A/N It's been a long time since I've published anything here, but I want to say thank you to all the dms and reviews I've gotten since. Some of my other stories are on hold for right now even though they left off at a good place, but due to life and circumstances I don't feel like I can give them the love they need so I'd rather let them wait for me than to give them bad writing and endings they don't deserve. I love Rodama and always find myself coming back to them. I hope I've done them justice in this piece and continue to do so as this story unfolds.

This story is dedicated to Tori Poe who I met several years ago due to our mutual admiration of Mary McDonnell. I miss "Hey, Dolly" every time we spoke and the way her love of music was just as great as mine. She has gone far too soon, and I wish like crazy she was still here encouraging me. She was one of my greatest cheerleaders when it came to my writing and for that I will forever be grateful. All my love to you Tori

Always, Ellie 3

Whispers and the Words They Echo

Chapter 1

~The whispers of the words you said still echo in my mind

I thought it would all be different and we'd have time~

The pages from her journal fluttered in the wind. The gods' forsaken planet they'd been forced to make their new home had jarring temperatures through the night, and the days weren't much better. However, Laura Roslin had braved the elements and hiked the short distance up the hill to trek through the dense forest beyond. She'd barely skirted the Cylons and their wrath as she sneaked through a barricade that had been left temporarily unattended by the intimidating silver menaces while they tended to a small fire approximately a hundred yards away. She was guilt ridden at leaving her people to fend for themselves, but the need to see the crystal clear water had encouraged her every step. She needed a moment to breathe, to reflect, and to mourn a life she would never get to experience with a love she could never admit to feeling.

She bent to retrieve the worn book from its place among the brush where she'd dropped it only moments before when she thought she'd heard the distinct sound of metal behind her. It had only been her imagination and the drumming of her heartbeat in her ears at the thought of being caught. She chuckled to herself while chastising the fearless Laura Roslin her people had come to believe her to be. Grasping the journal tightly in her palm, the frond of a low hanging bush skimmed the inside of her forearm and she was instantly transported miles away.

The sound of her heels echoed from the walls as she walked through the belly of Galactica. The ship had been buzzing with excitement over the last several days, but now rumbled with an eerie silence. The promise of a new world, the opportunity to walk on grass and dirt again without the recycled air circulating through their lungs they'd been forced to breathe the last several months, had many intoxicated with what some had called hope since Gaius Baltar declared New Caprica their new home. She'd been torn as to whether she should make the journey planet-side or stay aboard one of the vessels continuing to fly alongside the Galactica and Pegasus, but Baltar had found her weakness when he offered the opportunity to open a school on the new planet and cater to the learning needs of the New Caprican children. She had one more goodbye to make, and although she knew it wasn't a final one something in the pit of her stomach ached with each step that brought her closer to the quarters that would be this particular journey's final destination.

Timidly, she stood in front of the heavy door, her hand raised in a fist willing it to knock. The guards had stepped aside at her approach to afford some privacy they knew the admiral would insist upon. She'd stepped over this very threshold many times since her Presidency began, but something about this moment made her nervous.

Perhaps it was due to the fact the man on the other side of this barrier had expressed his opinion not two days ago in front of none other than Colonel Tigh, Lee Adama, and Kara Thrace in a booming voice how adamantly he was against her departure. He'd huffed and coughed slightly into his hands when the quizzical looks around the room turned into Tigh's remark, "What the frak's crawled into your bunk and stung your ass, BIll?" He'd revolved on the spot taking in the laughing faces of his son and adopted daughter as well as the arched brow and coy smile of Laura Roslin whose response set him to right more than anyone else's in the room.

"My apologies," he began as he took his glasses off to wipe before replacing them and clearing his throat a bit louder than he'd intended. "Forgive me, Madam President, I merely intended to implore you for your logical sensibilities and reiterate once again at the deviousness with which we all know Baltar runs on. I would be remiss if I didn't call to attention his erratic behavior and obvious dislike and trust of you." He paused and stepped closer to her, lowering his voice in hopes the others didn't hear the slight tone of urgency, or was that begging, in his voice. "Laura, I don't trust him. He has ulterior motives for having you down there. You know he must or else he wouldn't have been so strongly adamant you be a liaison between him and the people. Shouldn't that be Zarek's duties?" His face gave nothing away to anyone in the room, except that she wasn't anyone. She saw the anguish and sadness in the waves rolling behind his glasses, those eyes, like an oceanic force, beckoning her closer, a lighthouse on a distant shore.

