RUNAWAY BRIDE(GROOM): Pt 9
The aftermath of what should have been Lee & Dee's wedding day...
A few days later...
The old man skidded his ancient quad bike to a halt at the end of the isolated dirt road. After he hopped off, he attentively assisted his attractive female passenger. "There you go! I told you those roads were too muddy for a lady like you to be tromping about."
Laura smiled. "Thank you so much for the ride, Mr. Canellos. I appreciate it."
"Oh, you can call me Ian, Ms. President."
Laura leaned forward. "You might want to be careful what you say out in the open, Ian." Even though, technically, free speech was still a fundamental right among the colonists, rumors were starting to spread of Baltar's thugs leaning on those speaking against her successor. She'd overheard some of her students talking about their parents taking beatings from those hoods after a peaceful protest a couple of months back.
"Pssh! I didn't vote for the slimy bastard! I say that they should have let the mistake go and let you stay! Ah well. In my book, you're still President."
She didn't correct him, didn't tell him exactly what dirty dealings she and her allies had to do to get her reelected. Laura really didn't miss being President. She had hated the weight and responsibility...the choices she had made. There were times during the election she'd look in the mirror, and see somebody whose soul was dying. In spite of that, though, she was glad that she had made such a positive impression on ordinary people, like Ian Canellos.
After promising not to tell anyone of her side trip, Ian drove off to work, while Laura made her way towards a row of green canvas tents near the forest. She took a deep breath in–the air felt clean, with a hint of pine, almost like the area around her aunt's house at Lake Juno. A far cry from the smoke and stench of New Caprica City. She mentally followed the directions on the piece of paper tucked in the breast pocket of her overcoat and walked around behind the line of tents. Sure enough, the small, corrugated metal shack was there–nobody would have seen it, unless told to look.
99999
It had taken her three days to find them.
Following the intel that Felix Gaeta had graciously provided, she first visited the last person known to have seen Lee and Kara.
"Well, Ms. Roslin", Margaret Edmonson started, "They snuck onto my Raptor and hid in a big crate. Just as I was entering the atmosphere, they popped out and demanded that I continue to take them planet-side."
"Were they armed?"
"No, ah, they definitely weren't armed...but they threatened to beat me up if I said anything right away. You never saw them fighting with each other, I did. It used to get scary sometimes, so I didn't want to get on both of their bad sides."
"I see."
"So I continued onto the Delos Landing Strip, and they jumped out at soon as I could open the hatch. That was the last I saw of them."
"Aside from what you told me, was there anything else, any detail that might help?"
"Nothing I can think of."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing, except they were frakking in the back of my ship, and there was nothing I could do about it."
"Anything, besides that?"
"Uh--"
A man entered the tent. He looked like he hadn't expected Edmonson to have company. "Oh, uh, hi Ms. Roslin."
"Hello. You are?..."
"Brendan Costanza", he shook her hand. "Most people around here call me Hot Dog."
"She's asking about Starbuck and Apollo."
Costanza whistled. "Good luck finding them. Like finding a needle in a haystack. I can't say I'm surprised they've run off together." He turned to Edmonson. "'Track, remember when we had the maintenance shift after Colonial Day, how hard he hit her after she frakked–"
"Hot Dog, I don't think Ms. Roslin's interested in that."
"I'm just saying, they're passionate, man. He's wound up tight, she eggs him on. Something was bound to happen."
"Well, thank you Mr. Costanza, Ms. Edmonson–"
Edmonson jumped up. "Oh! I almost forgot! He left behind his jacket, if you're interested." She pulled out from a locker a navy blue dress uniform jacket, with commander's pips on the collar and handed it to Laura. The older woman looked closely at the item of clothing, checking for clues. Dipping her hand into one of the side pockets, she pulled out a pair of men's briefs. She raised an eyebrow.
The young woman blushed furiously. "Uh, he left those behind, too."
99999
"That poor bastard. After that video aired, there hasn't been a moment peace where he's concerned."
