DISCLAIMER: Battlestar Galactica is the property of Glen A. Larson, Sci-Fi Channel, R & D TV, Sky and NBC Universal.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Objectivity
By Halfofone
President Roslin's hair is tickling my nose. I brush it away and shift Laura's sprawling body to accommodate a more comfortable position. We always finish the night like this, Laura's head resting on my shoulder, one leg wrapped around mine, and a free hand resting on a breast or clasping my arm. When it becomes painful or Laura looks uncomfortable, I shift my human lover to rest on the other side of my body. She does not usually wake when I perform this manoeuvre. The awkwardness of the arrangement is unimportant. I rarely sleep. I don't need much and I don't like dreaming but I do need to hold Laura while she sleeps.
I once asked Sharon Valeri about her human lover. She said that she still dreamed of him and sometimes in those dreams they were back together in the colonies, with children and a house. She looked at me sadly before telling me that her fantasy made her ashamed but she wasn't sure whether she was ashamed of being a cylon or ashamed of still loving Galen Tyrol.
I had never been in love before Laura despite spending many years in the company of humans. It never occurred to me that I should be. None of my model had shown any capacity for love, which is not surprising as we are an earlier specification and the design parameters were more limited in emotional range. One consequence of this was that I made an excellent reporter, since being able to stand aside from what I am witnessing comes naturally; no-one has ever questioned my impartiality or objectivity. If you needed a reporter to visit a war-zone or a natural disaster and report without blubbing or panicking then D'Anna Biers was your woman. Or your cylon. Amongst advanced cylons, or skin-jobs as the humans delightfully refer to us, we are the rational voice not swayed by excessive religious zeal, visionary prophecies, emotional involvement, enjoyment of cruelty, excessive empathy or some of the other unpredictable characteristics owned by my fellows.
The question that troubles me is not why I love her but how. How can I, a machine whose ordained philosophical and psychological parameters do not include love for individuals, love anyone let alone Laura Roslin the sometime and now re-appointed president of the twelve colonies. A woman who incidentally has symbolised the resurgence of humanity and the near defeat of the cylon nation. It is an unnerving mystery.
I tried to explain this to Laura and she disarmed me as she always can. 'You believe in a loving and benevolent God' she argued, conveniently forgetting that she does not. 'Would such a God exclude you from experiencing love? Surely accepting your apparent capacity to love in defiance of your original programming is an act of faith. Accept your God's gift D'Anna.'
It's a seductive argument but it does not really work for me. I believe in God without question or once I did - before I began to dream I was not a doubter. Some cylon models now allow for doubt since it was held that without doubt there could be no faith, and so the capacity was incorporated in some of the later models but as I said, we were an early model from a less evolved, simpler design; doubting our God was not considered desirable at that point in cylon development nor was dreaming and yet now I am prone to both these very human attributes. However on most days I do believe in God. The true flaw in Laura's argument is that my God is not a loving god but a god of wrath and justice: a god not concerned with the emotional needs of his followers. My God demands devotion, worship and obedience without question. It bothers me that my love for Laura may be disobedience to God. I love her anyway. So now I dream, doubt and disobey. My religious life has taken a downward turn.
On the other hand, I have no doubts that what I feel for Laura is love. We have developed some very useful diagnostic programs in recent years for determining the correct description of our emotional responses and I have run my responses through those diagnostics several times; the results are unequivocal. I am in love. Just another cylon in love with a human.
It does concern me that so many advanced cylons have fallen under the spell of humans in our brief time together - we seem vulnerable to them in ways that were never anticipated and they are changing us perhaps faster than we should. A mundane explanation offered by some other cylons to explain the apparent and growing variation between cylons of the same model is the number of times that an individual has been resurrected. I am not sure that this is true - it seems to me that it is proximity to humans whether before or after resurrection that causes the greatest change. Is there something remaining within our programming that responds to them in the same way that dogs respond to owners or does their attention flatter us like children who receive praise from their parents?
I do not consider myself inferior to humans - if asked I would certainly reply that we cylons are the ordained successors to the human race. I hold no feelings for humans in general and in the past it would have been a lie if I'd said that I regretted the destruction of the twelve colonies; it was their just punishment for sin and ignorance of the one true God and their on-going threat to our race. I actually liked some of the humans I met in my years in the colonies, even frakked some of them, but I didn't grieve for them when the end came. It was an article of faith for me that the cylons are the children of humanity and are destined to replace our flawed progenitors, but I am not unrealistic about the differences between cylons and humans. Millions of years of evolution have developed a range of emotional response and complexity in humans that cylons are attempting to reproduce and better within 100 years. We will succeed with God's help but we are a work in progress with some way to go.
En masse humans are easy to despise and on an individual basis most humans seem to be such insignificant creatures yet Laura Roslin has never been found to be insignificant by me or any other cylon. Leoben fears her. He says she has the gift of sight and an ability for abstraction and for playing games that would make her an excellent cylon or an outstanding politician which she is. No-one defeats Laura in a game of poker if she decides to win, and if she decides not to win, then only a fool believes that his victory was not a deliberate part of her plan.
I have to ask myself if I am part of her plan. Objectively I believe that she saw an opportunity in me, in my interest in her. The first few meetings of the ceasefire negotiations had been completely unproductive - I was leading the Cylon team - neither side was prepared to cede any ground and the distrust was so intense that you could feel it hanging over the negotiators like the pall of smoke from a burning city. Cylons and humans hated each other and the dead of both races took up most of the negotiating space between us. On the third day Laura invited me to go with her back to Colonial One. She clasped my hand and then leaned into me, whispering, 'you and I have to be seen to be prepared to make this work or we might as well end this farce now.'
