She ran because she wanted to live life to the fullest, pushing her body within reason while the wind whipped through her hair and the blood pounded in her veins. It all helped her feel like she was fully living life. Her legs would throb and her sides would cramp, but each sensation told her body it was strong and alive. It also proved to be a good outlet.

Laura tugged her workout clothes on, knowing her irritation with everything would fade away with each mile she left behind. The day had yanked her around as if there were two firm hands grasping her shoulders intent on pushing and pulling her in every direction. She was putting on her shoes when the phone rang, and she resisted the urge to grind her teeth in irritation.

"Hello," she answered, balancing the phone between her shoulder and her ear while pulling on her shoelaces with more force than necessary.

"What did he say young lady?" A gruff grumpy voice demanded. Laura paused and couldn't help the slight smile that crept onto her face.

"No cancer, Jack," she assured him. There was a loud exhale which came through the phone, and Laura could almost smell the smoke that doc Cottle must have been holding in while waiting for her answer. Her medic friend could give Bill a run for his money when it came to being overprotective in regards to her health.

"Do you need a second opinion?"

"One day, I will tell Bill that you keep trying to look at my chest again," Laura threatened lightly. Her teasing brought a bark of laughter out of Cottle.

"What's he gonna do, throw me in the brig? I can order a psych evaluation. Who do you think can actually scare who missy? Remember, Commanding Officers are all scared of their CMOs."

"Let me guess. It's the doctor's world; we're just living in it," Laura rolled her eyes.

"Damn straight," Cottle swore. Laura gave a loud harrumph to that idea as she stood up from tying her shoes.

"You still coming to dinner on the 30th?" Laura asked.

"Yea. Is my little protege going to be there?"

"Yes, Zak's coming. You two can compare notes on torturing patients, lack of deference to authority, and the medical benefits of sarcasm," Laura quipped.

"It's important to maintain an image," he argued, and suddenly Laura heard a loud crash over the phone. "Frak. I need to go. One of your husband's hotshot pilots just came limping in. Can't wait to hear all about what stupid stunt they tried to pull. When's the next appointment?" Laura heard the scratch of a pen writing as she told him the date and felt a lightness to her heart. Cottle's outwardly facade was as abrasive as a porcupine's coat, but he had a big heart of gold buried under it. Laura knew he had a soft spot for her.

"Call you then," he promised, hanging up the phone.

….

Of all the words between Cylons and men, the saddest are, "it might have been." Her bruised heart knew the truth of these words but her mind tortured itself by asking the question again and again. Her feet carried her past the fields of children playing pyramid, and their laughter clanged in her ears. To her shame, she winced. How could she feel nostalgic for what never was? The warm pain of tears spread across her eyes as she conjured up visions of cabins and children. With a shuddering breath she shoved the sunny vision to the side and settled for the truth of the setting sun, and the uneven path she turned to trip along.

The river she trudged beside captured her reflection, and she felt sick at the sight. Resentment and jealousy had poisoned her, slipping under her skin and invading her blood drip by drip until she was twisted away from the sweet summer child she'd been.

As she moved, the sun sank further down on the horizon, and the light grew weaker. She wondered if she could have been stronger, and what might have been if she'd broken free sooner. Would she have exploded free of her chrysalis prison and flown free as a butterfly? Instead, her hand had closed around the heavy metal of a gun, and she remained trapped. She felt the familiar weight of a gun in her waistband now. She'd planned the ambush well, knowing it would be better to happen here - out of sight.

There was a saying the Colonials had: "The muse Clio sings, and having recounted a tale moves on. No prayer can tempt her to change her tune. A million tears cannot change or mute even a note of it."

Her life, her choices, were like a heaviness she couldn't escape. Beside her the river rushed past - not unlike how her life had once rushed past until its current dragged her under. She'd struggled, until it felt better to drown. Death was a dark blanket - like the approaching nightfall, under which she could disappear. At the end there was not much else for her; she hadn't become a machine who could switch off her broken heart. Pain was the natural punishment for her choices, jealousy the natural result of another stealing her life.

Her focus shifted away from the river and back to the path. In a secluded spot, she stopped and waited. She hated waiting. Time ticked by.

Eventually, a woman jogged toward her, red hair matching the setting sun. Boomer lingered in the shadows under the trees by the river, their branches reaching for her to offer their dark protection. It allowed her to lie in wait without being noticed until the woman bound closer. When the runner was close enough the Cylon woman stepped away from the protection the foliage unconditionally offered her, her Cylon nature not mattering to bark and leaf.

