Fic: Omerta: Chapter Two
Title: Omerta: Chapter Two
Characters: Bill, Laura, OCs
Rating: T
Word Count: ~2400
Disclaimer: don't own them.
Summary: Bill and Laura continue to adapt to her rise in power as Guatrau.
A/N: Posted in honor of afrakaday's birthday. Much thanks to lanalucy and laura_mayfair for the beta.
A/N: First Chapter
The house had been fully converted into a place of service and celebration. They should have been celebrating the christening of Edward Roslin III, but that wasn’t to be. The dining room was loaded with fresh breads and pastries from the bakery, meats and cheeses from the deli, carved roasts from the butcher. Everyone, it seemed, had wanted to contribute something, to celebrate the lives of Edward Roslin and two of his daughters. Whether they knew him as Guatrau or Professor Roslin didn’t matter, they loved him just the same.
Laura greeted everyone in turn, thanking them for their outpouring of support. But she was systematically making her way toward her father’s office, which had long served as his study and conference room for Family Business. When she finally entered the room, the heads of the Families rose. She waved them off and took her seat at the head of the table. “Please sit, gentlemen. We won’t be long.”
Mr. Roth spoke from the other end of the table. “Ms. Roslin, we offer our sincerest condolences. Your father was a good man.”
She nodded. “Yes, he was. And my sisters, they were better than both of us. And my nephew would have been the light of our lives.” She gazed around the room. “Let’s not forget that. Any of us.”
They tried to hide their discomfort, but she caught their subtle movements, as though they were looking for the nearest exit. They knew what they’d done. Killing civilians was an infamita.
She sighed. “But enough of that. My father started a legacy, which I’ll continue for years to come.” She held out her hands as though welcoming them all into her arms, her home, her family. “You’ll leave this house as my friends.” Bill entered the room at that moment. She glanced up at him. “You all know my Consigliere. He’ll be working with me very closely for the next few weeks.”
Only Bill Adama could look at Laura with such respect, while simultaneously glowering at the men in the room. He stood in the center of the room so he could easily see everyone. Let them squirm.
She continued, “Each of you will need to schedule a meeting with me in the near future.” She smiled self-deprecatingly. “I’m still adjusting to the changes.” She clapped her hands. “But I have some ideas that’ll carry us into the next century - and beyond.”
At that clear dismissal, the gentlemen started filing out, one by one, kissing her hand and shaking Bill’s hand before exiting.
Once they were alone, Bill asked, “What are your ideas?”
She smirked. “What ideas?”
He let out a laugh that sounded more like a bark. Then he offered his hand so she could stand. “Come on, I’ll make you a sandwich.”
“You will, huh?”
“I’ll show you the Adama Maneuver, you’ll like it.”
“I have no doubt.” She placed her hand on his arm. “Speaking of maneuvers, is--”
“--Everything’s in place.”
“Good.”
She walked out of the room, her arm linked in Bill’s, and as she hit the light switch, she did so with the confidence those men would never sit in her father’s office again.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
She sat at her desk, preparing to make a few calls. It was approaching the end of term, and her work as superintendent was exploding, as it did every year. Incompetent teachers failing their students, angry parents, overwhelmed teachers (who weren’t quite incompetent). Caprica City schools were improving, however minutely, and she needed to remember that, especially in times like this.
Bill strode into the office and dropped a newspaper in front of her. “Thought you’d wanna see this.”
She glanced at the front page headline: The remaining Ha'la'tha members cut down. She looked up at Bill, who had taken his seat across from her. “What do you think?”
He shrugged. “There’ll be no investigation. The city officials are probably counting their blessings.”
“Hmm. Yes. You gotta love the poetic justice, Bill. They died exactly as they wanted to live.” She spoke with a hand gesture that mocked the Ha'la'tha movies Capricans were so fond of, as she added, “Like real Ha'la'tha gangsters.”
He chuckled at her imitation of the pop cultural representation of the Guatrau.
“What else?” she asked.
“That campaign worker keeps calling. Hoping you’ll join the team.”