I was afraid to go with her that day. One of the human pre-conditions of the negotiation was that no resurrection ships should be within range so we were all mortal. If she decided to kill me then that would be the end - no waking up in a warm fluid cocoon, gasping in the remembered pain of death at the moment of birth into a fresh, soft body, unhardened by exposure to daily existence.
Laura saw my fear and her grip on my hand tightened. 'What do you like a drink?' When I hesitated to answer, she smiled very slowly. 'I promise not to poison it...this time.'
The other humans in the room were suppressing sniggers and even a few of my fellow cylons had begun to smile. Apart from hatred it was the first shared emotion of the negotiations - I cannot say that I was especially pleased to be the butt of the ice-breaking joke.
I smiled coolly in return saying 'Whisky. And I promise not to crush your skull with my hands...this time.'
Laura's smile didn't fade, it just eased. She nodded her understanding and I tried not to let my fear re-emerge though it was there - Leoben's warning rang in my ears - Laura Roslin could make you feel like she had seen into your soul and then order your death without any change in her demeanour.
On the way to her ship, Laura engaged me in discussion but she did not talk to me about the war between our peoples, instead she talked of the never-ending dispute between the people of Virgon and Picon. In my stint as D'Anna Biers, I had reported on the planetary incursions and counter-incursions for several months as a member of the Colonial News service. Laura remembered me from that time as well as from the more recent encounter on Galactica. It made me suspicious as I didn't know how she knew that I had been D'Anna Biers. I had only ever used my model number at the negotiating table but Laura had known, and had launched into her description of how the old mistrust had persisted in the fleeing colonial fleet to the extent that Picon and Virgon ships had to be kept apart.
Eventually, unable to hold back my curiosity, I asked how she knew me.
'I guessed. For a cylon, you seemed oddly interested in over-hearing some gossip about the Pyramid league that two of the colonial guards were having on the first day.'
For a moment I gaped at her. She smiled again.
'I remembered that when I met D'Anna Biers on Galactica she said she was a big fan.'
It was true and I could feel myself blushing. I folded my arms: to my astonishment Laura placed a warm hand on my arm and leaned close. I found her constant touching very unsettling.
'I didn't mean to embarrass you.'
That she could embarrass me was in itself hard to take. The conversation was more restricted after that until we reached her private quarters on Colonial One.
The official residence had changed considerably since the days of Baltar's presidency. The haze of sleaze that Baltar dragged with him had gone replaced by warmth and comfort in the classical Caprican style. The rooms now felt clean and gracious. Laura motioned at me to sit while she poured our drinks. She also instructed the guards to leave which they did reluctantly, exchanging looks as if to say whom do we disobey, our commander or the president? Laura waited for them to close the door then turned to me and handed me my drink.
'So...Three...how are you and I going to move these talks along?'
'I am not authorised to make any decision without...'
'I understand that. However we need a result from these talks and I think that it will be up to you and I to create the necessary environment.'
'Do you have a proposal to create this environment?'
'I was hoping that you might be able to suggest something since you are familiar with both cultures.'
Her choice of language was very careful I reminded myself. She is trying to get under my guard by suggesting a parity that I know she doesn't believe in: Laura Roslin has been emphatic and consistent that cylon's are machines and that we do not have any of the rights she would accord a human foe. As if she read my mind she said, 'I too, will have to surrender my prejudices and treat you as equals with rights - something I have not done in the past.'
SHe certainly had not treated cylon prisoners as equals or even as well as she would have treated any animal. Considering her past actions gave me an idea.
'Perhaps we could start there - we could negotiate a protocol for the treatment of prisoners. It would be a small beginning but symbolic.'
Laura considered my suggestion for a long minute and then she nodded.
'That would be a start.'
For the remainder of our meeting we discussed how to introduce the idea of negotiating a protocol and how best to manage the teams of negotiators. It was Laura's idea that we each choose a liaison officer to work with the opposing team of negotiators. She chose her aide, Tory Foster, and I selected a five whom I knew was not prone to the violent outbursts of his fellows and who had a basic working knowledge of the colonial political system from a few months spent on Geminon. Two hours later and I caught Laura staring at the clock. She looked very tired.
'You are tired. We can continue this tomorrow,' I said, trying to be considerate.
'Thank you,' Laura replied. She sounded surprised and I guessed that it had never occurred to her that a cylon might heed her exhaustion.
'Could you arrange for me to be escorted back to the transport? I don't want to encounter any disaffected colonialists looking for revenge.'
'Of course.'
'And Madame President, tomorrow I suggest that you and I meet on my base-star as a gesture of faith.'
I had definitely caught Laura napping with that one. She looked startled and it was my turn to grin.
'There's no need to be afraid Laura.'
'I shall look forward to it,' she said smoothly having recovered her innate poise, her features arranged in her most polite and bland expression making her again impossible to read.
The following day saw our negotiating teams move forward even if only at a very modest pace. At the end of the day, a very basic protocol for the treatment of prisoners was agreed. It came into force immediately much to the benefit of the few dozen prisoners held by either side. When the talks finished for the day, Tory Foster and President Roslin accompanied the cylon team back to our base-star.
I gave the two humans a short tour of the base-star. The organic nature of the ship astounded them and I could see that both women were appalled when they saw the hybrid at the heart of the ship.
'Is she in pain?' Tory asked, transfixed by the sight of the beautiful humanoid held rigid in the cradle of conduits, chanting poetic nonsense as she feels and commands the huge vessel.
'I don't know.'
