So tiny, so fragile, yet clinging so tenaciously to life. Perfectly formed, a tiny fist waved in her direction.

Her hand, shaking slightly, hovered over the glass, never quite touching.

"Thank you!" For my life, for my future, for the dizzying freedom from pain.

Looking at the infant bundled in the incubator that was keeping her alive, Laura found her instinct to protect the child stronger than she would have expected. And yet how could it not be, not only was this child the reason she was alive, but she was so small and helpless.

It was hard to believe that here, lying in front of her, looking exactly like a fully human baby, was the Cylons' greatest hope. 'The shape of things to come.' And in what possible way could what was good for the Cylons mean anything but disaster for the human race.

The Cylons within the fleet and those chasing them would not give up until they had Hera. She could not allow this tiny, unthreatening creature to live. Yet equally, she knew, she could not kill her. Nor could she sentence her to death by default. There was no doubt in Laura's mind that if Hera were allowed to remain within the fleet, someone would take revenge for a lost son or daughter, mother or father, on a child who had done nothing, nothing other than live despite all odds against her very existence.

There was only one option, and there were only two people who needed to be involved to accomplish it.

Her many trips to Life Station meant that she knew her way around, had been able to find the child, and had the added bonus of making her presence here somewhat unremarkable, yet she couldn't linger here much longer without being noticed.

Fingertips rested gently and briefly on top of the incubator, a silent prayer given, a silent promise made.

"You realize that no-one must know."

"I would like to see her from time to time."

---

Bleak. Empty. Hollow victory. Meaningless congratulations. All for a single purpose, the only reason strong enough to ride roughshod over principles held for a lifetime. She would bear, would even choose, this tear on the fabric of her soul because the survival of her people required it.

She had known it was over. When 'Racetrack' jumped into that nebula in error, and came across a somewhat habitable planet. When Tom Zarek's political savvy saw the potential of it. The fleet was tired, and unsettled from months of headlong flight. They were ripe to be persuaded by the hope of a safe resting place. A place to lay down their burdens and rest. They couldn't see the pitfalls and the dangers of being taken in by the rhetoric, neither did they want to. So here she sat, listening to the polls come in and knowing that she had lost this fight, even though she had given them all she had and more. The only way to save them from themselves, was to allow Tory to follow through on whatever plan she had. She knew it was going to be illegal, so she didn't ask any details, just gave Tory the nod. She would save her people, lead them to the promised land, in spite of themselves.

But it wasn't a victory she could celebrate, the final tally leaving her numb. His voice, barely muted surprise, echoed in the bleakness of her heart and she couldn't even find the energy to dissemble, to fake the joy she should be feeling at her 'victory'.

The call announcing his imminent arrival was unwelcome, but unfortunately not totally unexpected. Then he was in her office, confronting her with the facts of what had been done. She was shocked only to hear of who had been involved, astute enough to have guessed the probable mechanism. As she stood before him, as she admitted her own culpability, she knew he would not be happy to allow it to stand. He might understand her motives and theirs, she believed he would realize this was not about power for her, but he would come down on the side of the law. And she realized that while she was prepared to sacrifice herself over this, she could not order him to commit an illegal act. It seemed she had found her own line in the sand.

---

She was equal parts relieved to be free of the burden, and desperate at the fate her people had chosen. This could only end badly, and now there was nothing she could do but watch it happen.

And of course, she also had to endure Baltar's smug superciliousness in victory. Had to hand over the fate of the precious number on her whiteboard to a man she knew to be a traitor, not to mention quite possibly dangerously crazy.

She stood erect and proud, allowing no visible trace of the turmoil she felt inside, as she was forced to watch as Baltar was sworn in. She drew strength from the fact that Bill didn't hold her attempt against her, that she still had his personal support. Bill was a warm presence at her side, his Admiral façade firmly in place, a military leader doing his duty, but she felt the subtle brush of his fingers against hers, anchoring her.

Suddenly, the world went white, then black, as they were thrown about. She regained consciousness to find herself shielded against the floor by Bill's body. He took a brief moment to check her over, noting the lump on her head, and murmuring that she should get herself checked out by Cottle asap, before the Admiral swung into action, checking the President's safety, calling CIC for a sit rep and barking orders to his marines, before heading back to Galactica for a more detailed analysis of what had occurred.

Somehow in amongst all that, he had also ensured that the detail he had assigned to her had orders to arrange her transport over to Galactica as soon as was practical.

And that was how she found herself several hours later, curled into the leather of his couch, somewhat dazedly trying to process all the turns her life had taken in the last few hours and days, and trying to make sense of what she should do with herself now. She felt adrift, tossed hither and thither at the whim of others. Every thought and action for the last two years had been dictated solely by the needs of her people, leaving only brief moments for her to be Laura, to such an extent that she wasn't entirely sure she knew who Laura was anymore. The only sliver of a silver lining was the fact that now, finally, there was a chance for the future she and Bill had dreamed of, a chance they had both set aside at the end of the worlds. But as much as she would love to explore that opportunity, she knew she wasn't ready yet. She could only hope he would understand because she wasn't sure she had the words to explain it. So she awaited his arrival with anticipation and some dread. The other thought that was putting a dampener on any enthusiasm she could muster was the fact that Baltar's first order was to settle. She could see no option but that she would have to go planetside, and sooner rather than later. Her people still needed her, even if they had turned their backs on her. A school system needed to be set up, and she was the best qualified to do it. And there was no scenario where she could see Bill leaving Galactica in the near future. So would they actually be any closer to achieving their future?

Her thoughts were chasing themselves around in circles, with no end in sight, so she poured herself a glass of ambrosia, and padded over to Bill's bookshelves in search of something to distract her.

And so it was that he found her, her feet tucked under her on the couch, so lost in a novel that she wasn't immediately aware of his presence. He leaned against the hatch and simply watched her for a few long moments. As entranced by her beauty as ever, he was also aware of the toll the stresses her time as President had taken. He saw the fragility she masked so well in the political arena, and the quiet strength that enabled her to stand and fight.

He felt her pain at her peoples' short sightedness. He himself was angry, she had given them everything, even died for them, but that had counted for nothing, against the charisma of Baltar, and the promise of a chance to stop running.

He also knew that as carefully as he had had to handle her when they had first met, she would be doubly skittish now, so he had to tread extremely carefully if he wanted to finally see his ring on her finger.

He cleared his throat gently to make her aware of his presence, before pouring himself a drink and with a gesture asking if she wanted hers refilled. After filling the glass she held out for him, he seated himself next to her, only a fraction closer than he normally allowed himself, stretched his feet out onto the table and contemplated the liquid in his glass.

"Well it has certainly been an eventful day."

She felt herself torn between hysterical laughter and racking sobs at his thoughtful tone, and ironic words, and had to clamp down hard on her emotions to maintain a semblance of control.

She blinked back the tears that threatened once again, merely nodding in answer before scooting closer and laying her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her, pressed a small kiss against her hair and they sat in silence.