She rolled her eyes. “As if I have time for that.” She snorted. “I’m trying to get away from politics.” There was something in his expression. A veiled...disapproval? “What?”
“It’s just...maybe that could be good for us, Laura.”
“Adar?” She raised a brow.
“He’s a moron, but with you by his side, he’d be unstoppable.”
She laughed. “It sounds like you’re saying I should run.”
He shook his head. “Not yet. But in the next election.” He met her eyes. “I’d be honored to be the campaign manager for Secretary Roslin.”
“Secretary Roslin?”
He shrugged. “It’s the least he could do after you win him the Presidency.”
“I was thinking of retiring. The summer cabin. Remember, Bill? When you taught me to swim in that lake?”
“When you taught me, you mean?” He chuckled. “Never saw anyone take to water so quickly.” He shook his head. “It’s a nice dream.”
“But not a reality?”
“I don’t think you could walk away. Not yet.”
She nodded. He knew her too well. She could walk away: She’d had enough years in the district to retire. Her family’s dealings had been completely legitimate and would remain so. There was nothing to prevent a clean break. Nothing but Laura herself. “I’ll think about it.” She gave him her harshest Administrator Glare. “Know this, if I enter that world, you’re coming with me.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“What about the other thing?”
He folded his hands in front of him. “My sources say she’s moving up the ranks. On the fast track to a command post.”
“And your sources?”
“My top guy is currently the CAG of Atlantia. He’s a good man, who knows he owes me everything he has.”
She hmmed. “Good. We’ll keep at it. I don’t care how long it takes, Bill.”
He stood up. “I’ll let you get back to work. It’s my night with the boys, but I’ll make you a sandwich before I go.”
She grinned before turning back to her personnel files. It was time to do some weeding. Secretary Roslin. She kind of liked the sound of that, but it would mean even more weeding.
/////////////////////////////////////////////////
After the fall of the Families, Laura and Bill had settled into their natural rhythms. In the quiet moments, Laura thought about her family: her mother’s quiet strength and inner confidence both within their family and the classroom, her father’s sense of justice and fairness, and her sisters’ endless capacity for love. Then she thought about the person who had taken most of that from her, probably without a moment’s consideration of the consequences.
One evening when Laura had been fifteen, she’d come home from school and gone to her father’s office, as was their custom: Since Laura had come of age at twelve and gotten her first - and only - tattoo, the mark of Tauron, on her back, she had sat alongside her father as he conducted business with the Adamas or anyone else in their Family. She had never spoken, but she had listened and observed, and paid particular attention to her father the Guatrau, Yusef the Consigliere, and Samuel the Caporegime. That evening, the Adama brothers, Bill, Mr. Fazekas - the late Fidelia’s cousin, and a young, sullen girl were in the study with her father. Mr. Fazekas had had the floor.
“....She was found in the middle of a battlefield, alone, and carrying only a knife.” Mr. Fazekas lowered his head. “Sounds like the makings of a Caporegime to me.”
Her father smiled, as did Samuel.
Mr. Fazekas continued, “My wife and I have cared for her, loved her as our own, but she has a greater purpose. Guatrau, please take her into your family.”
Her father nodded, and then looked to Samuel. “What do you think, Sam?”
Sam cleared his throat. It had always been common practice for her father’s top men to have a say in all Family affairs. That had been what made him such a beloved Guatrau. “I’m an old man now,” Sam said, with a twinkle in his eye. “I’m not the person to train young Helena; however, Larry and I have always regretted not having children. I would be happy to take her into our home. And my nephew, the future Caporegime will train her.”
Bill nodded, as Laura knew he had fully accepted his role within the family.
Sam smiled at the girl. “Is that acceptable, Helena?”
Helena nodded solemnly. “Yes, sir.”
And she’d been part of the family ever since. Helena had sat with Sandra and Cheryl during family dinners and picnics. She’d followed Bill’s lead during business meetings and his day-to-day routines. She’d been a near constant fixture for them all.
But there had been something about her Edward didn’t like. And although he’d always treated his youngest enforcer with the utmost respect, he had never shown her the warmth he’d shown everyone else in the family.
“Why don’t you like her, dad?” Laura asked once.
