Of the Moment

***

"He wasn't your son."

She flinches at the whispered statement. Strangely, she doesn't find it odd that her eyes instantly mist up. Laura knows that she hasn't really grieved for her world or family or past students. She also knows that, like it or not, Billy's death brought all those feelings and angers and stresses to the surface in one big, gut-wrenching shot. His sightless eyes in that cold morgue had more than cracked her calm vaneer, it had all but decimated it.

And she'd worked like the hells to get that facade back. The facade Bill had just poked with a stick.

Rage bubbled hard and fast through her, moving so quickly and hotly, she had to grab on to the nearest table so she wouldn't sway with it.

"I am perfectly aware of that Admiral." Her voice betrays nothing of her actual emotion. Cold and flat, it does not match the other man's quiet tone. "He was only my aide and closest friend. And that completely doesn't matter because he has none of my blood in him. Therefore I can't care about his death at all."

"Madam President..."

"NO." She hates that her voice cracks. She takes a deep breath, letting it move through her. Trying to calm herself down so that she doesn't scream and throw something and burst into tears. GODS how she wants to do just that. Gods, beautiful, beautiful Billy with his kindness and care, and that expression that just screamed "I have no idea how to handle this, so I'm going to write it all down in case I have to organize it."

She wipes her face and eyes quickly, straightening her spine and turning to stare Admiral Adama down. "This is one subject we will not discuss. Not now. I am perfectly aware that we have to work together. It is for the good of the fleet and the good of humanity. I will set my feelings aside on this subject. I can gaurantee you that. But do not presume to speak to me on this subject because if you do, I will tell you in explicit detail - with tears - how angry I am at you, your son, and Petty Officer Dualla for getting that boy killed. Yes, I lay a good portion of the blame at your feet, and know that part of me will resent you for a very, very long time."

He nods at her, face closed off. So much so, she knows he's trying not to emote in any way shape or form. "I am sorry, Madam President. Shall we get to the briefing?"

She nods, feeling jerky and ripped apart and laid bare before this man. Running a hand over her face, she closes everything she had down and focuses. They need to do this. They need to run through this information and then she needs to go back to Colonial One and deal with the latest squabble between the captains of The Sonrisa and Gemenon Freighter #472. She had a headache and was exhausted and drained and wanted nothing more than to find the closest soft surface and cry for a year, but there were things that needed doing and giving in would do nothing.

Back straight and face clear, she moved towards her normal chair. "Let's do this."

-fin-

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