'Is she conscious of you?' asked Laura who appeared barely less awestruck than her assistant.
'Not standing here. She feels our instructions when we touch the control interface.'
Laura and her aide didn't seem to be able to look away from the ostensibly suffering hybrid. I lost a little patience. 'She is no different from the organic component of any other cylon vessel despite her humanoid appearance and I doubt you feel sentimental about them.'
'Then why make her look human?' asked Laura with a thread of steel in her tone.
To this I gave no answer. I knew the reasons for the hybrid's design but I didn't feel ready to share them with humans. The decision lies at the heart of cylon beliefs.
Later, alone in my room, Laura was very quiet.
Tory Foster had gone with the cylon negotiating team to debrief about the day's events - she was a good choice as liaison: intelligent, stoical and unafraid. I hoped my own choice was functioning as well. After five minutes in my room Laura was still silent. She was apparently occupied looking round my accommodation; since that consists of a bed, chairs and little else I was not sure what required such intense study though she did seem fascinated by the blood pulsing along the wall conduits.
'Are you okay?'
'A little overwhelmed,' she answered while trying to smile. 'I never really expected to see the inside of one of these except as a prisoner.'
'And what do you think?'
'It is very alien and very beautiful.' She looked at me oddly, 'it's truly alive and I find that both amazing and awful.'
'Surely you already knew that cylon ships are conscious. You've captured raiders in the past. Disembowelled them I believe.' I could not hide my shudder at the thought. Laura took my hand again. She looked very serious.
'Three,' she said quietly, 'I didn't recognise that you were conscious let alone your ships.'
I pulled my hand away, irrationally irritated by her ready acceptance of the base-star's existence as a living entity when the deaths of so many other cylons had left her unmoved.
'Simply because you have witnessed what you believe to be pain and suffering, you then accept that as evidence of life. You seek to empathise with the hybrid but you have no concept of her existence.'
'She is alive and suffering,' Laura said shortly. 'And I think you know it. My guess is that she's an advanced cylon like yourself that you have enslaved to run your ships.'
I was angry at her words, at her arrogance in presuming to understand us and to label us like humans.
'We do not enslave cylons, advanced or otherwise.'
'Have you ever read that old fairy story about the farm animals who rebelled against their farmer and take over the farm? At first the farm is a democracy and each animal is as important as any other but not all the animals are the same. Eventually some of the cleverer animals begin to take charge and make decisions. Soon the clever animals have taken the rights of their less able brethren and as time passes the farm reverts to the old ways. The clever animals become more and more like the human farmer...'
'I understand the analogy you're making. There is no need to continue - it is not applicable.'
'Really?'
'I am a cylon, the centurions are cylons, this ship is a cylon. We share programming, organic construction and inorganic components. And more importantly we share beliefs.'
'I share 70% of my DNA with dogs and the belief that food is good. That does not mean I regard dogs as part human or as my equal.'
'Then that is where we differ. The death of a raider is as important to me as the death of one of my fellow three's. We are all cylons, equal before God.'
'Ah. I had forgotten about your god.'
'We never forget about God,' I said stiffly. Laura's lips twitched which made me angry again - she could laugh at me but not at my God. 'It's late. You should return to your fleet.' Laura shook her head.
'You haven't offered me a drink, and the Gods know I need one, and we haven't agreed the agenda for tomorrow,' she objected. 'I didn't mean to offend you Three. It was presumptuous of me to make any comment about your society since I know so little of it but that is one of the things I hope to change in the next few weeks - if you'll agree to continue these planning sessions.'
For some reason I agreed that she should stay. Her apology seemed genuine but beyond that I found myself unwilling to end the meeting. I should have recognised the signs then but I had no personal experience of attraction or what it does to your judgement. The rest of our meeting was uneventful until it was time for Laura to leave. I watched her gather up her notes, talking all the while; she was warm and funny and gracious. I felt my chest constrict oddly when ready at last, she shook my hand and smiled up at me.
'That, I think, was time well spent. Same time tomorrow, my place?'
I nodded as I looked into her eyes, suddenly finding speech hard. She held onto my hand and her expression turned to one of interrogation, obviously somewhat puzzled by my silence. I dropped my gaze from hers and pulled my hand away.
'Centurion,' I said loudly. A centurion who had been standing outside, clanked into view and stopped. 'Escort President Roslin to the transport.'
The centurion turned to face the exit and waited. I wouldn't look at Laura and after a moment, she walked towards the exit. The centurion followed her out. Outside the door I distinctly heard her ask the centurion, 'Is she always moody?' The centurion stopped walking - probably unsure how to communicate its response to a human. After a moment Laura must have realised this as she said, 'Never mind centurion, lead the way.' The heavy step of the centurion resumed and gradually faded with distance.
I sat on the bed for two hours trying to understand what I was feeling. Exasperated I gave up and was grateful when Tory Foster brought me her report on the debriefing session. It was extremely thorough and objective. When I said as much she acknowledged my praise without fuss and added, 'President Roslin asked me to provide as much assistance to you as require. I'm staying here tonight so if you need anything else just let me know.'
'Is your accommodation adequate?'
'It's more than adequate and I get my own room. I might end up coming over here to get some peace.'
I began to laugh before realising that she was not joking. I stifled my laugh into a yawn. 'I guess that is okay. I shouldn't need anything else tonight Ms Foster - we should all get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. Big agenda.'
'Good. I'll look forward to it. Good night Ma'am.' She departed as smoothly as she had arrived, leaving me blinking at the unexpected concept of working with a willing human who seemed to respect me.