Edward sighed. “It’s not that I don’t like her, love. But there’s a darkness inside her.”
“Isn’t there one inside me and Bill?”
Edward gazed at Laura with such warmth. “It’s different with you two. It’s a devotion to your jobs, your family. That comes from a place of light. The epitome of ‘always faithful to the soil,’ of everything we stand for.”
Laura nodded, pleased her father held her and her best friend in such high regard. “And it’s not like that with Helena.” A statement, not a question, as her father had already confirmed as much.
He shook his head. Sadness and acceptance in equal measure.
Looking back, she should have known, as her father had seemingly predicted, that Helena would betray them. That she lacked something that kept the rest of them loyal. But Helena had been an Adama in all but blood, and that meant she’d been given certain latitudes. Frustrated with the communal lack of foresight, Laura went to the kitchen. Bill would be coming over in a few hours, and business was always more pleasant when discussed over cherry cake.
/////////////////////////////////////////////////
She sat at her dining room table, eating the sushi Bill had gotten for her. Who would have thought the Consigliere’s main purpose would be that of Food Enforcer? Her wireless phone rang. She checked the ID: Marcia. She sighed. She should get this over with. She reminded herself she loved her best friend - her other best friend. “When are you gonna get out there?” Marcia asked before Laura could utter a greeting.
And so it begins. “Hello to you too.”
“It’s been months, Laura.”
“I know that. I’m doing fine.”
“What if I said you could be even better? I know a guy who’d be perfect for you.”
Perfect, huh? “I’m not really interested in dating.”
“Oh, well, maybe you’ll finally agree to join Team Adar.”
“I’m even less interested in politics.”
Marcia snorted. “As your best friend, I’m giving you an ultimatum.”
Door Number One was probably the lesser of two evils. “Tell me about this perfect guy.”
“He’s a bit younger.”
“How much younger are we talking? What’s his name?”
“At least ten years, but he’s um, mature. Sean Ellis.”
“That sounds familiar. I wonder…” Oh gods, how awkward would that be?!
“From what I hear, though, you already have the perfect man, and he practically lives with you.”
“He does not….we work together. It’s all very...professional.”
“Not when a man looks at you like he does.”
How did Bill look at her? She’d never noticed. “I don’t know about that. Anyway, call Mr. Perfect Ellis and set it up. As for Mr. Adar, I haven’t decided yet.” She opted not to mention how even Bill had supported that move. She didn’t need her closest friends colluding.
////////////////////////////////////////////////////
She heard the lock click open on her front door. Bill. He entered the kitchen where she was slicing carrots. “How was the date?”
It wasn’t an odd question per se. Their love lives had never been in the “no fly zone,” but neither was particularly comfortable addressing it, so they usually didn’t. However, Laura dating was enough of a rarity to pique Bill’s interest and override his discomfort with awkward situations. Laura knew this. She also knew if she said anything that implied something other than her date had been a perfect gentleman, she would read about Sean’s “mysterious” death by the end of the week. He may be her Consigliere, but he was a Caporegime at heart; either way, his Guatrau’s honor and well being were his own, which was a great comfort to her.
She put down the blade, laying it flat on the counter, and faced him. “It was fine, Bill. We won’t be seeing each other again. And he knows not to call me.”
His eyes went dark. “What did he do?”
“He didn’t do anything.” She put up her hand. “I made a misstep. Gods know how long it’s been since I’ve dated. I’d rather not discuss it.”
That disarmed him. He stepped closer and his face softened. “Laura? You okay?”
She smiled both to reassure him and herself. “I’m fine. Better, even. I got back out there, and it didn’t kill me,” she said. “What’s more, I called Adar’s campaign manager.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“You were right. It’s a good opportunity for us. I’d be a fool not to take it.” She gazed at him, imploring him to challenge her. “And I’m many things, but not a fool.”
“Okay.”
Only Bill could provide the entire range of human emotions in one word. This time his “okay” spoke of excitement and loyalty. She was glad he was excited, at least. She was uncertain, at best, but confident she would find her footing before long.
“Why don’t you set the table? I’ll tell you the rest over lunch.”
