[Fic] The Agency: Troubles Compounded
Chapter Six: Not A Dictator
Rating: M
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Author's Note: For summary, categories, disclaimer and warnings, see Chapter One. This chapter is only very short, but it's all Bill and Laura, so I hope that makes up for it.
Chapter Six: Not A Dictator
The lights in the galley dimming pulled Bill out of his thoughts. He looked around, saw no one and guessed they must be on a timer. It was getting late. Sighing, he stood.
The main office now only had one agent, sitting at his desk and tapping away at a computer. Billy’s work area was abandoned, but the door to Roslin’s office was open a crack.
He pushed it in further, calling as he did, “Director Roslin?”
“Come in, Mister Adama,” she returned and he entered fully to find her sitting behind her desk.
“Chief Borders isn’t here?”
“I sent him home early. You’d never be able to tell, but he’s in a frantic state of worry over Suzanne, his wife.”
She gestured to a seat in front of the desk and he sat down, watching her eyes flick across a report in front of her. She signed it, then added it to a stack at her elbow, dropping her pen and leaning back in her chair with a sigh.
“Long day?” he asked.
She gave him a tired smile. “They always are.”
“Do you get home much?”
Roslin laughed and told him, “This is my home. I’m sure you saw the quarters in John’s office. Mine are through there and I actually use them.” She pointed to the other door in the room.
A bit surprised, Bill questioned, “You live here?”
Her smile turned wry. “I know it’s sad.” Before he could claim that that wasn’t what he was trying to imply, she continued, “The Agency is my life, Mister Adama. I’ve given it my all for over twenty five years now.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it.”
She waved the apology off. “I know. But it is sad.”
Relaxing somewhat, he gave her a warm smile. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.” She nodded. “That was what it was like for me in the Fleet. It’s a solitary lifestyle when you’re in command, but … it’s worth it.”
“You must miss it a great deal. I can’t imagine ever leaving here. In fact I’m sure I’ll be here until the day I die, throwing demands around.” The oddest look came over her face at those words, but she shook it off quickly and stood, walking over to a refreshment stand by the couch setting.
“Billy made me a pot of coffee before he left, would you like a cup? He makes great coffee.”
“Please.” He got up and followed her over, sighing as he sat back in the comfortable couch.
She started pouring. “You take it black, no sugar, don’t you?”
Looking at her curiously, he responded, “Yes. How did you know that?”
Her smile was knowing, smug even. “You think you’d have been freely allowed to walk into this facility if I didn’t know everything there was to know about you? And I do mean everything: your personal life, classified information and missions, psych evaluations, bank statements, your preferred liquor brands, what genre of music you enjoy, and, rather importantly, I think, how you take your coffee.”
As she brought over the mug and joined him on the couch, her gaze turned sympathetic. “I know it’s disconcerting, your entire life being laid out for another person to see. It feels like an invasion of your privacy. I understand, I’ve been there. But I’m afraid it’s the way we operate around here before offering someone a job, letting them see and know about everything we do.”
“How do you find it all out?”
“Our resources and sources extend further than you can imagine,” she explained. “I can have a file made up on anyone in the Colonies within a few hours after I’ve put my people on it. I had yours waiting on my desk the morning after Nagala mentioned your name.”
It was indeed disconcerting and he struggled with it for a moment, angry at the invasion, before sighing in resignation. “I suppose I should have figured out you’d do something like that. For a secret facility, your security did seem a bit lax.”
“Our security is the best in the worlds,” she corrected. Then she changed the topic of conversation. “How was the reading?”
He bit back a groan. “Enlightening. I didn’t nearly make it through all the boxes. I did see the point you were trying to make though, I got a good feel for this place and the work you do.”
“Oh, you mean our vigilante work?” she teased.
Bill smiled at her. “An overzealous description of what you do.” Then he turned serious. “I still don’t agree with a lot of what goes on here. You break the law, you take it into your own hands.” He paused for a moment and then met her eyes. “I flicked through a few of the black files.”
“You should know that I wouldn’t just show those to anybody. But I had them put in so that you could see the full scale of our work and … I’m trying to be open with you, as difficult as that is for me after so many years of all this secrecy. We’re going to need to work as a team, you and I, if I should offer the job and you should take it.”
