4 Years before cylon attack
Laura Roslin age 48
Location: Caprica – Caprica City Office of the President

Laura waited alone in the President's Office for Richard to return from his meeting with Secretary of Defense Jameson. After twenty minutes or so, she leaned back against the edge of his desk and switched on the wireless set next to her to listen to the midday news reports. The top story was the speech that Adar had given earlier that morning. Two days ago the Areias City Police had been overwhelmed by protesters during a union demonstration and yesterday Adar had ordered the Colonial Marines into Aerelon to reinforce them. The situation escalated and after shots were fired into the crowd, several civilians had been killed and dozens wounded.

"What happened on Aerelon was unfortunate, but unavoidable. I was left with no other alternative than to act swiftly to prevent the spread of violence that would have resulted in further deaths. We cannot allow this tragedy to deter us from doing what is necessary to maintain the unity and safety of the Colonies. We must stay the course until—"

"Shut that frakking thing off," snapped Richard as he stormed into his office.

She complied.

"I take it your meeting didn't go well?"

"Fifteen dead." He had sidestepped both her and her question to get to his chair. She turned and watched him with a mix of curiosity and concern. It had been months since she'd seen him this agitated over something and given his reaction, or rather lack thereof, to other recent events, she had begun to worry.

He dropped a navy blue folder on his desk, opened it, and removed a sheet with a list of names. "I should have listened to my instincts and never given the order. I won't make that mistake again. Not while I'm still president."

"Maybe you should have told the people that."

"And give half the Colonies another reason to fight me? They don't ever seem to run out of them as it is."

"So that's it? You're just going to gloss over it and forget about it?" she pressed.

"No. It's imperative for a leader to remember and learn from the mistakes even if they can't admit to them publicly. I will not repeat this one."

Laura almost smiled in response. The good man she remembered was still there after all.

"Why are you here any way? Don't you have anything better to do with your free time than push my buttons?"

Her urge to smile promptly vanished and was replaced by a sudden chill in her voice.

"Wally and I need a couple more days to negotiate with Representative Simmons—"

"And if Wally had come to me I would have told him no, so unless you have some compelling reason to offer that he doesn't, I'll tell you, no. I'm already up to my ears with requests for deadline extensions on half a dozen other projects. The Quorum is breathing down my neck as usual. I can't afford to give anyone more time. I don't care if you have to frak Wally and half the People's Council to get them to agree on something just get it done. Understand?"

"Yes, Mister President."

"Good. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone." He pointedly ignored her and stared at the list of names in his hands as if trying to memorize them.

She went to leave, but stopped and looked back when she heard him open one of his desk drawers. He had emptied it in short order and placed the list of names in it. In the silence, she heard a half-whispered never again before he closed the drawer. For the briefest moment, she had wondered if she had made a mistake.

-xxx-

Another conference with Wally that went nowhere and an hour later, Laura closed her eyes in the quiet of her office and tried to will some kind of relaxation to calm her resurging doubts. "Where is this going?" It was still hard to believe that it was over. "Going?" After so long. "What happens when you're not the President and I'm not the Secretary of Education?" With his reelection, she had become acutely aware that time was running out. "I don't know. I was thinking of getting a divorce." He'd stopped wearing his wedding ring, even in public, once he realized there was nothing left for him to lose. "Richard, I'm serious, what happens?" He was no longer safe. "I suppose that depends on what you want. And I get the distinct impression that it isn't me."

It was strange; they had parted ways almost as easily as if they had never been together at all. In the last few days, he had been unusually quiet, but today she'd seen a side of him that had been missing for years.

Ever since the incident with Zarek, he had been careful not to slip in front of the press and to keep his outbursts among the staff to a minimum. The self-control necessary to achieve that goal had come at a steadily increasing price. He had lost some of his charisma, a considerable amount of his passion, and a piece of his conscience, but the incident on Aerelon seemed to have affected him more than she'd guessed.

He probably would have made an effort to attend the funerals of those killed if he could, because that was the Richard she knew. Except that if he did so, in the eyes of press it would be an admission that he'd made a mistake and he was right, he couldn't afford the political damage that it would cause. It reminded her that even if they were no longer romantically involved he would still need her. Then there was the end of his presidency… It was still over four and half years away and a lot could change in all that time. The more she thought about it, the more she wavered.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," she called, still slouched back in her chair, eyes closed.

"I'm not interrupting anything am I?" She finally straightened up at the sound of Richard's voice. He entered with visible caution and shut the door quietly behind him.

"No. No, I was just—" She sighed. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, nothing. I wanted to apologize, for earlier." He tried to smile around his palpable discomfort. "I didn't mean—I'm sorry for what I said. The truth is I'm still getting used to this."

"So am I."

It was obvious in that way that his gaze wandered that he didn't want to leave yet, but likewise didn't know what else to say. He seemed to find the opening he wanted when his hazel eyes came to rest on the Teacher of the Year plaque that she kept on the corner of her desk.

"I still remember the day I gave this to you," he said. He moved to pick the plaque up. "The sun was shining so bright, I didn't quite know where to look. And I remember, I had to fight down this overwhelming urge to ask you out for dinner right then and there. I don't know how I managed it. Things were so different then. I was different…" He ran his fingers over the engraving. "What happened?"

"Politics. You wanted the presidency." And you were willing to do whatever it took to get it.

"And I wanted you. I thought I could have both." He returned the plaque to her desk and finally looked at her. "I don't know what it was that changed your mind about me when we started all of this, so I don't expect an explanation for why it's over, but I want you to know, I don't regret any of it. If you ever change your mind again, well, you know where to find me." With that, he turned to leave.

"Richard," she called before he reached the door. He stopped with one hand on the doorknob, but he didn't look back. This was her best opportunity, she knew, to reverse the ending of their relationship, but she couldn't bring herself say the necessary words.

"I'm late for my meeting with Marcus," he said.

She allowed herself a momentary grimace of sympathy as she watched him go. She had only met Marcus once, but that was enough. He had all of Richard's faults, absolutely none of his charm, and a few other uniquely irritating characteristics, the least of which was that he had the swaggering arrogance she had come to associate with Colonial officers.

Alone again, she took a sip of water from the glass on her desk and slumped back into her chair, grateful that there was nothing very pressing left in her day that couldn't be put off. She didn't care that it meant she was going to have to spend her weekend locked in a room with Wally and Representative Simmons.

That evening she returned to the familiar comfort of her apartment, physically exhausted, but still thinking about Richard. The next few weeks would be the hardest and then as more time went by it would be easier, but right now she had to fight off the temptation to call his office. He was working late with Cathrin and Dominik tonight going over plans to address the chaos on Aerelon and fend off the deluge of negative press.

When dinner and a few glasses of wine failed to derail her thoughts of Richard, she got up from her couch and went into the bedroom to dig out her paint supplies and a blank canvas. She didn't know what she was going to paint, but it hardly mattered so long as it kept her away from the phone. As far as she was concerned, there was no going back now.

AN: Thanks for reading, reviews are welcome, as always. -SVR