Jump to the next chapter
Characters: Bill, Laura, OCs
Rating: T
Word Count: ~2400
Disclaimer: don't own them.
Summary: Bill and Laura continue to adapt to her rise in power as Guatrau.
A/N: Posted in honor of afrakaday's birthday. Much thanks to lanalucy and laura_mayfair for the beta.
A/N: First Chapter
The house had been fully converted into a place of service and celebration. They should have been celebrating the christening of Edward Roslin III, but that wasn’t to be. The dining room was loaded with fresh breads and pastries from the bakery, meats and cheeses from the deli, carved roasts from the butcher. Everyone, it seemed, had wanted to contribute something, to celebrate the lives of Edward Roslin and two of his daughters. Whether they knew him as Guatrau or Professor Roslin didn’t matter, they loved him just the same.
Laura greeted everyone in turn, thanking them for their outpouring of support. But she was systematically making her way toward her father’s office, which had long served as his study and conference room for Family Business. When she finally entered the room, the heads of the Families rose. She waved them off and took her seat at the head of the table. “Please sit, gentlemen. We won’t be long.”
Mr. Roth spoke from the other end of the table. “Ms. Roslin, we offer our sincerest condolences. Your father was a good man.”
She nodded. “Yes, he was. And my sisters, they were better than both of us. And my nephew would have been the light of our lives.” She gazed around the room. “Let’s not forget that. Any of us.”
They tried to hide their discomfort, but she caught their subtle movements, as though they were looking for the nearest exit. They knew what they’d done. Killing civilians was an infamita.
She sighed. “But enough of that. My father started a legacy, which I’ll continue for years to come.” She held out her hands as though welcoming them all into her arms, her home, her family. “You’ll leave this house as my friends.” Bill entered the room at that moment. She glanced up at him. “You all know my Consigliere. He’ll be working with me very closely for the next few weeks.”
Only Bill Adama could look at Laura with such respect, while simultaneously glowering at the men in the room. He stood in the center of the room so he could easily see everyone. Let them squirm.
She continued, “Each of you will need to schedule a meeting with me in the near future.” She smiled self-deprecatingly. “I’m still adjusting to the changes.” She clapped her hands. “But I have some ideas that’ll carry us into the next century - and beyond.”
At that clear dismissal, the gentlemen started filing out, one by one, kissing her hand and shaking Bill’s hand before exiting.
Once they were alone, Bill asked, “What are your ideas?”
She smirked. “What ideas?”
He let out a laugh that sounded more like a bark. Then he offered his hand so she could stand. “Come on, I’ll make you a sandwich.”
“You will, huh?”
“I’ll show you the Adama Maneuver, you’ll like it.”
“I have no doubt.” She placed her hand on his arm. “Speaking of maneuvers, is--”
“--Everything’s in place.”
“Good.”
She walked out of the room, her arm linked in Bill’s, and as she hit the light switch, she did so with the confidence those men would never sit in her father’s office again.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
She sat at her desk, preparing to make a few calls. It was approaching the end of term, and her work as superintendent was exploding, as it did every year. Incompetent teachers failing their students, angry parents, overwhelmed teachers (who weren’t quite incompetent). Caprica City schools were improving, however minutely, and she needed to remember that, especially in times like this.
Bill strode into the office and dropped a newspaper in front of her. “Thought you’d wanna see this.”
She glanced at the front page headline: The remaining Ha'la'tha members cut down. She looked up at Bill, who had taken his seat across from her. “What do you think?”
He shrugged. “There’ll be no investigation. The city officials are probably counting their blessings.”
“Hmm. Yes. You gotta love the poetic justice, Bill. They died exactly as they wanted to live.” She spoke with a hand gesture that mocked the Ha'la'tha movies Capricans were so fond of, as she added, “Like real Ha'la'tha gangsters.”
He chuckled at her imitation of the pop cultural representation of the Guatrau.
“What else?” she asked.
“That campaign worker keeps calling. Hoping you’ll join the team.”
She rolled her eyes. “As if I have time for that.” She snorted. “I’m trying to get away from politics.” There was something in his expression. A veiled...disapproval? “What?”