Then she explained the black files. “Those are last resort scenarios, only ordered when we have exhausted all other options and lives are at stake.” She didn’t back down from his penetrating stare. “I don’t order assassinations lightly, Mister Adama. I wrestle long and hard with decisions like that.”
Slowly, he nodded. “It mustn’t be easy.”
“No.”
He sighed and sipped at his coffee. “I do agree with the ultimate goal of your work, though. You do it for the Colonies, for the people. I get that. It’s why I joined the Fleet. But having no one to answer to …”
She told him how she saw it, “It’s really not any different to the Fleet, or the civilian government. The road has to end somewhere. In the Fleet, it’s with the Commanding Admiral. In the government, the President. Here, it stops with me. What’s the difference?”
“The difference is the Admiralty, and the Quorum of Twelve. Lower levels that have the power to overrule the senior official,” Bill stated.
Roslin smiled again. “I’m not a dictator, you know. Everyone who works for me is welcome to have their say, to express concerns over my decisions, to outright disagree with them if they do. And I listen to each and every one of them and see if there isn’t some way for us to find the middle ground.
“You think the group of idealistic, righteous men and women that work under me wouldn’t willingly rise up against me if I were out of line?” she asked, laughing. “They’d take me down to one of my own cells in a heartbeat. That’s why they’re chosen. They both believe in the greater good, and will do anything in its name. There’s no blind loyalty to a leader in these halls simply because they’re the leader. I’ve earned their trust and our loyalty is to all of the Colonies and all of its citizens.”
No wonder she’d convinced Lee to throw away his commission. The woman could be damn persuasive. He nodded. “I see your point. And I’m pleased with it.”
“You’re going to accept the job,” she stated, grinning.
His eyebrows lifted. “Are you offering it?”
She stared at him for a long while and only his many years as an officer stopped him from fidgeting under her gaze. Finally she nodded. “I know you’re qualified. And I know your values are true. Yes. I’m making the offer. And you’re going to take it.”
“How do you know that? I don’t even know that yet.”
Shaking her head, she claimed, “I know what kind of man you are, Bill Adama. You’re liking what you’re seeing and you want to be a part of it.”
“And what kind of woman are you, Laura Roslin? You know everything there is to know about me, but I don’t know a thing about you.”
Roslin shrugged. “There isn’t much to know, to be honest. Born and raised right here in Caprica City. My parents were both public school teachers. I had two sisters. They’re all gone now.”
“I’m sorry.”
She waved it off. “Long time ago. I joined up with the Agency when I was in university. Turns out my philosophy professor moonlighted as a recruiter. I was tagged, chosen, and intrigued I signed on. Been here ever since. That’s pretty much it, really.” Then she shook her head. “But you’ll get the chance to learn more, if you’re still curious. We’ll be working closely, you’ll figure me out eventually.”
He filed it all away, thought for a moment, then decided he needed to get away for a bit. He’d learned so much and though he still had more questions than answers, now wasn’t the time to ask. He needed to think, needed to decide to do this, figure out whether he even wanted to.
Overwhelmed, Bill rose to his feet. “I’ve had a very … informative day. I … I need time to process everything. If you’ll excuse me, Director, I’d like to go back to my apartment.”
She rose as well. “I suppose this is a lot to take in in one day. The Agency, everything we’ve done, Lee, the job offer. You’ve earned your rest, Mister Adama. I’ll call someone to have you escorted out.”
Once she’d done that, she returned to him and walked him to the door. “I’ll be in touch. There’s no need for you to call again. I’ll give you a few days to process, as you called it, and then I’ll send for you. If it hasn’t been enough time, just tell the messenger so and I’ll give you a few more days. But don’t leave it for too long, Mister Adama, there’s work to be done.”
An agent was approaching to lead him out, so Bill turned to her and held out his hand. “I won’t say it’s been a pleasure, Madame Director, but it has certainly been interesting.”
She shook his hand with a warm smile. “It always is around here. I look forward to working with you.”
Starting to walk away, he threw over his shoulder, “I haven’t said yes yet.”
And he would have sworn on his mother’s grave that she got the last word in, stating undoubtedly, “You will.”
