Chapter 4

Jay Gatsby entered Laura's suite and looked around the room as if he'd never seen it before. He beamed. "You know, counting last night, I think this is only the third time I've ever been inside this room?"

The comment would seem pretentious if uttered by another type of man but there was something in Jay's earnest blue eyes that made Laura believe that there wasn't an ounce of vanity in it. She surveyed the room along with him, appreciating its beauty and its warmth.

Laura smiled. "It's lovely. I guess you didn't have anything to do with the decor then?"

"I'm afraid I can't take any credit, no."

"But the house is new, isn't it?" Laura motioned to the creamy yellow linen tufted settee. "Please sit."

"Less than two years old." He sighed. "Sure does seem like I've been here much longer though."

Laura settled down across from him. She wondered what in the world could make Jay Gatsby, with his youth and his wealth, and with a life that sprawled out in front of him with seemingly endless possibility - seem almost wistful.

"Jay, thank you so much for everything that you've done for Tom and me. There's no possible way I can express to you how much we appreciate it. We're new to the area but we'll look for employment and -"

"No, no, no, no." He shook his head vehemently at her. "Mrs. Zarek - Laura. I don't want anything. Stay for the summer as my guests. Get on your feet. It would actually be refreshing to have some folks around who are here by express invitation." He chuckled. "Please. You bring some class to the place. I do have to ask though - and I hope you'll forgive me for being so forward." He shifted uncomfortably. "You and Tom aren't in any trouble, are you, with the law I mean?"

"No," said Laura. "Nothing like that."

Jay released a breath. "I didn't think so. And I'm sorry for asking."

"You have a right to inquire about the people you're opening up your home to," said Laura. "Our situation is….complicated."

Jay slipped a smooth hand inside the front pocket of his pinstripe suit and pulled out a small gold case. "Do you smoke?"

"No. Thank you."

"You don't mind if - ?"

"Of course not."

Jay rose and retrieved an ashtray from the desk drawer that looked like it had never been used. He sat back down. "You don't have to explain. I think I get it."

Laura leaned forward a little, curious. "Oh?"

"Well, Laura, I'll be the first one to admit that I think divorce should be easier. Sometimes things just don't work out for - lots of reasons. You and Tom aren't wearing any wedding rings. In the car yesterday, he mentioned a new start for you two so I just kind of thought that well - maybe your husband wouldn't grant you a divorce so you picked up and started fresh. Look, I don't fault you for it. Lots of folks in your predicament. And it's always harder on the lady, I think."

Laura relaxed. Although she wondered what kind of a place had such odd customs regarding the dissolution of marriage, she wasn't about to contradict what appeared to be a plausible explanation for her and Tom showing up in the middle of the night. If a clandestine love affair did the trick, then so be it.

"You're right," she said, feeling somewhat guilty about lying to Mr. Gatsby. But really - she could never tell him the truth about where she and Tom had come from. From the little she'd seen of this planet, she doubted that these people possessed the kind of technology that would make their arrival anything but extraordinary. And she didn't want to be extraordinary; she wanted to blend.

"Hey, don't worry. your secret is completely safe with me." Jay offered her another artless smile and there was nothing but kind reassurance in his eyes. He put a hand over the center of his chest. "Cross my heart."

Laura nodded because the right words were caught in her throat. She was much more used to being hunted than helped. Fleeing had become an ingrained reflex. Since the attacks, when was there a time that she wasn't forced to run? But sanctuary - this was new. For the second time in the space of a few hours, she felt the familiar prickle of oncoming tears. She swallowed. "Thank you."

Jay looked away for a moment and she was grateful for the small reprieve he was giving her to recover her composure. He brushed invisible lint off of his pants and cleared his throat. "How are you feeling today? I should have asked you that first thing."

"Better. Dr. Cobrin has been wonderful."

"And Tom?"

"Tom's improving, too. He went for a walk. He'll be back shortly."

