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Her head ached. Really, her entire body did, but the throbbing at her temples seemed more prominent than the other aches and pains, and it made her leave her glasses off, safely tucked in her blazer pocket that she had abandoned on the uncomfortable bench beside Baltar. She wanted to blame the bright lights and the incoherent nonsense from the Hybrid, but she knew there was more to it than that and despite her conversations with Elosha, that wasn’t a path she was fully prepared to walk down yet.
The sound of approaching footsteps and the echoing steps of a Centurion pulled her from her thoughts. Slowly, she stretched her legs out and winced as her knees cracked, already looking up as Helo entered the room. She couldn’t read the expression on his face and it made her frown. He offered his hand and she accepted it after a moment, allowing him to gently pull her to her feet, lightly gripping her elbow as she regained her balance and huffed out a breath.
“What is it?” she asked, wondering why he hadn’t spoken up yet and disliking the anxiety that creeped up her neck. It wasn’t helped by the watching Centurion that waited off to the side and the cryptic Hybrid beside them.
“Cylons picked up an inbound Raptor,” he finally said, his hand lingering on her arm. Neither pulled back and she was grateful for the stability as his words washed over her. “No response yet, but I thought you’d want to—”
“It’s Bill,” she whispered, her legs nearly giving out and forcing her to lean into Helo. He took her weight without complaint, only adjusting his stance to better hold her up.
“Madam President…”
She shook her head, the pain in her head suddenly dwarfed by the rush of blood from her pounding heart. “It’s Bill,” she repeated, more certain, more definitively. “I need…” She forced herself to take a deep breath, to try to calm her racing heart and mind that were speeding up her breathing too. When her body had calmed and she could stand on her own, Helo reluctantly stepping back, she tried again, “I’ll meet the Raptor in the Hangar Bay..”
“I don’t know if they’ll accept this,” he warned, his eyes narrowing as he watched her.
“I’m not asking them to; I’m telling you what I’m doing. I’ll meet Bill’s Raptor alone.”
“Madam President, with all due respect—”
“Usually, Captain,” she interrupted again, “when someone begins a sentence with that, they’re about to say something offensive or condescending.”
Helo closed his mouth and glanced back at the Centurion, then cleared his throat. “I’ll see what I can do, but can we at least confirm it’s the Admiral first?”
There wasn’t a single doubt in Laura’s mind about who flew the Raptor headed for them. Elosha’s words echoed in her head and drove up her confidence.
Maybe even closer.
“Fine,” she agreed, her hands landing on her hips as she stared up at Helo. “Let’s go.”
She stepped into her heels—not that they did much to close the height difference between them—and hurried past the Centurion into the red-lit hallway. She heard both man and Cylon follow behind her but didn’t bother glancing back, instead trying to ignore the way the Centurion made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Even a year later, she could still picture the desolate desert, hear the approaching execution squad, and feel the hard dirt as she threw herself and Zarek down the hill and out of the way. The sound of the Centurion metal on metal and the way it reverberated around her only kept the memories that much fresher and she despised having her back to it, even with Helo there too.
Only the thought of Bill, of how close he was, allowed her to bury those thoughts in the back of her mind. By the time she walked into the basestar’s CIC, memories of New Caprica had been securely locked away again and she could focus on the matter at hand.
“Have you made contact with the Raptor?” she asked, withholding a smirk when every head in the room turned toward her.
“Yes.” The Eight—Sharon—nodded her head and turned to fully face her. “Admiral Adama came alone. He’s preparing to land shortly.”
Laura immediately turned away to meet Helo’s gaze; he had stopped beside her, slightly in front with the Centurion by the entrance with another. He nodded in response to her unasked question and she directed her gaze back to the staring Cylons.
“I’ll meet the Admiral’s Raptor.” She crossed her arms over her chest and regarded them calmly, her eyes narrowed slightly.
“We have Centurions and a Six to welcome it,” the Eight replied and Laura’s eyes narrowed further.
“You misunderstand me.” Her tone dropped, still calm, but warningly so. “I will meet the Raptor alone. No Centurions, no Cylons.”
“We can’t allow—”
“Then by all means, stop me.” The words came out as a threat thrown over her shoulder, her body already turning toward the corridor and her feet carrying her forward.
She left silence behind, mildly surprised when neither Centurion blocked her exit or appeared to even register her existence. She silently offered her gratitude to anything listening and was halfway down the hallway before she heard someone hurrying after her. She continued walking, but her eyes briefly closed as she tried to collect herself.
“Yes?” Her tone was warning again and a quick glance told her it was Helo who served as her companion again.
“I’ll wait outside,” he offered, a hand held up in surrender. “Just in case.”
“I highly doubt the Admiral is a threat you need to protect me from,” she scoffed, absently and vainly adjusting her wig as they continued quickly toward the basestar’s Hangar Bay.
“No, but the Centurions may need to be protected from you.”
Her steps paused and she looked up at him in surprise, a small smile forming when she realized he was teasing. She resumed walking and slowly shook her head as she fiddled with her hands in the absence of pockets in her pants. “I appreciate it,” she said after a moment.
Helo only nodded and they walked the rest of the way in silence.
They reached the Hangar Bay just after the Raptor had landed and was being towed away from the hangar doors. As the Eight had said, a small group of Centurions and a Six waited near the middle of the room and all stared at the approaching ship. Laura approached them with zero hesitation and Helo at her back, struggling to focus on them and not the shadow she could barely make out in the cockpit. Her heart beat faster and she tried to will it to calm down before it beat out of her chest.
“You’re dismissed,” she told them when she was close enough.
The Six cleared her throat and stepped closer, her head swiveling from Laura to the Raptor and back. “We have our orders to greet Admiral Adama and escort him to my sisters and the Eights.”
“And I am telling you that you’re dismissed. The Admiral no longer requires an escort, thank you.” Her tone was clipped, short, and she briefly considered attempting to physically remove the Cylons from the room. She assumed Helo could handle a few of the Centurions, but they were frakked if it came anywhere close to that.
“This isn’t what we agreed—”
“Leave now and you have my word that the Admiral will meet with D’Anna and the other models.” Laura was tired of arguing and pushing for every little thing and it reflected in the firm, deeply-set frown on her face.
The Six considered her for a moment, then looked to Helo. Laura didn’t shift her gaze from the Six—and the quickly approaching Raptor she could see over her shoulder—but whatever Six got from Helo convinced her.
“We will wait outside,” she agreed after another moment.
Helo stepped closer and Laura felt him brush her right side. “I’ll keep an eye on them, Madam President.” He paused. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she replied instinctively, surprised to find herself a little breathless. “Thank you.” Her voice softened, but everything else was fading from her mind. The Raptor was finally close enough that she could see for herself that it was Bill who sat in the cockpit and the sight made her heart flutter.
She didn’t turn around to watch Helo and the Cylons leave, but she felt the room go quiet and trusted Helo to uphold his word. All she could do was stand out of the way with her hands folded behind her back and count each agonizing second until the Raptor finally, finally stopped and the hatch creaked open.