The moment Sharon Valerii stepped into the path, the waning sunlight lit up her face. Noticing the recognition which flashed in Roslin's eyes, Boomer swallowed hard and prayed for the One true God to guide her through this encounter. Boomer raised her chin at Roslin who'd come to such an abrupt halt that dirt and twigs were kicked up around her feet.

Laura tripped and fell to her knees in an ungraceful heap but refused to take her eyes off Boomer. From how intensely she looked at the girl, Laura may as well have been eyeing a monster like the three headed Cerberus or a snarling Minotaur. The women stared each other down, assessing and calculating.

"Are you here to kill me?" Laura asked in a level voice, her palms and knees throbbing from where dirt and gravel had scratched her skin away. She ignored the pain. Her heart pounded hard and fast. The Cylon stood motionless a few meters away from her.

"That's not what I want," Boomer finally replied, but she hadn't wanted to shoot Adama either. Sadness broke free inside her, hollowing her chest and wrenching her heart when she remembered pulling the trigger and seeing Adama fall. There had been so much blood. After that, why wouldn't Roslin assume the worst?

Laura stayed crumpled right where she'd crashed onto the ground with bloody palms and flushed cheeks. The older woman hated how vulnerable she felt on the dirt path, and the sweat dripping down her neck ran cold. She shuddered. Her security guards were home protecting her son. Backup was far away.

Boomer reached behind her and pulled out the gun. The steel glinted in the deepening twilight.

Roslin gave a sharp intake of breath when she saw the weapon. Bill's voice assuring her of his unending love and the smiling faces of her boys flashed in her mind, making it easier to look down the barrel of a gun without flinching. Laura had tried to live without regrets, but she would never have enough time in her husband's arms or watching her son's antics. She forced her panting to slow down and even out.

"What do you want Boomer?" Laura asked softly. She had known exactly who the Cylon was when she stepped into the path; that haunted look in the girl's eyes gave away who this Cylon was.

Boomer's eyes narrowed at the question. There she stood on the dirt path in silence and fear, for the demons inside had driven her here. But her demons didn't control her. Still, she was afraid of where her own choices might lead her again. Her heart told her to seek out Adama in this life and be honest.

"I want to live a good life," Boomer admitted. With a sudden growl she threw the gun, and it shuddered along the dirt until it rested in front of Laura. She placed her life in the older woman's hands. Roslin remembered a similar incident on Kobol.

The Caprican breeze was warm behind Sharon, lifting her hair and swirling it around her face. She smelled the earthy smell of wet dirt and fresh plants. Life.

"I want to make my own choices," Sharon whimpered. Tears fell down her face. She felt an entire unlived life spanning before her, yearning to be lived, beckoning her forward to its warm embrace.

"What do you choose Sharon?" Laura probed. She reached forward and grabbed the gun but decided not to aim it. However, despite the waning daylight, Laura was confident that Starbuck's lessons would result in her bullet flying true if the Cylon tried anything.

"I want… I want…" the Cylon choked. More tears spilled down her cheeks. "I want a cabin," she admitted and sagged against a tree, some bark cracking off under her weight. "I used to dream I'd have a husband and we'd build a wood cabin on Picon. We'd have a son and daughter." Something told her it was time to be honest. Boomer licked her lips, tasting salt. She looked down at where the other woman remained on the ground, holding very still.

Laura recoiled. There under the dusky sky of purple and indigo, she realized that this Cylon shared her deepest dream. Not like Caprica Six and Sharon Agathon had once shared her visions. No, Boomer shared her innermost desire of a quiet life in a cabin with a family. The realization was bitter and sobering, and yet a bit comforting. But she remained on guard.

"You shot my husband," Laura growled, gripping the gun tighter. Cylons were master manipulators; experience, the greatest teacher, had shown her that.

"I tried to kill myself first," Sharon remembered.

"Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't," Sharon admitted; she barely trusted herself. "But we can help each other."

Laura pulled herself to her feet, groaning softly. She tucked the gun into the waistband of her shorts. The heels of her hands ached from where she'd braced herself to keep from landing on her face, and her knees protested their abuse. It felt like she'd wrenched a few joints in directions they were not supposed to flex. She ignored all that and drew herself up to her full height and stared the Cylon down.

"Start talking," Laura ordered in her old Presidential tone. The young woman seemed unsure, but it was hard to read her expression with how dark it had gotten.

"I'd like to speak with Admiral Adama as well," Boomer pushed, trusting the Old Man more than she trusted Madame Airlock. Besides, it would be nice, in a bittersweet way, to see her father-figure again.

