Colonial One, 11:00, the day the tylium refinery is destroyed by Cylon sympathizers

Billy Keikeya settled down in his seat in the makeshift office of the President of the Twelve Colonies. He willed himself to look down at the schedule in his hand and start about the work of tasking out the meetings President Roslin was supposed to attend that day.

He'd just left the woman in question sleeping, peacefully for now, on the couch a few feet away. They both knew that her death was days, if not hours, away. When he crept into her quarters that morning to wake her for the day, he'd found her curled up in a ball on the couch that served as her bed, covered in sweat and emitting a low moaning sound.

"Madam President!" He ran to the edge of the bed and stood above his boss for a moment, unsure of what to do. Realizing she was in no condition to give him any instructions, he set about carefully untangling her limbs from the sweat soaked sheets and gently positioning her on her back. The gesture served only to make her more uncomfortable, as her moans gave way to increasingly frantic gasps for air.

"Madam President?" He knelt beside her and tried to help her find a position in which it was easier to breathe. "Madam President, can you hear me?" Her eyes were unfocused, staring at something over his shoulder that only she could see. "Laura! Laura, I need you to look at me. Do you want me to get Doctor Cottle?"

The use of her first name by her normally formal aide momentarily shocked President Roslin out of the haze of pain. She grasped at his shoulder, leveraging his body to roll ungracefully onto her side. The movement caused her to cry out again as agonizing spasms racked her body but, to both their surprise, her breath came slightly easier in the new position. "No, Billy," she managed. "Remember what I said. Please." Her green eyes found his blue ones and she silently begged him not to sentence her to the machines and constant pitying looks from a barrage of well-wishers come to gawk at her in Life Station.

"I need something for the pain," she gasped, gesturing in the direction of her personal restroom. Rather than moving in that direction to fetch her pills, he considered the frail woman before him for a moment before rushing out of the quarters toward his desk.

He returned a moment later with a syringe in hand. Her eyes were closed and she was muttering something incoherent between sharp, ragged breaths. "Madam President, I'm going to give you something to help you sleep." She was beyond responding as he took her arm and prepared to inject the leader of the human race with the powerful substance, given to him by Dr. Cottle for this exact situation.

She barely noticed the prick or the strong pressure of his thumb on the tiny puncture wound, but she quieted as the medicine started to take effect. Billy stared at her face, waiting for the woman who had become the center of his world to give any sort of indication that she knew he was there. Her eyes fluttered open and she attempted a weak smile. "Thank you, Billy. For that and…," she trailed off as sleep started to envelop her.

"You're welcome, Madam President." He found her hand and patted it gently. "I'll be right here when you wake up." Her eyes registered his words and flashed with gratitude before they closed and her ragged breathing became more even.