“It’s just...maybe that could be good for us, Laura.”
“Adar?” She raised a brow.
“He’s a moron, but with you by his side, he’d be unstoppable.”
She laughed. “It sounds like you’re saying I should run.”
He shook his head. “Not yet. But in the next election.” He met her eyes. “I’d be honored to be the campaign manager for Secretary Roslin.”
“Secretary Roslin?”
He shrugged. “It’s the least he could do after you win him the Presidency.”
“I was thinking of retiring. The summer cabin. Remember, Bill? When you taught me to swim in that lake?”
“When you taught me, you mean?” He chuckled. “Never saw anyone take to water so quickly.” He shook his head. “It’s a nice dream.”
“But not a reality?”
“I don’t think you could walk away. Not yet.”
She nodded. He knew her too well. She could walk away: She’d had enough years in the district to retire. Her family’s dealings had been completely legitimate and would remain so. There was nothing to prevent a clean break. Nothing but Laura herself. “I’ll think about it.” She gave him her harshest Administrator Glare. “Know this, if I enter that world, you’re coming with me.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“What about the other thing?”
He folded his hands in front of him. “My sources say she’s moving up the ranks. On the fast track to a command post.”
“And your sources?”
“My top guy is currently the CAG of Atlantia. He’s a good man, who knows he owes me everything he has.”
She hmmed. “Good. We’ll keep at it. I don’t care how long it takes, Bill.”
He stood up. “I’ll let you get back to work. It’s my night with the boys, but I’ll make you a sandwich before I go.”
She grinned before turning back to her personnel files. It was time to do some weeding. Secretary Roslin. She kind of liked the sound of that, but it would mean even more weeding.
/////////////////////////////////////////////////
After the fall of the Families, Laura and Bill had settled into their natural rhythms. In the quiet moments, Laura thought about her family: her mother’s quiet strength and inner confidence both within their family and the classroom, her father’s sense of justice and fairness, and her sisters’ endless capacity for love. Then she thought about the person who had taken most of that from her, probably without a moment’s consideration of the consequences.
One evening when Laura had been fifteen, she’d come home from school and gone to her father’s office, as was their custom: Since Laura had come of age at twelve and gotten her first - and only - tattoo, the mark of Tauron, on her back, she had sat alongside her father as he conducted business with the Adamas or anyone else in their Family. She had never spoken, but she had listened and observed, and paid particular attention to her father the Guatrau, Yusef the Consigliere, and Samuel the Caporegime. That evening, the Adama brothers, Bill, Mr. Fazekas - the late Fidelia’s cousin, and a young, sullen girl were in the study with her father. Mr. Fazekas had had the floor.
“....She was found in the middle of a battlefield, alone, and carrying only a knife.” Mr. Fazekas lowered his head. “Sounds like the makings of a Caporegime to me.”
Her father smiled, as did Samuel.
Mr. Fazekas continued, “My wife and I have cared for her, loved her as our own, but she has a greater purpose. Guatrau, please take her into your family.”
Her father nodded, and then looked to Samuel. “What do you think, Sam?”
Sam cleared his throat. It had always been common practice for her father’s top men to have a say in all Family affairs. That had been what made him such a beloved Guatrau. “I’m an old man now,” Sam said, with a twinkle in his eye. “I’m not the person to train young Helena; however, Larry and I have always regretted not having children. I would be happy to take her into our home. And my nephew, the future Caporegime will train her.”
Bill nodded, as Laura knew he had fully accepted his role within the family.
Sam smiled at the girl. “Is that acceptable, Helena?”
Helena nodded solemnly. “Yes, sir.”
And she’d been part of the family ever since. Helena had sat with Sandra and Cheryl during family dinners and picnics. She’d followed Bill’s lead during business meetings and his day-to-day routines. She’d been a near constant fixture for them all.
But there had been something about her Edward didn’t like. And although he’d always treated his youngest enforcer with the utmost respect, he had never shown her the warmth he’d shown everyone else in the family.
“Why don’t you like her, dad?” Laura asked once.