"I'm sure he'd have plenty to say to you as well," Laura rasped, making the prospect of seeing Adama again sound as ominous as it was promising. "He isn't home right now," she admitted, although even if he was, Laura had no intention of bringing Sharon back to her house while Liam was there. However, intrigue pulsed in her mind, enough to tempt her into listening; the Cylon's talk of cabins struck a note of sympathy. Laura was no stranger to her dreams being yanked away from her.

"He'd probably say thank you," Sharon whispered, wiping a hand across her face to remove the tears there. "Thank you for the coordinates that led him to finding and rescuing you. Thank you for the engine problems on the ship that allowed him to catch us."

She was right; Bill would probably thank the Cylon. In fact, there was probably a lot he'd be willing to forgive out of thankfulness for any assistance given in returning his wife to him. Besides, her husband's judgment around the Sharon Cylon models had always made Laura uncomfortable. She was far more distrusting and skeptical. Still, Sharon's contribution to her rescue were a point in the Cylon's favor.

"Thank you," Laura offered.

"I owed him. I still do," Sharon replied.

"How much do you remember?" Laura asked. She glanced down at her palms to inspect the damage and noted that it felt worse than it looked.

"Everything. Just like Cavil did, but he's been taken care of," Sharon explained.

"Laura observed Sharon, her head hung and the final rays of sunlight silhouetted her profile. Boomer licked her chapped lips and told Laura about Cavil's boxing. She shuddered, remembering him being dragged to the boxing facility. It took time, but Sharon explained Cavil's antics over the last few years. Laura listened, folding her arms and holding herself against the chilling air. It was a lot to process.

"You should know," Sharon continued. "Cavil says it's his fault that he remembered the future. He was bragging. Told me all about it. There was something he used. An orb. It reset time. I know it sounds crazy, but here we are and…" Sharon trailed off and shrugged.

"Does he still have the orb?" Laura asked and every muscle in her body tensed. Her old fear time resetting, them forgetting, and of this life being snatched away flared up in her.

"No," Boomer assured.

"Why are you on the Colonies?" Laura asked. "You can't be the only Cylon here."

"They're starting to place us in Colonial society," Sharon relayed; betraying her people by giving this information over left a sour taste in her mouth. But this was the choice she was making, just as Athena had once made her choice. Boomer was snatching her life back. She hoped so anyway. "I have an apartment and I'll be attending the academy soon. I'm supposed to become a Raptor pilot...again."

"A sleeper agent."

"They want me to be, but I'm done being a pawn," Sharon groused.

"Are the attacks coming?" That was the vital question.

"They're assessing the Colonies still. They're planning something, but I'm supposed to be a sleeper agent. It's not like the Cylon council shares its plans with sleepers," Sharon said, pushing off the tree and kicking a few pebbles around on the path. She felt antsy at spilling her secrets to Laura Roslin. Before either of them could add anything else they heard someone coming.

"Secretary Roslin!" A man's voice called out, and both women froze. Laura turned and peered into the darkness, but she didn't have her glasses. "Secretary Roslin!"

"Mr. Tao," she called, recognizing the voice of her security guard. The man came up to her, concern in his eyes, and Laura realized how overdue she was and how dark it had gotten. "Ma'am?"

"I tripped and met this young lady. Nothing to worry about," she assured him, brushing the lingering dirt from her clothes, and smoothing her shirt over the gun. She didn't think her guard had noticed it. She turned back to Sharon, and the two women seemed to come to an unspoken agreement.

"I live at Sixty-Two Pollux Avenue, Apartment Twelve," Sharon said. It was late and they had an audience. The conversation was over. "I'll be there when you or the Admiral want to talk more." With that Sharon turned and walked away, disappearing into the night. Laura stood rooted to the spot for a moment, thinking of Cylons, orbs, and time. Finally, she turned and followed the dirt path she always jogged along home.

Her sputtering security guard trailed behind her. The man explained that her husband had called. He'd spoken with Liam until both her boys started growing concerned over how long Laura had been gone. Apparently, Bill had thundered at her security for letting Laura go running by herself. Laura huffed. Running was her time alone.

She knew she'd been gone longer than usual, having always returned home before the sun vanished from the sky. This time the stars looked down at the two figures making their way home, and it was dark enough that Laura could make out orange Scorpia and green Aerilon in the night sky.

A frown tugged at her features as the delayed shock of meeting Boomer began to settle in. Boomer remembered. Her visions were confirmed; there was a real orb. The information rattled around in her mind, and she hoped Bill would still be on the phone when she got home. He needed to know what happened, and she needed to hear his voice.