"Look, if there's anything else that you two need…"

Laura reached out and patted his hand. "You're a gem, do you know that? I wonder if - do you have any books? A newspaper perhaps?"

Jay grinned. "Well, that's way too easy. Come on." He stood up and offered her his arm. "Are you up for a little walk? It's downstairs…."

Laura accepted his arm and fell into step beside him. "If we go slow."

Jay assisted Laura down the stairs and led her to what appeared to be a deceptively small study with polished mahogany walls. As she stepped in a little further, she observed how the entryway opened up as she turned the corner. The room was actually quite large - and it was filled wall to wall with books. In contrast to the suite she shared with Tom, with its softly feminine color scheme, this room was lush with earth tones. The furniture was a rich brown leather. Two moss green loveseats were neatly arranged at perpendicular angles by a round table. Amber colored pillows with small tassels accented the deep green. The floor length windows gave the room plenty of light, offsetting the darkness of the wood.

"You know," said Jay, "I think you're the first guest who's actually asked to see the library. People usually only stumble into this room by accident. You're a reader?" He watched as Laura pulled a book from the shelf and opened it up.

"Yes, I love to read. I was a teacher." Laura smoothed the crisp pages with reverent fingertips. She had always enjoyed the distinct scent of a new book, fresh ink and clean paper. This one puzzled her a little though. She was surprised and pleased to discover that she could glean the gist of the text but she'd never seen pages like this before. They were folded over and connected, two by two. She decided that it must be a printing defect.

"Oh," said Jay. His tone was apologetic. "I didn't have all of the pages separated." He looked embarrassed. "Break in whatever you like." He opened a desk drawer and produced a pair of scissors. She watched him as he carefully cut a few pages of the book, severing the connected ones and making each page individual. "I guess I haven't read 'em all," he said sheepishly.

"Well," said Laura, "there are an awful lot of books here for one person." It dawned on her that the uncut pages must indicate that the books had never been read. She wondered why Jay looked so chagrined about it. She placed a hand over her heart the way he had done earlier. "Your secret is safe with me." Her lips tilted upward into a slow smile.

"Thanks, Laura." Jay visibly relaxed and he grinned back at her with conspiratory glee. "Virginia? It's gotta be."

Laura didn't have the foggiest idea what he'd just said. "I'm sorry?"

"Tom said you're from the south but your accent - I can't place it. You're not a Georgia girl, that's for sure."

"Oh….Virginia. Yes. Exactly." Laura quickly changed the subject. She didn't have enough knowledge of this world to even fake her origins. She looked toward the window. "What a beautiful day it is. Tom must be enjoying his walk."

There was something in Jay's expression that told her he was much too astute to miss her attempted deflection. But he didn't pry further. Laura continued to browse the bookshelves. She'd really have to explore the choices more thoroughly when her head felt better. She wanted books that were historical and informational. Most of these appeared to be novels. She chose a few at random to bring back to the suite she shared with Tom.

"Laura?" Jay said. She turned around and watched him place the book and scissors down on the coffee table, "do you think I could ask you for a favor?"

"Yes." Laura gave a light laugh. "after everything you're doing for us, I certainly wish you would. If I can help you, I'd like to."

"You know the way you and Mr. Zarek are….friends?" He said friends but Laura knew that's not what he meant at all. He meant lovers. Laura nodded and he continued on. "I have a lady friend who's coming over for supper the night after next and it's just been so long since we've...connected...and I want everything to be perfect but I don't want to seem too forward so I was wondering if - "

"Tom and I would love to have dinner with you and - "

Laura watched as Jay's expression melted into relief. "Daisy. Daisy Buchanan." He uttered her name like it was a veneration and his face was transfigured by the rapt release of breath and syllables. "Laura, thank you. You're amazing."

"You might tell Tom that," she said, flushing a little at the compliment.

"Oh, he clearly knows that."

She raised a quizzical eyebrow and Jay laughed. "Well, it's pretty obvious that he adores you."