And so the negotiations proceeded for several weeks. Laura and I alternated our evening meetings between Colonial One and the Base-Star. As each day proceeded I became aware that I was developing an unusual attachment to the president. I looked forward to our evening sessions with increasing pleasure. If for any reason we could not meet I was irritable and difficult: Tory began arranging conference calls late at night and the sound of Laura's voice would immediately lift my mood. The private meetings and conversations defined my day as we reasoned out our tactics for the forthcoming sessions; argued about basic principles; fought over our contrasting philosophies and religious beliefs; we sometimes discussed colonial literature and art about which I knew more than Laura imagined; even sport made the occasional appearance though in this area I really did know more than Laura and had a great deal more interest. As I rather tentatively pointed out, as a spy I had to be able to blend in and I needed to be familiar with the culture. In fact I had discovered a genuine interest in the arts particularly in literature. Then one night she asked me if I regretted the destruction of that culture. My honest answer was no. Laura ended our meeting early that night, saying she was tired. As I lay in bed afterwards I realised that I was terrified that Laura might not agree to see me again.
The following morning Tory arrived early, notebook in hand, accompanied by a centurion that she was briefing on security arrangements for the day. I must have looked as amazed by the sight as I felt so she explained.
'I have been in touch with my counterpart on Galactica and we have agreed that somewhat less visible security and tighter actual security around the negotiation platform would be beneficial to the talks. I don't think the negotiators need to be protected from each other any more.' Tory allowed herself a wry smile. I could only agree while quietly wondering if we couldn't develop a Tory Foster model of cylon. I didn't say this as I suspected the humour would be unappreciated.
A good night's dreamless rest might have restored my equilibrium to something like normal but my rest had been anything but dreamless or restful. I was horribly aware of my pulse accelerating rapidly as our transport approached the negotiation platform. When I finally laid eyes on Laura, I was worried that other people would hear my heart beating; my mouth had gone so dry that my first words sounded like a death rattle. Both humans and cylons stared at me. I caught Tory assessing me with professional detachment such that I felt like a bug under an insect collector's microscope. She would guess, I panicked. 'Guess what? You don't know yourself. Perhaps you should ask her' said a mocking voice in my head, at least I hoped it was in my head and that I hadn't spoken aloud.
Laura saved me.
'Shall we begin?' she asked in a tone of command that allowed no disagreement. Everyone shuffled to their places at the table. I pulled the shattered remnants of my psyche together and gratefully sagged towards the nearest chair. A hand grabbed my arm before I could actually sit down.
'You're chairing today,' whispered a calm voice in my ear and Tory prodded me quietly in the direction of the head of the table. I glanced at her gratefully. She appeared unmoved that her temporary boss was apparently having some kind of nervous breakdown. Maybe she was used to it. Maybe Laura got like this sometimes. That thought cheered me up and I sounded more like myself when I opened the meeting despite knowing that Laura was seated to my right, so close that I could feel the warmth from her leg under the table.
The talks were less productive that day and at one point some of the human delegates had become very aggressive and my team responded in kind. The situation was worsening with every word yet I could not seem to get a hold on the meeting. I heard Laura whisper under her breath 'perhaps I should ask Tory to wheel her centurion squad back in here and create some order.' I looked at the President in shock and she winked at me mischievously. My torpor evaporated. I took back control of the meeting after that and although we made slow progress on some issues there were a few points of agreement.
After the meeting most of the delegates disappeared quickly to have a break before their debriefing sessions. Laura was standing at the door talking with her temporary aide whom she seemed to be calling Marcus now. She was giving him detailed instructions on the debriefing and he was nodding and asking questions. When I approached she patted him on the back and said 'you'll be fine Marcus and I'll see you later for your report.'
He trotted off apparently quite happy.
I raised an eyebrow.
'Marcus?'
'It feels odd calling someone Five' she confessed. 'So I asked him to choose a name and that's what he came up with.'
'Do you mind calling me Three?'
'You're not working for me,' she answered evasively.
'You can call me D'Anna in private, if you prefer. In public I would rather stick with Three.'
A slow smile spread gradually until it reached her eyes. 'Okay', she breathed in her warm voice. My insides quivered and I could have sworn that my organs and muscles were liquifying inside me. Heat roared in my veins.
'Are you returning to the base-star tonight after your meeting?' queried a now familiar calm voice behind me, dragging me back from the shaking abyss I felt myself teetering over.
'Of course,' I whispered hoarsely. Tory handed me my papers for the evening, ordered and marked for my attention.
'I will have the debriefing report ready for your return,' she said. She looked at me carefully, assessing me. 'Can I have a quick word Ma'am before you go.'
Tory drew me off to one side.
'Are you aware that you are telegraphing your feelings?' she asked in a very low voice.
'What!' I half-yelped, swivelling my eyes to see if Laura had heard anything. She caught my eye.
'Are you coming Three,' she asked, 'or should I go ahead without you?'
'I'll be along in a minute,' I called out in what I hoped was a casual voice.
'Okay,' she smiled for me. My heart stuttered in my chest. I was both grateful and devastated as she left the room. My wild-eyed gaze lurched back to Tory who continued.
'Ma'am, every time you so much as glance her way, everyone with even half a brain can see what you are feeling. Fortunately most of the delegates do not seem endowed with as much as half a brain. Nonetheless, people will realise eventually.'
I stared at the human desperately. 'This may seem like a really stupid question Tory but what am I feeling. I don't understand myself. I have no idea why I feel like this.'
Tory sighed. 'It would appear Ma'am that you are suffering from quite a crush on the President of the Colonies.'