She'd reached out, skimming the back of his firm hand as a small current ran the length of her spine. She'd tucked that spark into the recesses of her mind to examine another day, but while rapping lightly on his door a flush fell across her cheeks as the feeling took hold of her again. She didn't know why she felt giddy, almost as though she were a schoolgirl waiting to meet her date on the other side. She let out a small laugh that caught in the back of her throat as he swept the door aside.

Bill Adama stood in the doorway, a mischievous look on his tired face. He'd known she'd been due to arrive any moment, but finding her with that bright red blush streaked across her cheeks and the giggle she was clearly trying to suppress not only puzzled him but flustered him in a way he hoped he'd get answers to before the night ended. He stepped aside to usher her into the inner sanctuary. It was quiet and peaceful as it had been all the other times before when she'd visited, however something about this night made it seem intriguing, nearly forbidden. Laura slipped her feet from her shoes, placing them beside the couch before walking further into his home, as was her custom. She walked quietly toward his book cases as she slowly ran her fingers along the spines. He mused she would miss them as she would no longer have direct access to the written word she so loved imbibing.

He'd closed the door swiftly and walked toward the drink cart where he poured them each a glass of the amber liquid he was at times a bit too fond of when the turmoils of living on the run overwhelmed him. Tonight, however, he would not over imbibe he would simply enjoy the company while allowing the conversation to be enough. She'd watched his every move from the corner seat on the couch she'd grown to love. Its smooth, aged leather cradled her hips perfectly while affording her a reason to relax and merely breathe. She'd not found that action to be without effort the last few months, the stress having been far too great to put into words. Now though as she tucked her feet beneath her legs, as she was more often wont to do when she found herself in the confines of this room, she sighed absently as she sipped the proffered drink.

"You seem content tonight," his husky voice broke the silence. She responded with that sound in the back of her throat he thought was something between a moan and a hmmm. Frak, he found himself being sentimental, knowing full well he'd miss that hum and the way it elicited dark thoughts like rivets swirling in the back of his mind. If he hadn't been a man that stood on ceremony, he'd drop his inhibitions and reach out to taste that hum. He mentally slapped himself, wondering what had gotten into him. This was supposed to be a night to say farewell in good company while they laughed and made plans to see each other for the next holiday they knew they wouldn't be able to keep. He grunted as he got up wanting to direct his thoughts elsewhere, There was something he wanted to show her before she left and now seemed as good a time as any. He opened a cabinet on the far side of the room intending to flip the hidden switch within.

"Bill, you seem uptight. Am I intruding? If so, I can leave you alone." Her voice was low and sultry, the way she got when he suspected she was a bit tired, comfortable, perhaps even relaxed at being able to remove the mask she so often wore for the people. He knew it was a facade as there had been moments of vulnerability he'd witnessed like the time she lay in her robe on Colonial One, a tear rolling down her cheek as he said goodbye while also trying to hide his own tears, or the time he'd kissed her after she'd presented him with his Admiral pin and he'd felt her breath hitch from more than the cancer racking her body. He felt her hand and the pressure she put on his forearm before turning to face her.

He studied her eyes before speaking. Those emerald eyes that held secrets and dreams that she never spoke of with anyone. The very things he sometimes wondered if she'd ever share with him. They were friends now. Things had changed among the cold, wet jungle, amid the stars and constellations of a planet they couldn't inhabit. They had changed when she nearly died and he ordered Baltar save her at the eleventh hour. They had changed when she lost the re-election. Things had changed when he realized she was merely a woman and he was but a man. "Forgive me, it's been a long day. I'd like you to stay. I don't know when I'll see you again." He gave a crooked grin that probably looked more like a sneer than anything, but hoped she wouldn't pay mind. He flipped the switch then snuck a peak at those eyes again. Hmm, tonight they were more viridian than emerald.

