned against. He smirked at her.

"You've seemed nervous all day, Madame Secretary. I hope there is something I can help with," he teased, letting her new title roll off his lips with extra emphasis. Laura closed her eyes and forced herself to stay calm.

"Actually, there is, Mister President," she replied, and shifted nervously. "I need to talk to you, Richard. I need to tell you something, and it's going to be hard to explain or accept. But I need you to hear me out until the end," she said, her tone pleading but firm. Richard frowned in concern; he could tell Laura was troubled, and his instinct was to help her.

"Alright," he replied, nodding and acquiescing to her condition. He watched Laura take a deep breath and run a hand through her hair; she was nervous. Richard didn't see her agitated very often, and he grew concerned. "Laura, you can tell me anything."

"You've asked how I always seemed to be two steps ahead of everyone?" Laura asked, plunging forward and listing instances when she'd used her knowledge of the future. There were countless times she'd predicted events and situations. In fact, there were many instances when Richard had used that knowledge to his advantage. His frown deepened as he listened to the many coincidences.

"You've had an uncanny ability to predict political fortunes. An ability I've found tremendously useful," he admitted, folding his arms.

"It's more than luck," Laura said, saying a prayer to the Lords of Kobol that she was about to do the right thing.

"What?"

"I have a story to tell you. And remember, you promised to listen until the end," Laura replied, and eyed her friend until he gave her a nod. Licking her lips, she took the plunge. "You are going to be elected for a second term as President, and both of your terms will be relatively smooth with some minor problems here and there. Aerilon strikers stir up some problems, and some Sagitaron extremists will cause civil unrest when Tom Zarek refuses your parole offer," she explained, and as she continued Richard' eyes narrowed. He hadn't even discussed his desire to offer Zarek a parole with his own Vice President yet. His heart raced. How could she know his plans? Despite his confusion and growing unease, Laura continued speaking. She mapped out a future he could easily picture but spoke like it was guaranteed deal.

Laura paused suddenly. She looked up at the ceiling and shook her head before whispering a date. Her voice cracked.

"On that date, everything changes," she whispered. "The Cylons return. They return and commit an almost total genocide of the Colonies. Of humanity. They subvert the Colonial Defense Network and launch an all-out nuclear attack on each planet. Billions die. A handful, 50,000 people and one Battlestar, survive. They run as far and as fast as they can," she asserted in a shaky voice that continued to paint a bleak and miserable picture for Adar. He looked horrified.

Richard felt sick. He pushed away from his desk, pacing away from Laura and her crazy and terrible story. Opening his mouth, he was about to snarl at her to stop spinning her wild tale, but her sad green eyes caused the words to stick in his throat. There was something in her expression he'd never seen before; fear. Richard realized several bleak truths; Laura was rational and pragmatic but fully believed the story she was telling him, and, in his experience, she'd never been wrong. His shoulder's slumped, and he felt his world spin.

"I know all this because I remember it, Richard. As crazy as that sounds, I remember it all. I woke up almost eight years ago on Picon with these memories of the future. Only one other person remembered anything like I did, and things have happened as we knew they would. I've known for years that you'd become the President. After you were elected, I'd planned on telling you this story no matter what. I've been right about so much; you know I'm telling the truth."

Richard Adar moved toward one of the office's large opulent windows which offered a view overlooking Caprica City. His capitol city was glorious and glistening in the fading light. A monument to humanity. His head pounded.

"Laura," he groaned almost pleadingly.

"I know. I know. I don't have explanations for how or why," she sighed. For a moment both were silent. "Richard…look at me," she whispered, her tone desperate. He slowly turned and met her gaze; the intensity of it had him spellbound. "Believe me," she urged. He'd never heard her plead with him like that before.

"It's a lot to take in, Laura!"

"I know. But it's the chance to save billions of lives."

"Because my Secretary of Education claims to know the future? Let's be clear on what you are telling me. You've seen the future."

"Well, I'm not sure that's what I'd tell people. In fact, no one needs to know about my knowledge. But, yes. That's what I am saying. And I'm telling you that there are billions of people you can save," she said, playing to his ego. "There are subtle things that can be done, things that you can do as president. And one of the things about being the President is you don't have to explain yourself to anyone," she pushed. Richard felt ice run through his veins and turned to look at her.

"I just said that exact phrase to one of my aides."

"Really?" Laura snorted. "I remember you saying that to me a few times over the years too." Richard nodded his head and studied her.

"Your husband, he remembers?" She nodded. "Anyone else?"

"There is a cadet named Kara Thrace and a doctor named Sherman Cottle who have memories. All four of us met on the Battlestar Galactica right before the attack." He slowly nodded processing information.

"You weren't married to him originally then?" Richard asked, noting how late she claimed to have met him in her story.

"No. In that future, I never married. So, we know things can change," she replied.

"What originally happened on Picon for you, Laura?" he asked, recalling bitter memories of a canceled rendezvous. He found his anger rising at what was stolen from him.

"What you wanted," Laura admitted. "You joined me there."

"How am I supposed to believe any of this? Maybe you've just…guessed these bits of the future," he hissed, turning away from her. His face reddened from irritation, anger, and fear.

"Tell me how I could guess this then; I know you have a birthmark right," she stepped closer and rested a finger on his hip, "there. And one there. And you have a scar you won't admit the story behind right there," she said, moving her finger to its location. She heard Richard suck in a sharp breath.

"So, you remember us being together in this…alternative timeline?"

"We had an affair, and I remember it, yes." Her honesty was so open, part of him already believed her. His anger intensified.

"How long?" he demanded.

"Until you died in the attacks. You died, and I never had the chance to say goodbye," she whispered. Laura had cared about Richard, and they had parted on bad terms. Those memories left their mark.

Richard turned around and saw tears in her eyes. Part of his anger melted away. He watched as emotions played across her face, and he reached out and cupped her cheek.

"If what you are saying is true, I wish I remembered," Richard admitted, stepping closer to Laura and brushing an escaped tear from her cheek. Laura smiled sadly before pulling away.

"Sometimes, I wish you did too. It would make this conversation easier," she sighed and reached into her bag. She pulled out the report the four of them had made; all their knowledge and all their hope rested in those pages. "Here. This is the full story. Everything we know. Everything that can help prevent the attacks," she said, handing him the folder. "The others who remember are in my office. They thought you might have questions."

"I'd like to talk to them," he admitted, holding the report in his hands like it was a bomb about to explode.

"Let's go."

…

Much to Cavil's relief the snow was melting. He decided he hated the stuff. It was cold, wet, and awful. He motioned to the small group of centurions to follow behind him. This was one of the biggest risks he'd taken; Cylon Centurions on the Colonies. However, the increased security around his target required extra Cylon power. They moved under the cover of night toward their destination.