I opened my mouth to deny it but nothing came out because it suddenly all made a horrible sense. I had spent enough time in the company of humans to recognise the symptoms. I just never expected to experience it myself. Tory waited patiently while I gasped like a fish on dry land. I forced out a strangled whisper.
'W..Will it go away?'
To her credit Tory kept a completely straight face. 'Maybe.'
Another awful thought occurred to me. 'Do you think she's noticed?'
Tory's mask slipped slightly. 'Ma'am, do you think that President Roslin has half a brain or the full quota?'
'Oh frak! What the frak do I do now?'
'There are three possible, socially acceptable, strategies in this type of situation. Firstly, tell her how you feel and take it from there; secondly, say nothing but try and woo her into reciprocal feelings; thirdly, say nothing and wait for the feelings to disappear.'
'The third one then,' I uttered determinedly.
'Why would you choose the third one?' asked Tory as though dealing with a rather dim intern.
'Because I can't have these sorts...of...feelings for the President of the Colonies. You can see that. I'm fairly sure you'd have no difficulty understanding if this was the other way round.'
'I don't disagree but my advice Ma'am is to go for the first option. Tell her the truth and explain that you cannot engage in any relationship despite your feelings. Ask for her help. If you are capable of making a truce between humans and cylons then I am sure that between you it is possible to work out a way to be around each other that is not embarrassing for either party.'
'That's...good advice. Thank you Tory. When should I tell her?'
'I think this evening would be wise.'
'Can you do it?' I begged ruefully. Tory smiled at me and shook her head.
'I am due back on the base-star for the debriefing session.'
I looked at her admiringly. 'You say that as though you have been visiting base-stars all your life.'
'I practice in the mirror,' Tory replied poker-faced.
Ten minutes later I was seated next to the President on the transport returning to the Colonial fleet. My pounding pulse and sweating hands didn't suggest that I was any nearer a recovery from my affliction.
Several of the human delegates were staring at me I thought. I had grown accustomed to the hate in human eyes and it truthfully didn't bother me. I imagined the same expression on Laura's face and a jagged pain pierced my soul. I cared what she thought of me. That realisation was a much bigger shock than discovering that I lusted after her. The latter was a physical, hormonal function that was within my programming but desiring the good opinion of a human was completely antithetical to everything I believed. At that moment I realised that something had changed within me. Calling it the will of God or a side-effect of resurrection did not help. I had to get over this. Laura noticed my sideways look at her and frowned. I must have looked as strange as I felt.
'You seemed off today. Is there anything wrong?'
'Nothing,'I lied. There was nothing to be gained by having what would likely be the most humiliating conversation of my life in public. As the transport neared the dock on Colonial One my breathing ratcheted up until I felt as though I had run twenty miles.
'Are you sure you are well?' Laura whispered in my ear and placed her hand on the small of my back. The feel of her breath on my neck and her touch on my body were the last things I needed and the only things I wanted. I gritted my teeth and slowly eased myself out of her reach. There was some relief when we were finally alone in her office aboard Colonial One. At least I could stop trying to hide my confusion from her. Tory had been right it was important that Laura understand what I was enduring. All this dissembling was extremely stressful.
'I need to say this quickly,' I said mustering my brain cells. 'It seems that I have developed an untimely crush on you. As I'm sure you understand, this would not be acceptable to either of our peoples nor to ourselves. I don't know how long these things last but I'll just have to wait it out. I thought it was only right that you should know so we can avoid any embarrassing situations and perhaps you can help me by not coming too close or smiling at me or touching me or talking about non-treaty related matters or offering me drinks or feeding me exotic food. I suppose we should stop these evening meetings or at least have other people around so I can't...sit and stare at you.'
As I was speaking Laura had sat down in her presidential chair. When I finally ground to a halt and dared to look at her directly she was staring at me, apparently rendered speechless and for one horrible moment I wondered if this had all come as a complete surprise to her and she was going to laugh at me. She didn't laugh.
'Thank you for your honesty. Do you want to be replaced?' was all she said. There was no touch of humour or warmth in her eyes just like in my daydream and I found that I could not bear it. In less than a second I was on my knees before her, holding each of her hands in mine.
'Don't hate me Laura.'
For a microscopic moment I thought her hands tightened on mine. Then she pushed me away.
'D'Anna sit over there. We need to think clearly.'
I flopped down in the chair she indicated and a dull aching misery encompassed me as Laura decided my fate. For the first time in my life I felt lost and without direction. If this was love then humans could keep it.
'I'm going to ask you again. Do you want to be replaced by another negotiator?'
I considered the question as carefully as I could manage. What should have been a simple yes or no was clouded by fear and longing. I looked at her again. I would speak the truth - I had promised myself that.
'I should probably be replaced but if you're asking me if I want to go then I cannot say yes. I would never see you again.'
Laura raised her eyebrows slightly as though taken aback by my answer. She was still serious but the warmth had returned to her eyes.
'D'Anna, this is not a simple matter. You should probably be replaced and so should I yet we have made some solid progress which might not have happened if there had not been some rapport between us. New chief negotiators would take the negotiations back almost to the beginning. On the other hand if our feelings for each other ever became public knowledge the validity of the treaty would risk being undermined.'
My head jerked up. The only words I heard were 'our feelings for each other'. Laura was talking as though she cared for me.
She smiled warmly at me. 'Close your mouth D'Anna. You look half-witted.'
'But you said...'
'I know what I said but we will have to wait until the negotiations are complete. For the next few weeks our behaviour must be exemplary; no-one should be able to call our objectivity into question.' She raised her eyebrows in an mixed expression of regret and what I later came to recognise as affection: 'Which means dearest that you cannot look at me as though I hung the stars much though I enjoy it. And unfortunately, as you said, we will have to have company at all times especially at these evening meetings.'