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Rating: M
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Author's Note: For summary, categories, disclaimer and warnings, see Chapter One. This chapter is only very short, but it's all Bill and Laura, so I hope that makes up for it.
Chapter Six: Not A Dictator
The lights in the galley dimming pulled Bill out of his thoughts. He looked around, saw no one and guessed they must be on a timer. It was getting late. Sighing, he stood.
The main office now only had one agent, sitting at his desk and tapping away at a computer. Billy’s work area was abandoned, but the door to Roslin’s office was open a crack.
He pushed it in further, calling as he did, “Director Roslin?”
“Come in, Mister Adama,” she returned and he entered fully to find her sitting behind her desk.
“Chief Borders isn’t here?”
“I sent him home early. You’d never be able to tell, but he’s in a frantic state of worry over Suzanne, his wife.”
She gestured to a seat in front of the desk and he sat down, watching her eyes flick across a report in front of her. She signed it, then added it to a stack at her elbow, dropping her pen and leaning back in her chair with a sigh.
“Long day?” he asked.
She gave him a tired smile. “They always are.”
“Do you get home much?”
Roslin laughed and told him, “This is my home. I’m sure you saw the quarters in John’s office. Mine are through there and I actually use them.” She pointed to the other door in the room.
A bit surprised, Bill questioned, “You live here?”
Her smile turned wry. “I know it’s sad.” Before he could claim that that wasn’t what he was trying to imply, she continued, “The Agency is my life, Mister Adama. I’ve given it my all for over twenty five years now.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it.”
She waved the apology off. “I know. But it is sad.”
Relaxing somewhat, he gave her a warm smile. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.” She nodded. “That was what it was like for me in the Fleet. It’s a solitary lifestyle when you’re in command, but … it’s worth it.”
“You must miss it a great deal. I can’t imagine ever leaving here. In fact I’m sure I’ll be here until the day I die, throwing demands around.” The oddest look came over her face at those words, but she shook it off quickly and stood, walking over to a refreshment stand by the couch setting.
“Billy made me a pot of coffee before he left, would you like a cup? He makes great coffee.”
“Please.” He got up and followed her over, sighing as he sat back in the comfortable couch.
She started pouring. “You take it black, no sugar, don’t you?”
Looking at her curiously, he responded, “Yes. How did you know that?”
Her smile was knowing, smug even. “You think you’d have been freely allowed to walk into this facility if I didn’t know everything there was to know about you? And I do mean everything: your personal life, classified information and missions, psych evaluations, bank statements, your preferred liquor brands, what genre of music you enjoy, and, rather importantly, I think, how you take your coffee.”
As she brought over the mug and joined him on the couch, her gaze turned sympathetic. “I know it’s disconcerting, your entire life being laid out for another person to see. It feels like an invasion of your privacy. I understand, I’ve been there. But I’m afraid it’s the way we operate around here before offering someone a job, letting them see and know about everything we do.”
“How do you find it all out?”
“Our resources and sources extend further than you can imagine,” she explained. “I can have a file made up on anyone in the Colonies within a few hours after I’ve put my people on it. I had yours waiting on my desk the morning after Nagala mentioned your name.”
It was indeed disconcerting and he struggled with it for a moment, angry at the invasion, before sighing in resignation. “I suppose I should have figured out you’d do something like that. For a secret facility, your security did seem a bit lax.”
“Our security is the best in the worlds,” she corrected. Then she changed the topic of conversation. “How was the reading?”
He bit back a groan. “Enlightening. I didn’t nearly make it through all the boxes. I did see the point you were trying to make though, I got a good feel for this place and the work you do.”
“Oh, you mean our vigilante work?” she teased.
Bill smiled at her. “An overzealous description of what you do.” Then he turned serious. “I still don’t agree with a lot of what goes on here. You break the law, you take it into your own hands.” He paused for a moment and then met her eyes. “I flicked through a few of the black files.”
“You should know that I wouldn’t just show those to anybody. But I had them put in so that you could see the full scale of our work and … I’m trying to be open with you, as difficult as that is for me after so many years of all this secrecy. We’re going to need to work as a team, you and I, if I should offer the job and you should take it.”