Edward sighed. “It’s not that I don’t like her, love. But there’s a darkness inside her.”
“Isn’t there one inside me and Bill?”
Edward gazed at Laura with such warmth. “It’s different with you two. It’s a devotion to your jobs, your family. That comes from a place of light. The epitome of ‘always faithful to the soil,’ of everything we stand for.”
Laura nodded, pleased her father held her and her best friend in such high regard. “And it’s not like that with Helena.” A statement, not a question, as her father had already confirmed as much.
He shook his head. Sadness and acceptance in equal measure.
Looking back, she should have known, as her father had seemingly predicted, that Helena would betray them. That she lacked something that kept the rest of them loyal. But Helena had been an Adama in all but blood, and that meant she’d been given certain latitudes. Frustrated with the communal lack of foresight, Laura went to the kitchen. Bill would be coming over in a few hours, and business was always more pleasant when discussed over cherry cake.
/////////////////////////////////////////////////
She sat at her dining room table, eating the sushi Bill had gotten for her. Who would have thought the Consigliere’s main purpose would be that of Food Enforcer? Her wireless phone rang. She checked the ID: Marcia. She sighed. She should get this over with. She reminded herself she loved her best friend - her other best friend. “When are you gonna get out there?” Marcia asked before Laura could utter a greeting.
And so it begins. “Hello to you too.”
“It’s been months, Laura.”
“I know that. I’m doing fine.”
“What if I said you could be even better? I know a guy who’d be perfect for you.”
Perfect, huh? “I’m not really interested in dating.”
“Oh, well, maybe you’ll finally agree to join Team Adar.”
“I’m even less interested in politics.”
Marcia snorted. “As your best friend, I’m giving you an ultimatum.”
Door Number One was probably the lesser of two evils. “Tell me about this perfect guy.”
“He’s a bit younger.”
“How much younger are we talking? What’s his name?”
“At least ten years, but he’s um, mature. Sean Ellis.”
“That sounds familiar. I wonder…” Oh gods, how awkward would that be?!
“From what I hear, though, you already have the perfect man, and he practically lives with you.”
“He does not….we work together. It’s all very...professional.”
“Not when a man looks at you like he does.”
How did Bill look at her? She’d never noticed. “I don’t know about that. Anyway, call Mr. Perfect Ellis and set it up. As for Mr. Adar, I haven’t decided yet.” She opted not to mention how even Bill had supported that move. She didn’t need her closest friends colluding.
////////////////////////////////////////////////////
She heard the lock click open on her front door. Bill. He entered the kitchen where she was slicing carrots. “How was the date?”
It wasn’t an odd question per se. Their love lives had never been in the “no fly zone,” but neither was particularly comfortable addressing it, so they usually didn’t. However, Laura dating was enough of a rarity to pique Bill’s interest and override his discomfort with awkward situations. Laura knew this. She also knew if she said anything that implied something other than her date had been a perfect gentleman, she would read about Sean’s “mysterious” death by the end of the week. He may be her Consigliere, but he was a Caporegime at heart; either way, his Guatrau’s honor and well being were his own, which was a great comfort to her.
She put down the blade, laying it flat on the counter, and faced him. “It was fine, Bill. We won’t be seeing each other again. And he knows not to call me.”
His eyes went dark. “What did he do?”
“He didn’t do anything.” She put up her hand. “I made a misstep. Gods know how long it’s been since I’ve dated. I’d rather not discuss it.”
That disarmed him. He stepped closer and his face softened. “Laura? You okay?”
She smiled both to reassure him and herself. “I’m fine. Better, even. I got back out there, and it didn’t kill me,” she said. “What’s more, I called Adar’s campaign manager.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“You were right. It’s a good opportunity for us. I’d be a fool not to take it.” She gazed at him, imploring him to challenge her. “And I’m many things, but not a fool.”
“Okay.”
Only Bill could provide the entire range of human emotions in one word. This time his “okay” spoke of excitement and loyalty. She was glad he was excited, at least. She was uncertain, at best, but confident she would find her footing before long.
“Why don’t you set the table? I’ll tell you the rest over lunch.”
Jump to the next chapter