Roslin watched the tall, dark-skinned soldier shake his head at the memory of his teammate. She had lucked out when she'd learned that some of the Galactica's marines had come down to guard supplies being shipped down. "Corporal Kantor, did they find any other traces of the Commander or Kara Thrace?"
"Some of the other men found some blood-stained gloves. Thought that he might have been taken by force. I don't think so. They didn't see the look in his eyes–that Look of Doom. He was running away from Lieutenant Dualla as fast as his feet could carry him."
For some reason, that put a smile on her face...
"Laura, you should have seen it!" Ellen Tigh guffawed. "Dualla flashing her tits, screeching at the top of her lungs! That beefy guard running after her! Oh, Gods! Saul and I were just dying!"
Roslin avoided Ellen whenever possible. However, Tigh's wife had accosted her at the marketplace, fishing for any further news of Lee Adama. Laura, in turn, decided to grit her teeth and do some fishing of her own.
"That must have been a sight. Did Commander Adama give any indication of where he was going."
"No. Nothing that Saul could figure, anyway. Thrace definitely had the right idea to steal him away. Those eyes! Those pecs! Those buns!..."
99999
A more solid lead was, amazingly enough, among the volunteers at the preschool.
"Yes, I saw Lee a couple of days ago," responded Shevon, one of her teachers-in-training. As they watched her daughter Paya playing jump rope with a knot of other little girls in the makeshift playground, she explained her connection to Lee Adama. Before the cylons attacked Virgon, she been a cocktail waitress at one of the major casinos in Tyllium City, struggling to make ends meet after her husband–a security guard--was killed during a robbery. Afterwords, when she and Paya escaped the destruction of their world, she was forced to rely on her assets–her long legs, long blonde hair, and sensual smile–to survive. Eventually, she worked as a prostitute aboard Cloud Nine , which was where she and Lee had formed a 'business arrangement'. When he had killed her boss, Phelan, he had made sure that she and Paya started a new life elsewhere.
"Where did you see him last?" asked Laura.
"We've kept in loose contact for the past few months, so he knew where we were when we came down. He and his girlfriend were waiting in my tent after my shift here–scared the hell out of me. He said that they were hiding, and that they needed my help. How could I say no, after what he did for me?" She paused briefly to warn a little boy not to wander far, before continuing her story. "So I got him some warmer clothes, snuck them some extra food and blankets, and they took off before sunrise."
"Did they mention where they were going?"
"He thought it best if I didn't know much." She grinned in recollection. "His girl wasn't thrilled with me helping them, though. She kept looking at me up and down, sizing me up. I guess I don't blame her, considering our past..."
99999
After running in to several dead ends, she entered the Union Hall to find its president, the former L.S.O. of the Galactica, leaning over a desk, practicing a speech. Mr. Gaeta had suggested that, if anybody knew where the bodies lay, it was him.
"Hello there Ms. Roslin."
"Hello, there Mr. Tyrol. How are you doing?"
"Fine, fine. I'm just practicing a speech for the next meeting. What about you?"
"Oh, keeping busy with the children. We've finally got enough volunteers to staff the after-school program, so that's a relief."
"Good."
"And how's your wife? I believe she's expecting, isn't she?"
"Yeah. The doc says she's due in twelve weeks."
"That's lovely. Listen," she said, gently tugging him out of earshot of a couple of workers milling about. "I need to ask a favor of you."
"Sure. What do you need? Has the school generator pooped out on you again?"
"No, it's working perfectly. I'm actually looking for someone."
"Who?"
"He's the son of a friend of mine, someone who disappeared a couple of weeks ago. His father is worried about him and would like to know that he's all right."
Tyrol looked at her directly in the eye, pausing for a moment before answering. "Why are you coming to me?"
"You're familiar with him, so I thought you might have contacted you."
"Well, unfortunately, I'm not sure I can help you. Have you thought about going through the authorities?"
"This is a personal, unofficial inquiry on behalf of my friend. There's no need to get anybody else involved. I'd just like to speak with him."
