Sunset. Day's end. The sun faded away leaving behind orange streaks as tantalizing as juicy tangerines and red clouds as inviting as ripe pomegranates. The glowing colors bathed the room in warmth. Normally this office came across as cold and intimidating to its visitors, but that effect had long been washed out of Laura's system.

Budget documents, tinted from the sunset, lay scattered across the President's desk. Most of them now bore an elaborate signature signifying a meeting well spent. Laura bent over and gathered up the papers, sweeping them into a waiting folder.

Meanwhile, Adar stood off to the side pouring two glasses of sweet spring mead, one of Laura's favorite indulgences. He'd been shocked and pleased when his Secretary of Education agreed to stay and share a drink. There had been no overt suggestiveness from him during the whole meeting, and Adar thought her agreeing to stay was a fine reward for his good behavior.

Laura accepted the crystal glass he offered her. For a moment, the sweet rich smell of jasmine fought with Adar's overpowering cologne. He wore too much, and the heat of the office made it worse. Adar found himself tempted to let his eyes linger too long on her silk blouse and how it clung to her skin from the heat, but he moved away and relaxed in his chair. It was casual; ties and jackets were long abandoned, but he remained wary. Adar knew he'd crossed a line with Laura at the retirement party awhile ago, and he didn't want to lose his Secretary of Education.

Laura smiled as they both relaxed in their seats and raised glasses.

"To working hard," Adar toasted. They sipped on the pink liquid, both enjoying the sweet flavor. There was a heavy fruity peach undercurrent that Laura particularly enjoyed. "This is nice. We haven't spent time together in a while," he purred.

"There wasn't a need," Laura shrugged, hoping she didn't sound too cold.

"It's been busy at the office. Lots of new developments. But I always have time for you, Laura," Adar promised.

"That's nice. I'm almost always pretty busy, though," she laughed, softening the blow of her words. "But there is something I need to talk to you about." She took a drink of her mead. "The sketches of the humanoid Cylon models we gave you and you passed on to law enforcement… have you found any models?" she asked.

"Probing for classified information, Madame Secretary?" Adar asked in a teasing voice, looking at her over the rim of his glass.

"Classified even to me?"

"You're not military," he explained.

"But my husband is..." Laura began to counter but noticed the scowl that pulled at Adar's features. He audibly snorted at the mention of Adama.

"A man finishing his career as a disgraced Admiral on the rust bucket of the Fleet. No, he's not on the list of Colonial officers in my inner circle," he snapped, cutting her off. It was clear Richard Adar was going to be spiteful toward Bill Adama until the end of his days, and it didn't matter what Adama actually did.

"He's the most honorable man I've ever met, and I won't hear of talk otherwise," Laura snapped. They eyed each other for a moment, feeling the tension in the atmosphere.

"I don't have to like him, Laura. He doesn't…" Adar bit back his words. He doesn't deserve you, he thought, but left it unsaid. The words wouldn't do any good, and so Adar changed directions before his opinions got him in trouble. "You know, I could be persuaded to divulge some government secrets if you happen to have a compelling reason."

"I saw one. I saw a Cylon model I recognized and there was no mistaking who it was," Laura admitted her voice low and intense.

Richard nodded, swirling the liquid around in his glass. It was a compelling reason, and he thought back to all his secret meetings. There was much work being done behind the scenes. Sunlight no longer streamed into the office to catch and sparkle in the crystal. The sun was gone.

"You don't seem shocked or worried," Laura frowned, having expected a far more intense reaction. She'd anticipated something along the lines of panic. The stretching silence made Laura's blood run cold despite the heat in the room. This silence was too much like the sharp intake of breath someone takes while watching glass falling to the ground before shattering into a million pieces.

"I'm not worried," Richard admitted in a calm voice.

"Why not?" Her voice was low and dangerous–a warning. He would either tell her what was going on, or she'd find the information using whatever means she needed to.

"Remember those developments I mentioned?" he started to explain.

"What could possibly allow Cylons to be here with your knowledge?!" Laura hissed, looking at him wide-eyed.

"They're here to learn about humanity," he told her, draining his glass of the remaining mead but making no move to get a refill.

"And you're allowing that?" she growled angrily. Adar regarded his Secretary of Education for a moment before reaching to the secured desk drawer.