Laura could only smile. Tom didn't adore her, not by any stretch of the imagination. It was sweet, really. Jay Gatsby was obviously in love, and in the heedless way that only youthful love could be, when it colored the whole world in fragrant rose-tipped hues. It was pretty strong stuff, indeed, if it could make her and Tom Zarek appear cozy.

"I'm very lucky," she somehow managed.

Jay glowed. "I won't say a word to anyone about your secret, Laura." He hesitated. "Is it all right if I tell Daisy?"

"We appreciate your discretion and you can count on ours. And yes, you can tell your friend Daisy."

"I think it might help if she could see that there are other possibilities." Jay glanced at his watch. "Yikes. I've monopolized you long enough. I should get you back upstairs before Tom gets worried." In gentlemanly fashion, he picked up the small pile of books that she'd selected and tucked them under one arm while offering her the other.

She took it. "Thanks, Jay. That's probably a good idea. I am a little tired."

Tom was just coming out of the bathroom when he heard voices. Laura's voice was familiar enough with its mellow timbre and unhurried grace but it took him a moment to recognize the male voice as Gatsby's.

"Morning, Jay," said Tom, as they entered the room. "Well, probably more like afternoon now, isn't it?"

"I can't think of a better reason for some extra sleep than what you two went through last night. How are you doing today?"

Tom focused on Laura, his gaze sharp. "Oh, I'm on the mend. My wife has been showering me with attention and goodwill." He gave her a buttery smile that failed to reach his eyes.

"Jay was just showing me his library," said Laura coolly. "It's wonderful."

Gatsby seemed pleased by the praise. "Well, you both feel free make good use of it anytime you like." He paused at the doorway. You know, you're more than welcome to join me for dinner tonight if you'd like."

Laura gave him a regretful smile. "Thanks, Jay, but I'm still not quite up to it and Tom should probably rest his knee. But the day after tomorrow, definitely." She turned to Tom. "Jay has invited us to have dinner with him and his friend Daisy."

"Thursday," affirmed their host. "I hope the clothes are working out okay. My tailor's stopping in tomorrow morning, Tom, so if you need any alterations, we can set that up."

"What, you don't like this suit on me?" asked Tom with a good-natured grin. He shook a floppy sleeve at Gatsby and the younger man's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Probably best not to answer that. I might take you up on your offer. Thanks."

"About ten," said Jay. "Well, enjoy your evening. Call Dennis if you need anything at all and - make yourselves at home. Pool's open, too, if you fancy a swim." He showed himself out.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Tom looked at Laura. "You really do find devoted followers wherever you go, don't you?"

Laura crossed her arms. "Are you insinuating something?"

Tom sat down on the edge of the bed and began unlacing a shoe. "No. That's not your style." Seeing her so amicable with Gatsby did get under his skin but it wasn't because he believed that there was anything brewing between them beyond friendship. It wasn't jealousy either. Heck, he even liked the guy. It was the fact that she could let her guard down with this virtual stranger but with him, she could barely manage a civil word. They'd faced death together - multiple times - shouldn't it count for something? Occupation, imprisonment, her mutiny against Adama, Baltar's stupidity...the list went on. But once the chips clattered across the board, he and Laura Roslin always wound up on opposite sides.

"What's my style, Tom?" Her voice didn't carry the slightest hint of emotion. That glacial calm of hers never failed to aggravate him. He'd rather see her get angry. Maybe if they could have a decent fight, something would change between them.

"Your style. Let's see. You're subtle and effective. You got Lee to square off against his own father. Thrace defied her military training and her loyalties and even risked her life to go do your bidding to fetch that arrow for you. I'm not sure what tactic you used there, although I'm suspecting that you played the religious card."

Something in her face changed; she didn't look quite so calm. It was her eyes, he realized. The color shifted from gray to green. Her mouth flattened into a straight line and she raised her chin a little.