'You knew all along what was happening to me.'
'Happening to us D'Anna. It was never one-sided - I thought that was obvious even to a cylon.'
'Not this cylon. I didn't know. You must think I'm a fool.'
'Actually I think you're quite intelligent,' she said gently mocking my insecurity. 'And I'm very grateful for your courage. Under the circumstances I don't think I would have ever had the nerve to say anything. I'd pretty much decided just to tough it out.'
'I...What happens now?'
Laura looked at me and put her head on one side. A slow grin spread over her face.
'Well now, since this is the last time we will be alone for several weeks I suggest we make good use of our time.' When I hesitated, unsure what she meant, Laura sighed.
'Come here and kiss me. Or perhaps you're not interested in a physical relationship. That would be a pity since I want you more than I have ever wanted anybody...but if you're not...'
Her teasing only stopped when I finally managed to get my legs working and reached her side to take her in my arms. Her smile turned fierce as she wrapped her arms around my neck and I felt myself grow wet when I realised that it was lust for me that dilated her pupils so that the only colour visible in her eyes was a narrow ring of grey. My eyes closed as her body pressed hard against mine, lifting slightly as her arms tightened round me, pulling my head down; she pressed her lips insistently against mine until my lips parted and her tongue slid inside, tasting me, teasing me. 'This is how I'll kiss your pussy D'Anna,' she growled in a low feral voice that only incidentally resembled that of the self-possessed politician. 'I'll make you beg me to frak you.' Overwhelmed, I swayed and she pulled away a little. 'Breathe baby,' she warned. 'No time to faint yet. We need to lie down someplace first.'
I moaned into her mouth as she kissed me again and pushed me against the edge of the desk. I heard the sound of objects falling on the ground and realised that she was sweeping aside obstructions. This was really going to happen. Laura Roslin was going to frak me on her desk. Her fingers were working on the fastening of my tunic and my slacks and in few frantic seconds I lost most of my clothing and Laura pushed me back on the desk, cool leather against my heated skin. Her breathing hitched as she finally released my breasts. 'So beautiful...' she whispered and her mouth closed over a painfully swollen nipple. I nearly screamed as she sucked and kissed and licked. My body arched helplessly into hers. After a few minutes or a few seconds she moved her mouth to my other breast and repeated the pattern only this time her left hand tormented the abandoned breast. I was writhing in my need, desperate for her touch. When I grasped her hand and tried to push it down, she slapped it away and pushed herself up on her arms, swaying above me. 'Don't try and rush me baby or I promise you I will stop.' Her voice was severe like a schoolteacher. I dropped my hands back to my sides and gazed up at her in mute apology. My obedience met with her approval and she smiled very slowly before returning to my rock-hard nipples, alternately biting and licking, then swapping to the other breast.
'Please,' I groaned after an eternity of this torture. My inner thigh muscles strained to create some relief for the exquisite ache between my legs.
'What do you want D'Anna?'
'Just frak me,' I whimpered.
'I will baby. In good time.' Her hands pushed my legs apart. 'Keep them that way,' she ordered. 'No cheating.' I grunted in frustration as the only relief I had was taken from me.
She was slowly moving down my body, licking and kissing along a devilishly indirect route. By the time she reached the triangle of reddish hair at the junction of my legs, I was practically chanting my need and desire.
'Tell me what you want baby.'
'Frak me, please just frak me, just there, please please frak me. Please. Just let me come.'
Her tongue dipped inside and my hips came off the desk as the tip of her tongue gently probed my slit. She wrapped her arms firmly around my hips holding them as I tried to push back and increase the pressure. Any hope of being allowed a quick release was quelled when she moved back to kiss and lick the insides of my thighs. 'Unnh! I grunted as a quick kiss drifted over my swollen clit. I redoubled my pleas until my lover finally showed mercy, taking my clit between her lips and sucking and licking until my climax ripped through me. I stifled a scream against my hand as my hips lifted off the desk with the force of the orgasm. Laura seemed to take this as a sign, as without warning she pushed three fingers hard into my soaking vagina and entered me. Five hard thrusts and I came again powerfully and the world turned black as I struggled to get air in my lungs. I recovered seconds later to find Laura gently kissing my face, still holding her fingers inside me until my breathing returned to something like normal, then gently withdrawing.
I stared into her grey eyes, soft and loving now, and leaned up to kiss her soft lips, tasting of myself. Keeping my face serious though my voice was still hoarse from panting I said 'I don't think you're supposed to try to kill the chief negotiator - I'm sure that's against the rules. And so much for secrecy - I won't be able to walk tomorrow. People will notice.'
'Yup. Not bad for an old lady,' she grinned at me, clearly very pleased with herself.
'A very over-dressed old lady' I complained. Laura is still fully dressed apart from her jacket, which in her case means over-dressed as she certainly believes in formal attire for all occasions.
'I judged that your need was greater,' she smirked.
'Well now that my needs have been met let's move onto you.'
I flipped her over using my greater strength and surprise. She looked up at me and I could see fear in her eyes. Her voice even shook as she demurred 'You don't need to frak me baby. I'm okay really.'
I could not disguise my hurt at her rejection. 'What's wrong? Are you disgusted by the big bad cylon or do you believe I will hurt you.'
Laura shook her head earnestly. 'D'Anna, that's not what I meant at all. I'm not afraid of you hurting me and I am certainly not disgusted by you, quite the reverse actually. I mean I am not a young woman and I can't boast a perfect body like yours any more.'