Upon entering her home, she listened for Liam and tracked his voice to the living room. There he was sprawled out on the floor with the phone next to him and a game in front of him.

"D3," Liam called out.

"Miss. A4?" Bill's voice came through the speakerphone, and Laura grinned as her heart warmed at the sight. She stood and watched Liam for a moment. There were days he tested her patience and days he burned out every bit of energy she had, but Laura loved him with her whole heart and would protect him with everything she had.

"Hit. You destroyed my Battlestar dad," Liam moaned, sounding frustrated.

"You told me not to take it easy on you," Bill chided, chuckling at his son's tone. A finger to her lips, Laura caught Liam's eye as she approached and took a look at his game board. She pointed to a spot.

"C3!" Liam exclaimed, and waited.

"Hit," Bill grumbled. Liam giggled and marked the hit on his board.

"Mom helped, she's home," Liam admitted.

"Hello dear," Laura spoke.

"Someone didn't take their security detail with them," Bill growled, sounding rather tired of this argument.

"Liam's here. You're not allowed to be mad at me while Liam's here," Laura reasoned.

"Hmph. What do you think of that Liam?"

"Tell me where your escort class ship is, and I'll be on your side," the boy bargained. Laura raised an eyebrow at Liam who just shrugged. He really wanted to finally beat his dad at this game.

"No deal. Why don't you let me talk to your mom now, ok buddy?"

"Sure. Can we finish playing Battlestar when you call again?"

"Of course," Bill allowed. "Love you, Liam. Goodnight."

"Love you too, Dad. Miss you," Liam scooped up the phone and handed it to his mother who flicked speakerphone off. She told her son to finish his homework and start getting ready for bed. She watched him leave before heading to the study.

"Bill?" Laura asked into the phone, her voice sounding breathy even to her. She collapsed into the leather chair behind the desk.

"Security guards are meant to stay with you, Laura," he said, sounding irritated. His tone was like distant thunder - dangerous.

"Bill..." Laura warned, sounding tired.

"Laura, what's wrong? Did something happen?" he asked reading her tone easily.

"Boomer," she heard the creaking of his chair, and knew he'd sat up straight. "Boomer remembers," she told him and didn't hold anything back. She told her husband everything that had happened between her and the Cylon while on her run. Her voice trembled when she described Boomer pointing the gun to her, the repressed anxiety finally bubbling to the surface.

"She said that Cavil talked about an orb Bill! An orb he used to reset time," Laura explained.

"You think it's like the glowing orb from your dream?" he asked.

"Maybe. Seems like a big coincidence. Gods, I'm sick of my dreams," she exclaimed in exasperation.

"Laura it's going to be OK," he promised.

"You can't promise that. Now we know that our timeline was deliberately reset. We have no way of knowing if time will reset again or if there's a way to prevent it. We could lose each other and Liam. Our family."

"You said Boomer mentioned that Cavil no longer had the orb. He hasn't found it yet in this timeline, and he's been boxed. That's some small consolation," Bill comforted.

"Small," Laura conceded.

"When I come home, we'll go talk to Boomer. Maybe we can get more information out of her."

"Wish you were here," Laura murmured, relaxing back into the leather office chair.

"Me too, but I'll be home in a few days. How did your doctor's appointment go?" Bill asked, knowing that hadn't helped her day feel any less trying.

"All the scans and tests came back clear Bill. You can relax."

"Nothing new?"

"Well, there was no sign of cancer," Laura sighed, her words carefully evasive.

"What else did the doctor say Laura?" Bill wasn't fooled.

"The doctor confirmed," Laura began, but a lump formed in her throat. She took a deep breath, wanting to have had longer to process what the doctor had told her. "I'm starting to go through menopause, explains why we can't agree on the thermostat temperature when you're home," she tried to joke but even she could hear the sadness in her voice.

"I'm sorry Laura," Bill comforted, knowing she'd wanted another child.

"I have you and Liam. Zak and Lee too. It's more than I ever dared to ask for," Laura said softly. Bill wanted nothing more than to be home holding his wife. "Now I just hope the Cylons don't take it all away… I can't…" her voice cracked.

"Neither can I, Laura," Bill soothed hearing her sniffle over the phone.

….

That night, Laura dreamed of her classroom again. She looked at the list of names still written on the board. This time, next to the name Athena was written Sharon 'Boomer'' Valerii. Athena, goddess of war and wisdom. Laura knew Sharon had seen her share of war; maybe the Cylon had gained a bit of hard earned wisdom as well.

...

Author's note: Some of ya'll called it. Boomer's back!