He looked into her eyes, as if deciding whether or not to trust her.
"I'll see what I can do."
The next day, one of her students gave her a note from Tyrol.
99999
She approached the shack, and knocked gently on the makeshift door.
"Commander Apollo, it's Laura Roslin." She heard rustling from within. "I apologize for coming this early, but I thought that it would be best if I came at a time when less people would see me. " Inside she heard a "frak", some stumbling, and the noise of clothing being pulled on. She walked to a nearby lawn chair by a small, empty fire pit, and sat, waiting patiently. A couple of minutes later, the door squeaked open and the object of her search walked out.
As Lee slowly made his way towards her, she noticed the change in him. Instead of the severe, blue Colonial Fleet uniform, he was wearing an ancient brown peacoat, which was slightly too big for him, a pair of faded blue jeans, and mud-encrusted hiking boots. No clean cut clean-cut and shaven boy scout there-- his hair was grown out slightly with the promise of soft waves, his jaw shaded by a few days of growth. His blue eyes–once icy and guarded--were softer, more vulnerable. The overall picture of him gave her the impression of a schoolboy found out and facing the inevitable. I keep forgetting he's so young.
He stopped by an adjacent chair, pulled it near her and sat down wearily.
He sighed, "Hello, Laura."
"Hello, Lee."
"I take it this isn't a social call."
"Normally, I take walks early in the morning, so I thought that nobody would notice if I disappeared for an hour or so."
He looked at her warily. "You didn't tell anybody."
"Like I said to Mr. Tyrol, I didn't want anybody else involved. I just wanted to talk."
"Ever the diplomat."
"I guess being President was good for something, now, wasn't it?"
In spite of himself, Lee smiled.
Right then, the door to the shack opened again, revealing Kara Thrace, dressed in her old fatigues . She had pulled her long, blonde hair back in a loose ponytail, her eyes hesitant. "Hi."
"Hello, Kara. Come join us."
Kara took a small crate next to the shack, and set it next to Lee. "So, where are the marines?", she asked cheekily as plopped down.
"Probably bored out of their gourd aboard Galactica. From what I heard, Lee's exodus was the most excitement they've had in a while."
"Bummer. I was looking forward to being thrown in the brig again. I kinda miss it."
"You mean having me being thrown in the brig. You're a civvy now", Lee reminded her.
"Well, hopefully, nobody will need to end up in the brig", said Laura. "You'll find that your father is a lot more understanding than you think."
"I hate to burst your bubble", Lee snorted, "But somebody's going to the brig, and it'll probably me." He pulled out a near-empty pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket(I didn't know he smoked, Laura thought. Another chink in the image of Lee Adama.) , and fumbled around a little more for a lighter. Kara pulled one out of her pants pocket, holding the flame as he lit up. Laura noticed their postures, their total comfort in each other's presence. For as long as she could remember, they had always been on their guard with one another. But now, there was no pretense, no hesitation.
Lee continued, "I'm a Commander in the Colonial Fleet. I abandoned my duty, therefore I must pay the price."
"I'm sure that–"
"Laura, you know my father. He's a man bound by honor and duty. Do you think he would forget that, even though the Cylons are gone?
Laura wanted to say yes, especially in light of her conversation with the Admiral, but she knew better. Bill Adama was a man of honor, who would not let anyone forget what it meant to be in the Fleet, even his own son. "Well, I guess the question now is, what are you going to do next?"
"What do you mean?"
"We both now agree that you will most likely spend time in jail, but what are you going to do afterwords?"
Lee took a long drag from his cigarette (Dammit, he even smokes like his father!). "I don't knowI haven't even thought that far ahead."
Laura sat up, leaning in towards him. "Lee, I've only known you for less than two years, but I know that you are as much of a man of honor and duty as your father. You wouldn't have abandoned your duty without good reason."
"I had good reason." Lee slipped his free hand into one of Kara's.