Tom found that the words came faster now that he'd found a chink in her armor. "Adama, of course, was of pivotal importance. You kept your attack dog on a tight leash. I'm not sure if you frakked him but the truth is you probably didn't even need to. He was as enamored as the younger version was. I still wonder - was it his idea to toss me back in jail if I didn't roll over and hand you the presidency or was it yours?"

"You weren't in any danger after New Caprica," said Laura. "But we couldn't have a divided fleet."

"Hell of a democracy you had going there. Do you have any idea what it felt like to suddenly be deemed so expendable after…." His words jumbled together and he didn't give her a chance to answer before rolling into the next question. "You want to know the real irony though?"

"Yes," said Laura, and the softness in her voice squeezed the bitterness out of his tone. She sat down in the chair across from him and placed her hands in her lap.

"That morning when we were attacked, I was going to give it to you. I never had any illusions about holding onto power for very long. I'm a realist. Without military backing, it would have been impossible. But before I could talk to you about stepping down we had another one of our arguments." He shook his head and laughed. "Not so very different than the one we're having now. Then the attack came before I could work up the nerve to actually do it. I don't expect you to believe me."

Laura gave him a long look. "I believe you, Tom. But I'm a realist, too. What would you have wanted in return?"

He shrugged. "A say." He looked directly into her eyes. "Not to be on the outside looking in anymore."

"Okay," said Laura thoughtfully. "That's something I could have worked with. I might have even offered you the Vice-Presidency." She seemed almost surprised that those particular words came out of her mouth and Tom found himself wanting to believe her.

He gave a derisive snort. "That would have gone over well with Adama."

"It wouldn't have been his decision. You showed a lot of courage and conviction on New Caprica. The government needs people who possess those qualities."

"And this idea of yours wouldn't have anything to do with the expression, 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer,' now would it?"

He liked the way the wisp of a smile played at the corners of her mouth before actually bursting into bloom. "Probably. Although maybe we would have transitioned into 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend?'"

"I think we've already been there, Laura. There and back again."

She nodded slowly. "Maybe someday it will stick." They gazed at one another without saying anything until Laura broke the silence. "You missed brunch. There's a muffin for you over there by the blotter if you're hungry."

Tom unwrapped the banana walnut muffin from the neatly folded linen napkin. "You saved a muffin for me. Thanks, Laura. You want half?"

She shook her head. "No, my stomach is still off. I'll try to eat something later." He watched her turn to straighten the bedspread, which was already pretty darn straight in his opinion.

"I'm glad you got us into that pod thing," she said quietly, without looking at him.

It wasn't an apology for the things that she'd said earlier and he was poised to call her on it. But she turned around and sank down onto the bed, kicking her shoes off as she leaned back against the pillows. She looked tired. He hadn't exactly been kind or easy on her either. He resisted the impulse to take another verbal swing at her and decided to let it go instead.

"So dinner with Gatsby and Petunia?" said Tom around a mouthful of muffin, purposefully blundering the name of Gatsby's girlfriend. Just because he'd chosen not to snipe at her didn't mean he wouldn't ruffle her feathers a bit.

"Daisy." The affronted little huff thing she did with her shoulders and the accompanying glare she shot in his direction was worth it. He barely concealed a smile. "Jay thinks I'm fleeing a loveless marriage to be with you," she added.

"We don't have to pretend to be married anymore then?"

"Not exactly. I guess divorce is frowned upon so he thinks we're - don't make me explain it, Tom. Please."

Tom grinned and made a grandiose gesture. "Illicit lovers flouting the conventions of society to be together." He bit off another large chunk of muffin. "I can sell that."

Laura rolled over and grabbed a pillow like it was the enemy, arranging it under her head with force that bordered on brutality. "I brought a few books back from the library. I kind of just grabbed whatever was readily available. They're on the settee. We need to learn everything that we can about this place." She sighed. "Because we're probably going to be here for a while."