His desk was a rather remarkable piece of furniture. It was finished with the finest ebony wood but underneath was solid duranium which could withstand even a C4 blast - convenient should the President need to duck for cover. The desk seemed an appropriate metaphor; a President portrayed a fair facade for the world, but underneath was a harsh, hard interior one needed to survive the high office. Each drawer was thumbprint coded to prevent anyone but him accessing its contents. Adar opened one of these and withdrew a folder and handed it to her.

"Cylon models came to the Colonies to learn about humanity. As they learned about humanity, they had new goals," Richard said moving from around the desk to stand in front of Laura with the documents.

Laura set her glass down with a loud thud and took the proffered folder. Her heart hammered in her chest. With a flick she opened the folder and looked at the first page. She nearly screamed. Grabbing the side of her leather chair for stability, she stared at the words blazed in black ink that seemed to taunt her.

'Terms for Colonial–Cylon Peace Accords.'

It was a joke. It had to be a joke. It wasn't a joke. She read it again.

'Terms for Colonial–Cylon Peace Accords.' The words remained the same. It wasn't her imagination. It was real. The armistice, an almost forty-year agreement to cease hostilities, was becoming a true peace instead of just a truce.

Oh, my Gods, Laura thought, her mouth opening and closing as words failed her. Her throat felt like it was constricting, and she swallowed hard before looking back up at the President who remained impassive while watching her. She gaped at him, waiting for him to explain while trying to breathe normally.

"A friend of mine, Gaius Baltar, came to me. He introduced me to a friend he'd made. She called herself Six and was a Cylon. She matched the description your group gave of her. I'll admit – that was unnerving. But she explained that she'd been sent to talk. The Cylons want peace. We've been engaged in talks for weeks now," Adar explained. From the information they'd given him, he knew not to allow Baltar any contracts that would compromise the security of the Colonies. Keeping their systems secure was one of the best ways to protect his people. No backdoor coding. No firewall cracks. Laura knew all of this, but still looked horrified.

"You trust them!?" she exclaimed, knowing her emotions showed on her face. Memories accelerated in Laura's head, crashing into each other. She couldn't slow them down and could only make one coherent thought; this had to be a trick. It was a cover for the Cylons true agenda.

"I was shocked and confused too, and I understand why you're hesitant to trust them," Adar admitted, and Laura nearly scoffed at him. What did he know of apocalypses and reasons to distrust the Cylons? He stood in a gleaming office of crisp blacks and whites. Every surface was clean and polished to reflect the splendor of the Colonies. It bore no sign of dirt and desperation. He was surrounded by the smell of jasmine and cologne, and not the reeking scent of anxiety and fear.

Each breath Laura took came out in gasps faster and faster while the edges of her vision became fuzzy. Her heart hammered in her chest while the room around her spun. Nausea erupted in her stomach. She thought she heard someone calling her name. Someone was talking. Explaining. Peace with the Cylons? Gauis Baltar? Peace? Six? Boomer? Peace with the Cylons? Cylons on the Colonies? Peace with the Cylons?

For a moment she felt herself falling, but two strong arms held her in place. Her body trembled so violently that the arms had to hold her tightly to keep her still, but Laura couldn't feel her limbs anymore. She noticed the document had dropped from her hands, and she looked to where it was scattered on the floor. She was so dizzy.

A voice was begging her to breathe, to calm down. She tried to calm the hurricane inside of her. Her ribs felt as if they were bound as she strained to breathe. Someone called her name over and over again. Her head was being cradled so Adar could look into her eyes.

With what strength she could, Laura shoved him away. She stumbled to her feet even though the floor felt like it was melting away underneath her. She slapped away Adar's hands as they reached out to help steady her. A few unsteady steps took her away from Adar and the Peace Treaty documents. Suddenly, she was running toward the door, needing to escape the madness. Adar called after her as she barreled out of his office and dashed through the capitol building as if Charon himself were chasing her.

…

Bill watched Saul Tigh exit his quarters after sharing a few drinks. The Colonel seemed particularly keen on joining the triad match happening in the pilots' rec room, boasting about how he was going to take Starbuck down a peg or several. Bill refrained from asking how often Saul succeeded at defeating Kara in cards, deciding not to be the one who ruined Saul's hopes. Besides, the rest of the pilots viewed Kara Thrace as a rook fresh from the academy and as one of the newer pilots assigned to Galactica. Giving Saul a good thrashing at triad would help her status among the crew, and the crew seeing their XO soundly defeated would help improve morale.