"Maybe, but there were...other things going on in your life. I'm not saying that your love for each other isn't real. It's more than obvious that it is. What I am saying is that stress of command, along with all the other...shit...we've been up against these past two years has taken its toll on youYour father even mentioned that he thought you were merely 'going through the motions'."
"Gee, I didn't even think he noticed."
"Well, he did, and it concerned him. He didn't pursue it further because he didn't think you would have wanted his interference."
Lee seemed to mull this information over. "We've never been that close. We've gotten closer, but not close enough."
"Ever your father's son", Laura shook her head.
"Tell me about it", added Kara. "Both stubborn as mules." Lee gave her an accusatory look. "Oh, come on, Lee! I've been telling you both to work out your bullshit for years."
"It's not that easy."
"No, Lee, it's not." Kara turned to Laura. "So, what can we do in the meantime?"
"Lee didn't answer my question. What are you going to do?"
Lee jumped up. "I don't know!" He stalked away from the firepit, throwing his cigarette on the ground. "I said I haven't thought that far!"
Laura sat back in her chair, measuring her next words with care. "My father used to say, 'If you don't know what you want, ask yourself what you don't want.' What don't you want?"
Lee stopped where he was, his back turned to them.
Kara broke the silence. "Well, I know I don't want to remain decaffeinated for the rest of this lovely morning. We've got sludge that resembles green tea. It's not coffee, but it keeps us from crawling up the walls. Want some?"
"That would be lovely." As Kara disappeared into the shack, Laura continued to look at Lee's back.
"I don't want to live without her", he stated softly.
"Okay, that's a start. I'm sure that the Admiral wouldn't mind if Kara rejoined the Fleet, if she wants to. Which now begs the question, do you still want to be in the Fleet?"
Lee turned around, and slowly walked back. "Back during the decommissioning ceremony, I had this...plan...this whole other life I was going to live. I was going to wait another year before I resigned my commission, take the money I'd saved up, and open a bar somewhere. I had an old buddy of mine from War College, who got sick of the whole thing, and ended up running a restaurant on Picon. I was going to look him up, see if he wanted to be partners-- him managing the food aspect, and me being running the actual bar. I even had a place in mind...This abandoned restaurant on the main drag that need a whole lot of remodeling."
"It sounds like it would have been nice."
"Yeah. But then the Cylons came, and I was stuck in the Fleet, with my Dad as C.O., and no way out. No options. Nothing."
"So, you want out of the Fleet? You could resign after your sentence, start your own place here."
"With what? No, that's not an option anymore. I don't belong here anymore than I belong on the Pegasus. What I want..."
"Yes."
"If I have to go back, what I want..."
"Go on."
"What I want is to fly again."
Laura steepled her hands under her chin. "You want to be a pilot again."
"I've always been a pilot. The worst thing that my father could have done to me was to take away my flight status."
"I heard you were good as Commander of the Pegasus. You had even turned the crew around, brought moral up. For someone who dislikes command, you're pretty good at it."
"You don't understand. I don't mind being a leader. I enjoy it. I am good at it. But what I want..."
"What he wants is to be C.A.G. again", interrupted Kara, holding three steaming mugs.
Laura took hold of hers. "Is that what you want?"
"Well, there's not much need for one, considering that most of my former pilots are on the surface."
"He's dying to be a dipstick again, but with only half the responsibility", Kara jutted a mug in his direction.
"And you want to be a pain in the ass again!"
"You know you want it. And I'll be a pain in your ass for as long as you need me."
Sensing the light at the end of the tunnel, Laura stood up. "Besides, there's no guarantee that the Cylons won't find us again. Who better to keep us prepared than you."
"I'll drink to that." Kara gave Lee his mug, raising hers in a toast. "Here's to bright, shiny futures."
As they clinked their mugs together, a rare sight appeared–a ray of sunshine broke through the ever present cloud cover, bathing the campsite in a golden glow.
Laura gazed in wonder, "Now that's a sign from the Gods if there ever was one."