'You're afraid I won't like your body,' I said understanding at last but not believing what I was hearing. She nodded hesitantly and her attempt at a self-deprecating smile broke up leaving her open and vulnerable and so beautiful to me that my heart ached.
'I suppose it's just vanity on my part but you are so perfect it's hard not to feel inadequate.'
'You are beautiful Laura and believe me, cylons understand more than anyone that beauty is more than skin deep,' I reassured her but the doubt remained on my lover's face. It was time to show and not tell. I moved my shaking fingers to the fastening of her blouse. She panicked and grabbed at my hand. 'Shh, it's okay,' I whispered. Nonetheless I moved my hand away to stroke her face, tracing and smoothing lines of worry until she smiled. I touched her cheek. 'You have a dimple right there when you smile. I have wanted to kiss that dimple for so long but you have to smile or else it disappears.' Her smiled turned shy but she kept it as I leant down and gently kissed her. 'That's one fantasy fulfilled.' I felt a slight shudder and her lips parted. I bent again to kiss her mouth, teasing her with small kisses and licks. Her body shifted and I moved fully on top, supporting my weight on my arms as my kisses become firmer and harder and my tongue sought hers. Her legs had parted slightly and I quietly insinuated my leg between hers, distracting her with kisses and whispered words telling her that her eyes and mouth and the scent of her pale skin are wonderful to me. Her body jerked and she gasped, reacting to the gentle stimulation between her legs possibly before she even consciously realised it was happening. I returned to kiss again but this time my kisses were fiercer and I increased the pressure of my thigh until she whimpered and her legs parted further and pushed against me but as soon as I murmured in her ear 'I want to undress you,' I could feel her withdraw from me again. I nipped at her earlobe as a diversion and she jumped and then moaned as I soothed the slight pain with my tongue, licking and sucking the delicate lobe until she writhed under me. I guess that counted as a successful diversion.
'Let me see you Laura. You don't want to hurt my ego.' I let myself sound whiny. Laura giggled against my neck, though even her muffled voice was rough and shaky.
'Cylons don't have egos. You told me that.'
I lifted my head to grin at her: 'But I have a sensitive soul.' She stared at me, unsmiling, grey eyes wide and apprehensive, trying to decide if she could trust me. She started biting her lip nervously. I dropped a kiss on her nose as I shifted my weight to rest on one arm and returned my seeking fingers to the buttons of her blouse and slowly began to unfasten them. This time she let me. I didn't uncover her until I had finished with the buttons and even then I took the time to kiss her again finally tracing my tongue down her jaw and then pushing her blouse aside to allow access to her elegant neck. Her breath was short when I uncovered her at last.
My heart-rate shot up as I looked along her semi-naked body. 'Why so much fuss? Your body is beautiful.' And it was. The skin was smooth and soft and though it bore the marks of age, it was the most fabulously feminine form that I had ever seen.
Laura snorted with defensive sarcasm: 'Yeah sure, if you ignore the middle-aged spread and stretch-marks and general slackness.' Since she was clearly a loon with issues I decide to ignore this outburst and concentrate on removing her bra which I managed with superb grace despite the slightly impatient noises coming from my now very enthusiastic co-participant.
'I was more skilled than that when I was thirteen,' she grumbled. The whingeing stopped when I lowered my still naked body onto her mostly unclothed torso. 'O ye Gods,' she whimpered. For once an appeal to the Lords of Kobol did not offend me and there was no opposition from Laura when my seeking hands moved to the belt of her skirt and fumbled with the zipper. She helped me push the skirt, hosiery and her underwear down her legs in one hurried unbundling and then wrapped her naked legs around mine with an anguished groan. 'I don't think I can wait' she said, the smell of arousal and the slick dampness merging where our legs tangled. Her hips jerked unsteadily against my thigh.
'You don't have to wait,' I promised huskily as I settled my weight against her parted legs, easing them further apart and lifting my body somewhat to create space for my hand. My fingers slid easily between her slippery lips into wet heat and her hips lifted to meet me. Laura's head went back on the desk as I gently sought and found her clitoris, easily stroking the small nub of nerves. Her eyes closed and her face twisted in that strange combination of almost unbearable pleasure and need so extreme that it hurts. Her eyes opened again as she felt a single finger press lightly against her entrance.
'Easy baby,' she groaned. 'It's been awhile for me.'
'More fool everyone else,' I replied and kissed her, thrusting into her mouth with my tongue as my finger tenderly pushed into the slick canal, feeling the muscles in her vaginal wall gradually relax to allow more movement. Once I could move easily inside her, I began a steady rhythm in and out, adding my thumb to create a firm pressure on her clit.
'More,' she said and bit her lip as I complied, adding a second finger. She didn't cry out except for strangled whimpers. Worried that it was too much I slowed the pace fractionally until I felt her fingers digging into my backside urging me on. I placed my knee behind my hand and increased the speed and pressure of the thrusts. Then Laura surged against me burying her face in my neck and sobbing for each breath. She hung onto my shoulders as though afraid of falling. As I tried to remove my hand she squeezed her legs tightly holding the fingers inside her. It was several minutes before she let me go.
'Wow,' she exclaimed finally releasing her stranglehold on me and relaxing back onto her much abused desk.
'That's all you can say?'
'Triple wow.'
I laughed and turned over on my back beside her. In seconds she had climbed on top of me and was snuggling against my chest, licking at my nipples and fingers and generally disturbing the peace.
'Don't you want a break?'