The soft twang of a guitar accompanied by slow piano filled the room as she watched him turn. He'd seemed a bit off since she'd walked in and made herself at home. Perhaps she'd been a bit presumptuous relaxing into his oversized couch before he offered her a seat, but then again it's not as though it was the first time she'd been in his quarters, and frankly he'd always told her to make herself at home. To be fair, this was the only place she'd felt at home in so long. She momentarily became wistful thinking of her queen bed back on Caprica with its goose down pillows, the black out curtains, and the soft tinkle of the waterfall she'd had installed between her bedroom and bathroom wall. She brought herself out of the reverie, tucking the smell of fresh cut flowers and strong brewed coffee away for another day when she needed a good cry. The voice crooning over the speakers was gravelly yet comforting and the woman's vocals added to its sensuality. She recognized the tune from her teen years. "I was born... to love you. I was booorrnn...to loooovvvee you..."

He found his hands around her waist in a fashion more akin to a junior high dance, but her smile and those beckoning eyes encouraged him, even egged him on. It'd happened so quickly, she'd turned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck after setting his carefully about her. She smelled like lavender and summer air. He didn't know how she did it in the confines of space where air was a luxury and seasons didn't exist. She mesmerized him, their hips swaying slowly with the rhythm, her face mere inches from his. He could feel her breath on his cheek and her pulse speeding up with his as her inner wrist brushed along the softest part of his neck.

"I didn't peg you for someone who listened to this kind of music, Bill." Her voice had that deep sleepy sound to it. It tickled his ear as she spoke, and he realized it wasn't the sound of sleep or comfort he was hearing, no, she sounded sexy. He'd tried for months to put the perfect word to the way her voice dipped around him and here it was. Laura Roslin had a sexy, no, provocative, no, a seductively arousing voice. Was that a shiver he felt down his spine and goosebumps on his arms?

"What did you think I'd listen to, Madam President?" His voice hitched when he felt her warmth enveloping him as she wiggled closer to encourage his hands into a tighter grip.

"Something more Tauran perhaps." She paused before gently crooning into his ear. She was so close he felt her lip graze his lobe. "Laura, I'm just Laura now, Bill." She actually chuckled at that last part, a sad titter he knew was filled with regret and heartache.

"You'll always be Madam President to me, always." He knew he'd said something wrong the moment the words came out and her body went rigid around him. She made to push away from him but he drew her nearer, afraid he'd ruined any chance of a nice evening. He wasn't ready for her to go. He hated that she was leaving to live on a planet they knew wasn't the answer. A planet ruled by that fowl, loathsome Gaius Baltar.

She huffed, giving him that presidential stare she'd perfected since her inauguration, but found the tension leaving her body as she spoke in a small voice he strained to hear. "Can we put pretenses aside for this evening? I'm just Laura and you're just Bill." She made that sound in the back of her throat, the one that he found so alluring. It wasn't up for further discussion and he knew it. He hummed in response and danced her around the room among his favorite books pushing the haunting reality of tomorrow out of his mind.

The blanket was nestled into the soft grass, Laura hidden from any possible onlookers by the bulrush swaying in the cool breeze. She gathered her jacket around her a little tighter as the memories flooded her mind anew. Chastising herself for the tainted hue she'd painted over them. That last night was a figment of her imagination, surely she was remembering it with the perception and idolization a child would give over to the grandiose description of their first love.

Swatting away an insect buzzing just beyond her ear, Laura sat up hugging the journal to her chest. No, she wasn't remembering it wrong. She wasn't often given over to fantasies and wishes. She was practical and efficient, headstrong and confident. She was delirious and heartbroken. A tear splashed onto the worn page as her fingers silently traced the words, the memories leaping off the page.

