21 Years before cylon attack
Laura Roslin age 31
Location: Caprica – Caprica City Riverwalk Residential Complex

Her canvas stared back at her, resolute in its emptiness. Laura had been struggling for the last twenty minutes to recall the image of the cascading fountain in the lobby of the Seacade Memorial Hospital, to no avail. When she closed her eyes, she could hear the echo that her black pumps had made on the amber colored marble floor of lobby. She tried to visualize the way the light came down in shafts through the high glass ceiling, how it made the water sparkle, but instead she was faced with the memory of walking down a narrow white hall that smelled like recycled air and chemical disinfectants to her mother's hospital room.

Laura took a deep breath. Try again. She closed her eyes again and instead of wrestling for the vision of the fountain that she wanted, she let her mind drift. The first image that surfaced was of the flowers she had brought for her mother, orange tiger lilies to match the yellow rose she had brought on the last visit. The lilies had ended up tucked in around the rose in a short glass vase on the windowsill. Now think back, remember the fountain…

The morning news report flooded into her mind instead. "…message from the S.F.M. was released last night… 'You reap what you sow.'…special operations in recent months…capture of S.F.M. terrorists…Thomas Zarek is still at large…" Laura shook her head to drive the mental chatter away. She set her brush down on the ledge of the easel and left her palette on the sheet on the floor.

"Fine." She needed dinner anyway. Laura walked away from the blank canvas and into the kitchen. She pulled a large pot from the dish rack by the sink and half filled it with cold water. She set the pot on the stove, put the lid on it and turned on the rear burner. Laura inadvertently smiled to herself while she waited for the water to boil. There had been one highlight in her day: Doctor Gallagher. To say that she thought he was handsome would be a severe understatement.

It wasn't simply that he filled out his lab coat quite nicely or that his calm gray eyes matched well with his dark hair. So, Laura, what's the field trip this year?" It was his complete lack of pretension. "A lot could change in few months yet, but I'm hoping to fit in a visit to the Thesus Library, along with the Delphi Museum." It was the genuine inner tranquility he exuded that Laura wished she could do more than just mimic. "Delphi isn't far, but the trip from to Picon is like what, two hours, with thirty screaming kids." And most of all it was his soft chuckle that she tried to coax out of him as often as possible. "Two and a half hours actually. And my students don't scream. They politely shout." When he laughed, it made her feel as if the walk through the hospital to her mother's room wasn't really as thoroughly soul-destroying as it was.

In all honesty, she just couldn't help flirting with him when the opportunity presented itself, even though she knew there wasn't a chance for anything more. He was her mother's doctor. And there's probably some sort of policy against dating patients' relatives…

Laura continued the process of cooking up a batch of fettuccini pasta amid her thoughts of Dr. Gallagher. As glad as she was to have seen him today, their encounters tended to be double-edged. After a quick review of Judith's vitals and her general well-being, he had taken Laura aside to discuss her mother's condition. "If she ends up in the hospital again with something like pneumonia or the flu—Odds are she won't be leaving." She stirred the pasta with a wooden spoon. "With the delay that another illness would incur she could end up terminal." Once the noodles were reasonably separated she leaned on the counter to the left of the stove and waited. "As much as I hate the stuff, we'd have to switch her over to diloxin and if that doesn't work—Then nothing will."

She had replied that she understood, that it was okay. He didn't say anything else. He had only looked at her for a moment with the faintest crease in his brow and then continued down the hall to finish his rounds. Only now, while she stood in the kitchen, did she realize that it wasn't okay, it was—well, she didn't know really, all she knew was that she felt like something was missing. She didn't have a name for it, there was just a certain emptiness, no, a certain numbness that had built up over the years.

She wished that she could remember what it had been like before, before her mother's diagnosis, before the numbness, before the accident.

But there was no before.

At least not one that she could remember. It was lost somewhere, buried in the depths like a shipwreck at the bottom of the ocean, inaccessible and abandoned.

She checked the pasta. It was done. Nearly over done in fact. Laura drained the water out of the pot and went to the fridge for some butter to put on the noodles while they were still hot. She preferred the light flavor from butter as opposed to a more overpowering sauce. She stirred the butter in then took a blue plate out of cupboard and spooned a large helping onto the plate. She grabbed a fork and went to sit on the couch. While she ate she stared at the canvas across from her and decided that painting just wasn't going to work tonight.

So after she finished her dinner and got ready for bed she settled for reading a chapter of The Road to Earth. It was a decent fantasy novel that did the trick of letting her relax enough to get some sleep. It even managed to spark a few inspiring dreams.

She would paint again tomorrow.

Author's Note: Apologies for the long delay on this one...it was a rough one to write and some RL issues came up, but the next one shouldn't take too long and then the posting pace will pick up again. Thanks again for reading, the reviews, and the patience.