Then she explained the black files. “Those are last resort scenarios, only ordered when we have exhausted all other options and lives are at stake.” She didn’t back down from his penetrating stare. “I don’t order assassinations lightly, Mister Adama. I wrestle long and hard with decisions like that.”
Slowly, he nodded. “It mustn’t be easy.”
“No.”
He sighed and sipped at his coffee. “I do agree with the ultimate goal of your work, though. You do it for the Colonies, for the people. I get that. It’s why I joined the Fleet. But having no one to answer to …”
She told him how she saw it, “It’s really not any different to the Fleet, or the civilian government. The road has to end somewhere. In the Fleet, it’s with the Commanding Admiral. In the government, the President. Here, it stops with me. What’s the difference?”
“The difference is the Admiralty, and the Quorum of Twelve. Lower levels that have the power to overrule the senior official,” Bill stated.
Roslin smiled again. “I’m not a dictator, you know. Everyone who works for me is welcome to have their say, to express concerns over my decisions, to outright disagree with them if they do. And I listen to each and every one of them and see if there isn’t some way for us to find the middle ground.
“You think the group of idealistic, righteous men and women that work under me wouldn’t willingly rise up against me if I were out of line?” she asked, laughing. “They’d take me down to one of my own cells in a heartbeat. That’s why they’re chosen. They both believe in the greater good, and will do anything in its name. There’s no blind loyalty to a leader in these halls simply because they’re the leader. I’ve earned their trust and our loyalty is to all of the Colonies and all of its citizens.”
No wonder she’d convinced Lee to throw away his commission. The woman could be damn persuasive. He nodded. “I see your point. And I’m pleased with it.”
“You’re going to accept the job,” she stated, grinning.
His eyebrows lifted. “Are you offering it?”
She stared at him for a long while and only his many years as an officer stopped him from fidgeting under her gaze. Finally she nodded. “I know you’re qualified. And I know your values are true. Yes. I’m making the offer. And you’re going to take it.”
“How do you know that? I don’t even know that yet.”
Shaking her head, she claimed, “I know what kind of man you are, Bill Adama. You’re liking what you’re seeing and you want to be a part of it.”
“And what kind of woman are you, Laura Roslin? You know everything there is to know about me, but I don’t know a thing about you.”
Roslin shrugged. “There isn’t much to know, to be honest. Born and raised right here in Caprica City. My parents were both public school teachers. I had two sisters. They’re all gone now.”
“I’m sorry.”
She waved it off. “Long time ago. I joined up with the Agency when I was in university. Turns out my philosophy professor moonlighted as a recruiter. I was tagged, chosen, and intrigued I signed on. Been here ever since. That’s pretty much it, really.” Then she shook her head. “But you’ll get the chance to learn more, if you’re still curious. We’ll be working closely, you’ll figure me out eventually.”
He filed it all away, thought for a moment, then decided he needed to get away for a bit. He’d learned so much and though he still had more questions than answers, now wasn’t the time to ask. He needed to think, needed to decide to do this, figure out whether he even wanted to.
Overwhelmed, Bill rose to his feet. “I’ve had a very … informative day. I … I need time to process everything. If you’ll excuse me, Director, I’d like to go back to my apartment.”
She rose as well. “I suppose this is a lot to take in in one day. The Agency, everything we’ve done, Lee, the job offer. You’ve earned your rest, Mister Adama. I’ll call someone to have you escorted out.”
Once she’d done that, she returned to him and walked him to the door. “I’ll be in touch. There’s no need for you to call again. I’ll give you a few days to process, as you called it, and then I’ll send for you. If it hasn’t been enough time, just tell the messenger so and I’ll give you a few more days. But don’t leave it for too long, Mister Adama, there’s work to be done.”
An agent was approaching to lead him out, so Bill turned to her and held out his hand. “I won’t say it’s been a pleasure, Madame Director, but it has certainly been interesting.”
She shook his hand with a warm smile. “It always is around here. I look forward to working with you.”
Starting to walk away, he threw over his shoulder, “I haven’t said yes yet.”
And he would have sworn on his mother’s grave that she got the last word in, stating undoubtedly, “You will.”
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