His eyes darkened as he watched her sway back to the couch, her laughter filling every nook and cranny of the dimly lit room. She was red from happiness and laughter, and her joy radiated outward like a star being born. Bill was mesmerized, taken aback by her dancing abilities. They'd listened, sung along, and danced for the better part of two hours. Every time he'd try to break apart she'd yank him right back in claiming the current song was her favorite. He knew she was stalling the inevitable words they would share, the goodbyes and his forthcoming last ditch effort to make her reconsider. He couldn't fault her, they'd never been so carefree as they'd been this night. Of course he was skeptical that this momentary lapse in time, this freedom from the Cylons, was to be short lived and all the fighting and bickering that had happened recently would all be for not when he was proven correct. That thought had to be tamped down because surely she wouldn't stand for it when she so desperately wanted to be a beacon of hope for her people, and he knew ultimately that's what her living on the surface of that gods' forsaken planet was really about.

Laura nibbled on the food he'd spread out before her arrival. It wasn't much, then again algae never was, but she was grateful all the same. She eyed him suspiciously knowing full well the cogs in his brain were working overtime just as hers had been all evening. She was stalling, trying to make time last. If only she could make it stop altogether maybe the rest of the night, their parting as the last shuttle headed for New Caprica in the morning, wouldn't be so difficult, so very sad. The nervousness she'd felt earlier rushed over her anew, a swelling in her chest she tried desperately to quell.

Blue eyes bore into her very soul as she wagered a look at him. The Admiral, still in his uniform, the top buttons laid aside in his leisurely mode, looked handsome and worn down. She knew he'd been up for weeks trying to devise a plan in which he didn't lose the majority of his staff and civilian fleet to Gauis Baltar. They'd both been unsuccessful in that venture. She wished this wasn't the ending they'd been afforded. She'd laid so much stock in the prophecy, and if she was being brutally honest, she didn't believe for a moment this was the fulfillment it had spoken of so vehemently. Without warning her hand found his and their fingers intertwined.

An audible gasp of air was released from his side of the couch, a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He shook his head, removed his glasses to squeeze his eyes between his fingers as he often did when he was trying to deflect an unpleasant moment, then turned slowly toward her. The sight that lay before him made his heart ache. He knew there was something between them, she knew there was something between them, but they also knew they couldn't give into those urges and wants. Hadn't she said something once about the people she served being more important than her own wants? Then again it stood to reason given her earlier statement while dancing that previous sentiment went out the window. Still he hesitated as his eyes swept over her delicate features. He marveled at how healthy she looked, her luscious auburn hair falling waves across the back of the couch, her eyes, his favorite thing about her, swimming before him with a radiance he'd not allowed himself to savor before lest he lose sight of the greater good. Then there was her skin, a creamy alabaster with small freckles he'd only seen as she lay under the harsh lighting under Doc Cottle's care. He winced as the memory of her lying on her deathbed tried to weasel its way into this make or break moment.

"Laura," his voice sounded heavy and broken. " We both know what will.." his words were cut off before he could even take his next breath.

"Bill, aren't you tired of all the sidestepping? Don't you just want to be free of standing on morals and rules, bowing to what others think of you and demand from you, even if it's just for a night, just for a moment?" She let him mull it over while she caught her breath. Where had this assertiveness, this hippy thinking come free? She'd not been so brazen with a man since Sean. She'd been subservient more than anything to Adar, and she'd hated it the longer it went on. The day she'd left for Galactica, the day she'd finally stood up to him and his chauvinistic narcissism, had been one of the best feelings on one of the worst days of her life, yet perhaps it was the very reason she could sit here now proposing an affair with a man she'd found so intriguing since.

At a loss for words that didn't sound as though he was denying her outright, Bill rummaged around his mind for the proper thing to say. He wasn't so old he didn't know to what she was referring. He was even younger than that at heart apparently because it was the very thing he'd been telling himself for weeks, possibly even months, they couldn't do. As the Admiral to two ships and a civilian fleet he had to maintain vigilance over, not to mention his duty to Gaius Baltar and the colony on New Caprica, he knew deep down no matter how much he wanted to ravish this woman in front of him, it wasn't a good idea. He inhaled deeply before opening his mouth to reply, but his words were cut off once again. Only this time they were railroaded by something that caught him completely off guard.

A/N - no copyright intended with the use of these characters and reference to Battlestar Galactica. The song mentioned above is by Ray LaMontagne titled " I Was Born to Love You"