"You summoned me?" Laura's voice was less playful than intended when she walked into his office.
Richard smiled at the way she waved off her own remark and closed the door.
"I'm glad you came."
"Did I have much of a choice in the matter?" Laura allowed his hand to caress her lower back.
"If someone does it's you." He made his point by giving her a moment to protest before he buried his hands in her skirt and under her blouse.
Laura closed her eyes. She had willed herself to end her relationship with him. She had resisted him for the longest time. It was useless to fight two wars at once. She had to realize that. Love or not, she enjoyed the moments of pleasure he gave her in those stolen moments behind closed doors. She used to despise herself for being so easy with him, scolded herself for everything he made her do. That's what she quit. No more regrets. Just her with him – hands, lips, tongue. She needed him, his adoration, needed the life he filled her with, the warmth, the sweat. Her name moaned, released from his throat, born so deep within his pores that she felt the vibration of every syllable against her body.
Laura gasped - no sound, no proof, no giving into a deceitful luxury of solitude. His hands travelled to her breasts and down, another gasp, a tickle - pain.
Richard released her from his embrace with a worried look on his face. Steadying herself againgst the wall, Laura bit her lips and shed a tear. Her face turned away from him – she looked for shelter.
"What's wrong?" Richard asked with hesitance in his voice.
"Nothing you should worry about," Laura tugged her blouse back into her skirt, her hands shaking.
"Too late for that," Richard picked up the phone to call for help.
"Don't!" Laura stopped him. "I don't need an ambulance just yet."
"What the hell are you talking about?" The President tried to bore his eyes into her. Her gaze avoided his, he played along, played her game, full of hope to get the answer he was waiting for.
"I'm fine," Laura shrugged him off, relieved about the Chamalla in her bag and the water she had brought.
"If you don't want to talk about this, I'll have to accept that. But please don't think that you have to lie to me, Laura." Richard sat down behind his desk, his eyes never leaving her face.
"I'm not lying to you." Laura allowed herself to fall into a chair across from him. She gulped down a pill, then two, the weight of his gaze heavy on her like a burden.
He waited – his eyes lingering on her body, frailer than before, shielding herself from his reaction, his concern.
"What do you want me to say, Richard?" Laura put down the water on his desk. She looked into his eyes, looked deep down into his eyes to find an answer to a question that was haunting her at nights. Would he leave her? Would he let her fall? Would he leave her nothing of what she had found she needed more than anythting – a job, her daily task, making love to him? It was obscure, imperfect, their twisted kind of love always unfulfilled on some level, complicated, less than everything yet more than nothing. Laura frowned, more at herself and her raging mind than his never-flinching eyes that met her gaze with curiosity and suspicion.
"The truth, Laura. Tell me what's going on." He remained in his seat, his face relaxed yet alert, like the President in a meeting about war and peace.
"You've never been big on the truth, Richard. Why change your pattern now?" She tried to humor him. She failed. "So lying for you is fine, but lying to you isn't?" Laura shook her head. He didn't move his eyes away from her, had pierced her down in that chair right across from him. His hands folded on his desk, close enough to reach for hers – Laura gasped. The shortness of her breath was sudden – she hadn't told anybody so far, didn't want to. Billy's guess had been bad enough but this was different. She trembled. "I have cancer," she mumbled under her breath. "Four months left now. Terminal." She added quickly. His eyes different now, darker somehow, shocked. His face a mask – untouched, controlled. His voice lost. He cared – that's how she knew.
Minutes passed until he moved up from his seat, away from his desk. He needed space, walked to a window by his desk, stared into nothing. Laura tried to speak – a whisper, she cleared her throat, then her voice – shaky, then stronger again. She didn't like to be exposed like this.
"I didn't want you to... I don't know. I don't know what else to say." She turned towards him, his back bent down a little, his shoulders stiff.
"You didn't mean to tell me," Richard asked calmly. The reflection of his face in the window told Laura more than his voice so small and quiet.
"What good is it now that you know?" Laura met his tone.
"Four months?" It was a statement rather than a question. "Since when do you know?"
Laura shook her head.
"Since when do you know?" Richard turned around to face her. His knees were weaker than before. "Your cancer education program... You started it four weeks ago."
"You know that my mother died of cancer, I always wanted to..."
Richard interrupted her. "Bullshit, Laura! You told me off about my legacy and now you, you..." He gulped. "Now you tell me that you will die?" He was upset. "What did you fight for, Laura? All those weeks ago, did you know? Did you know that you would die on the day you made that deal with Stance? The day you fought with me to keep your job? The day I thought you would walk out on me?"
Laura looked at him in awe. She had expected him to be mad, cold even, the kind of commiserative she resented so much. She had not expected him to hurt. His rage surprised her, his tears – one stubborn tear on his cheeks, then another one until there were too many to count. Laura got up to offer him her arms. The patient as the comforter. She knew the routine, had seen her mother act that way so many times. That was why she didn't want people to know. She was selfish like that. She didn't have the strength. She was the sick one, no one else. She would die, leave this place, cease to exist. Her, not them, not him. Laura closed her eyes to bite down her own tears. Arms around him she stood – seconds, minutes, a moment longer than he thought she would. When his tears dried, he pushed her away only to gather her in his arms. He felt every inch of her skin, her heart pounding in her chest. Laura breathed the scent of him through her nose and mouth – the taste of him on her tongue and lips, she buried her face in his neck. A kiss, stolen from him before he let go. A smile so sad on his lips, his hands clingy around her waist.
"So this is it? A cause is what you fight for but not your life?" Resignation – his voice gave him away.
"I'm fighting for what I can get." Her smile was sad like his.
"Did you even try?" He looked at her with doubt and closed his eyes when she touched his face with her fingertips. So gentle, so soft – she explored the lines on his face, caught the last drop of his tears with her thumb.
"Years ago I tried to get something that wasn't for me. I chased after an image of what I thought I wanted. A family I used to have. I found you. I deserved what you gave me and everything you didn't. I deserved this job I never asked for with all its pitfalls and benefits. It's is alright. This is alright as long as I get to do some of the things I wanted to do. Do something right, make a difference. If not for me, at least for others."
Her throat was dry when she spoke, her voice surprisingly calm. "I missed so much over the years, Richard. I can't blame you. It was my job, it was myself. I chose to be with you, I chose to stay every time I thought that I should leave. I can't. Not even now. So please don't make me. Let's say this means more to me than I thought it did. My job, all of this. I just don't want to be the cancer victim or the patient. I want to be me for as long as I can. Do you understand?"
Richard nodded. "So where do we go from here?"
Laura squeezed his hand in that gentle way of hers and sat down in the chair in front of him. "You summoned me. You wanted to talk to me."
He nodded again. "It all seems so insignificant right now."
"I like insignificant, tell me more." Laura pleaded.
Richard walked behind his desk, his voice presidential now which made her smile. "Cylon agents were caught in Caprica City. They wanted to get access to the defense main frame. Gaius Baltar turned them in."
Laura shook her head, afraid to ask.
"I know," Richard went on. "It seems they wanted to attack the Colonies, all of them at once. Can you imagine that? A couple of weeks ago all of our lives could've changed. They had nukes. The military found them. Secret operation which never happened if you know what I mean. Seems we are safe now, but what if they had gone through with it? What then? A Cylon attack, a genocide? I just cannot stop thinking about that."
Laura stared ahead. The possibility of the scenario scared her. It was unsettling to know that she might have died four weeks ago. Unsettling because she wondered what difference it would've made for her. What would've changed? After all, dead was dead – or wasn't it?