Political Animal

***

Laura starts each morning with a cup of weak coffee and the overnight asides from all of the Colonial ships. It's a hold over from Adar's presidency that she just can't allow herself to let go. Legion were the mornings where she'd find him up before the birds with a cup of coffee and a stack of papers. It's both a silent homage and a necessity as while Colonial One keeps hours with Galactica, others in the fleet are busy all the hours of the day.

It's also wonderful to continue it now that she doesn't feel like shooting herself in the head all the time. One thing she can say about her miracle cure is that it's been great for her morning disposition.

Not, however, so much this morning.

"Is this real?" She knows she sounds incredulous, but... well, this is probably not the best news she's ever recieved. Not the worst - oh, definitely not the worst - but this was also highly unexpected. Gods, she's frakking stupid not to have anticipated this.

That crazy frakking weasel. The papers make a sharp hard, satisfying slap as she slams them down on her desk.

The night before, surrounded by all the light and flash and shininess left in their world, at a party she'd asked him to attend so she could catch up on the overwhelming paperwork that he'd done nothing about during her illness, he'd announced that he was going to run in the next elections.

That... ASS.

"Billy?" She knows her aide is nearby. It's a weird kind of radar that developed early and has only gotten sharper in the last few years.

"Yes, Madam President?"

"Do you think we still have time to have him killed?" She mostly means it in a funny way. Mostly.

Billy is deadpan and dry in a way she wouldn't have thought he could be six months ago. It's a sadness, but weirdly comforting. "I don't think so ma'am. Although, you do have the Admiral on speed-dial."

She laughs, but the solid knot of dread tightens in her stomach. Things are about to change, and she knows she doesn't want that.

-fin-

Back.