'We have thirty minutes left before you have to go and I'm not going to sleep. In fact I'm going to take an inventory of what is newly mine.'
'Humans are so possessive,' I sighed running a finger down one side of her left breast. I squealed excitedly as my finger encountered a slightly different texture of skin. 'Ooh is that a stretch-mark?' I flipped our positions and held her down while she struggled to prevent me examining her more closely.
'Beast' she huffed. I ignored the insults and the struggle and lowered my mouth to suck her nipple and then as much of her breast as I can manage into my mouth. She breathed in my ear, 'Don't stop. Don't ever stop.'
Thirty minutes later we were both dressing hurriedly and I finally voiced the fear that had dogged me ever since Laura laid down the rules.
'If we can't see each other alone any more during the negotiating period, when are we going to? I can't just leave it at this.'
'Well we have already agreed that there should be full diplomatic missions with ambassadors as well as trade negotiations. Can you be any part of that?'
'Maybe. I hadn't really considered living amongst humans again.'
'Is that hard for you?'
'In some ways it would be - there are people in the fleet who worked with me. I'm not sure a former spy would be the best ambassador.'
'Who would know?'
'You guessed after about five minutes and you hardly knew my name when I was here. Somehow it would come out and the immediate suspicion would be that I was spying again.'
'All ambassadors are spies. It's in the job description.'
I shrugged. 'There are other jobs I could do.'
Laura caught my hand and carefully wrapped my arm around her back and then slid her arms round my neck. She kissed me. I felt the need start to build inside me again. Frak knows how I would survive the next few weeks of closeness and no touching.
Laura was gazing up at me enigmatically. A look she does extremely well. 'Make it happen D'Anna. Please.'
And I did. We battled through the remainder of the negotiations, carefully avoiding all contact and time alone. We were so convincing that my fellow cylons even became concerned at the loss of rapport between myself and the President. The separation wasn't total - some evenings on the base-star Tory would (deliberately it seemed to me) engineer time alone for Laura and I and since Tory had gained sole command of a squadron of centurions we never needed to fear interruption. How she had managed this remained shrouded in mystery until one day I forced the young woman to confess that she had brow-beaten Marcus into giving her a transponder - the conversation was one of the strangest I have ever had with a human and made me remember how different we still are.
'They think you're a cylon,' I cried, genuinely outraged.
'Of course not. Marcus and I discussed the ethics and we both agreed that the centurions should know exactly what I was. The transponder allows them to identify me individually and there is an agreed protocol for what I can ask of them which includes guarding you, the President and your respective quarters. I communicate with the captain of the guard using sign language.'
I sat back in my chair and regarded my aide with a mixture of consternation and admiration. 'Sign language. I see.'
Tory was watching me in turn. 'Can I ask if you would like me to arrange some privacy for you and the President this evening?'
'You set me up with her didn't you?' I realised for the first time. 'You knew how she felt and you set us up with all that tell her how you feel and take it from there nonsense.'
'I'm sorry Ma'am. Was it bad advice?' A hint of a smile played over her face.
'Tory, you frighten me. I'd like to offer you a permanent job as human liaison to the cylon ambassador.'
It was worth making the offer to see Tory Foster not know what to say.
'I have a job,' she said quietly.
'I know but think about it. You can let me know later.'
'Would I stay on this base-star?'
'Not all the time...unless you wanted to of course.'
I thought I was being funny until Tory replied seriously,'That would be an attraction.'
I shut my mouth as soon I realised it was hanging open.
'Can I ask why?'
'I don't know if you'll understand.'
I looked at her expectantly.
'I think that the hybrid responds to me when I play music to her. I was a violinist before the war and a scientist. My research programme used music to help with people with severe mental disabilities and behavioural problems especially conditions that prevented them communicating. Results were quite positive.'
I was immediately annoyed by the implication that we were maltreating our own. Human beings are so self-righteous about things of which they have no understanding.
'Are you telling me you think the hybrid is sick because I can assure you that she is not. She would be replaced immediately.'
Tory shook her head.
'She is isolated and alone.'
I couldn't hide my exasperation. 'Why the frak are you being allowed to do this?'
'The base-star's performance has improved by five percent - the operations section thinks this is worth pursuing.'
The wind in my sails died abruptly. 'You have improved the performance of a cylon base-star and potentially all cylon base-stars.' I gaped at her not knowing whether to be angry or awed. 'Do you believe that your colonial colleagues would approve of your activities.'
Tory looked me in the eye. 'No-one should be alone.'
Immediately after this conversation I invented a job for myself that would allow me to visit the human fleet as often as I wished. It took some small effort to persuade my brothers and sisters that the position was necessary, even essential, for future peace but then it went forward to the negotiations and was agreed without any fuss. After the rows over re-armament, war-reparations, planetary settlement, fertility experimentation and researching weapons of mass destruction, agreeing to an additional cylon visiting the fleet seemed utterly banal and so the role of cultural attache was born. Laura laughed when she heard, claiming that it was such an obvious front for a spy that I might as well wear a tuxedo and carry a cane. As I pointed out I only understood her joke because of my extensive knowledge of human culture and the position was therefore perfect for me. I could explain human jokes to visiting cylons during the day and frak her brains out at night. For some reason that argument sealed the deal for Laura and she enthusiastically supported the inclusion of the post in the ambassadorial contingent.
And thus began my relationship with Laura Roslin which I am no closer to understanding now than three years ago. I still don't understand how I love her and I have never even attempted to rationalise why or how she feels the same for me. Not of course that I can know for certain whether love is the same for humans as for cylons - that is a philosophical discussion for another day. It is enough that it seems to be.
The End