Scattered across Adama's desk were bits of a naval ship; bulkhead frames and a keel pieces cut from wood were all laid out like a puzzle waiting to be put together. He reached out to grab the first pieces to slide them in place, but his comm rang. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Off-duty time was never sacred to the military. He picked up the phone.

"Adama," he barked.

"Bill! Is the line secure?" A voice broke out from the receiver and Bill bolted upright. Alarm pulled him out of his peace at the tense voice asking for a secure line. He heard faint pants of breath through the faint static.

"Laura," Bill flipped a switch on his comm unit preventing third parties from dropping in on their call, while concern prickled in the pit of his stomach. "It's secure. What's going on?"

"It's… it's Adar and Cylons. Caprica Six. And Gaius frakkin' Baltar and… I'm not making sense! There was a… a treaty and…" Bill listened to Laura spluttering, her usual coolheaded calm jarringly absent. A knot in his stomach formed, and it took a moment for him to speak.

"Laura, honey, you need to slow down and breathe," Bill ordered. His brow furrowed as he listened to his wife. He heard her rapid and sharp intakes of breath. "Breathe!" She took one long deep breath and told him everything that happened in Adar's office in a rush.

"What?!" Adama exclaimed. For a moment neither spoke. His antique clock ticked like a timer on a bomb, not slowing down. Time dragged forward even as his heart hammered in his chest and the weight of the future sat heavily on his shoulders. There was a small tremor in his hands at the notion of this peace with the Cylons, and it didn't embarrass him to admit it. He waited, hoping that Laura had more of an explanation, a reason for this peace.

There was a peace once made with Cylons in the other time, but it had been forged under the most extraordinary circumstances. This offer reeked of deception and trickery. Could Adar not guess that peace talks were the best cover for an attack?

"How is this being considered?" Bill asked.

"Because it's the solution to all our problems. The promise of peace," Laura sighed, and Bill could hear the exhaustion in her voice. "I'm not going to lie, Bill, I'm a bit freaked out right now."

"Me, too, honey," he replied, wanting to wrap her in his arms and feel her warmth and know that she was safe and cared for.

"Are we just paranoid? We made peace with them once. What if this peace could be a reality?" Laura asked. Bill mulled over her question while fiddling with the pieces of his ship. The ships he built had to be carefully assembled so that everything was level and flat otherwise the finished project wouldn't be worth the effort. He liked puzzles, he liked watching the pieces come together, but this puzzle had too many missing and disjointed pieces.

"Well, we know the Cylons are experts at manipulation. We know that humanity can't survive on hope alone. Adar is a moron if he's pinning humanity's existence on what he wants to be true. There's no guarantee the Cylons will hold up any bargain," Adama reasoned. Hope couldn't save a sinking ship after all.

"Gaius Baltar. Six. Decommissioning Galactica. It's all happened before and it's happening again. No matter what we do," Laura groaned. "At least he's built up the military and de-networked most of the Fleet. There's no breach in the Defense Mainframe. Even if they attack, we have given the Colonies a fighting chance," she sighed.

"We're prepared," Adama assured her. He hated the idea of the people being lulled into a false sense of security. That was beyond his control. "There's nothing we can do anymore. I've done what I can in the Fleet. You've done what you can. Cottle, Kara, and Saul have done their parts. There are backup plans, and now the cards will fall." Bill accepted this while running a hand over the parts of his ship, spacing them out. The pieces would come together as best they could.

"I want it to be real. I do. Could you imagine peace? We could retire in a few years. Find a quiet place to live. Raise Liam. Our sons could have lives on the Colonies instead of trying to fight for survival across space," Laura sighed, it was a tantalizing vision.

"Knowing my family is safe shouldn't feel like such a pipe dream," he growled. "But you taught me at some point we have to accept what life has dealt us and find the good in it."

"You're the good in my life. I'm glad the call as able to get though. I needed to hear your voice," she whispered, far calmer. Marriage was a ship against which the savage winds might beat, Cylons might attack, and the sun may set but they could stand on the decks together and weather any storm. They spoke almost through the night, until exhaustion finally forced them to hang up and go to sleep.

….

Author's note: I hope you enjoyed the big plot twist. Cylons offering peace! Please take a moment to review! I really really, really love the feedback and comments. It's helpful and motivating! I fell behind replying to comments while sick, but I think I've caught up. Review!