Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. A quote about fairness was taken from Marcus Cole, Babylon 5, episode "A Late Delivery from Avalon." Also a comment from one of the A/R scenes in "Unfinished Business" is alluded to.

Chapter 30: Making a house a home

Hargrove led Adama to a waiting area with scratchy gray chairs. Then he pointed to a spot on the wall that looked as if a square section had been extracted from it. "There are cups to the left of that. Just place the cup inside it and state whatever non-alcoholic beverage you want."

"Will that device understand my language?" Adama inquired.

The doctor nodded. "You speak a derivative of Ancient Greek. It should be able to deduce what you say. If not, ask the head nurse to help you," he explained, pointing to a circular desk at which sat a rotund woman flipping through a magazine.

"You still have magazines?" the admiral asked.

"Not on paper. Our current media is on electronic pads. All magazines like the one Barbara's reading are antiques. She collects them and what she's reading is an antique from the 1990's," Hargrove commented. Then he pointed to a table with a stack of electronic pads. "If you want reading material while you wait, we have it."

Adama glanced at the pile. "Actually I was wondering if you had a way for me to contact my fleet, depending on how long this is going to take."

"The procedure takes anywhere from two to eight hours, depending on the damage that the cancer has one. As for needing to contact your people, once again talk to Barbara," Hargrove recommended. Then he turned to leave. "Now if you will excuse me, I have a patient to tend to, your president."

The admiral sighed, eyeing the piles of electronic pads again. Two to eight hours? Looks like I'm going to be here for a while. He lifted one of them, hoping to learn something about Earth's culture. The first three only told him about the latest celebrities featured in new holographic games. I'll have to find out what those are when everything else settles down. The next two told him where to buy environmentally safe hover cars. He glanced at his watch, noting with a groan that two hours had passed and he had not heard a word.

Standing, he headed over to the nurse Hargrove pointed out. "Excuse me, ma'am. Are you Barbara?"

The blonde stout nurse raised an eyebrow, turning her head to one side. Then she looked down and adjusted the translation microphone attached to her shirt. "I'm sorry, sir. Would you please repeat that?" Adama complied and she nodded. "Yep, that's me. What can I do for you?"

"Dr. Hargrove said that you could help me contact my fleet," Adama mentioned.

"Sure. Come on back and I'll show you our communications setup," she responded.

In the back room behind the desk she had been sitting at, a small computer seemed to rise up out of the desk like a wave, looking incredibly organic. She touched a few panels next to the screen and then handed him a small microphone. "I've set it to audio-response. Just give it the basic frequency and it'll look for points to connect with," she explained before leaving the room.

He did as she suggested and soon he heard his XO's voice. "Rest of the fleet's here now. They're waiting for orders, sir," the colonel stated.

"Tell them to hold their positions. We're going to follow the rules here and take fleet-wide physicals. Is there any word from the Quorum or Lee?" Adama inquired.

"They just want to know what our status is with the people of Earth. Want to start movin' in as soon as possible," Tigh remarked.

Adama chuckled lightly. "Tell them they've got a while before they start looking at real-estate."

"They want to hear it from the president," Tigh added.

Even from Galactica, Tigh could hear Adama's change in tone. "I don't know how soon she'll be available."

"How is Laura?" Tigh asked quietly.

Adama sighed heavily. "I won't know anything for probably several more hours."

After speaking with Tigh, Adama returned to the electronic pads. Aside from articles, the pads also included advertisements, like the magazines he remembered from the Twelve Colonies. Glancing at the ads, he spotted one of particular interest and walked back over to the nurse.

"Excuse me," he began, handing her the pad. "Do you know where this place is located?"

She took the pad and read the jewelry store advertisement. "Sure do. That place is in Chicago, Illinois. Why?"

"I need to buy a wedding ring," he admitted. Barbara smiled as she watched him resume his seat, deciding to print out a map for him.

Six hours had passed between the start of the procedure and the reappearance of Dr. Hargrove. Spotting him, Adama quickly stood, as if at attention. "Did it work?" he questioned.

Hargrove saw the other man's concern and sighed. "We need to revive her. As far as I can tell from the readings, her cancer's gone, but sometimes it takes a bit longer for the actual body to revive."

He motioned for the admiral to follow him. They reentered the room with the box-like units and Hargrove walked over to one of the consoles. "It's pleasant to meet a people whose leaders have such concern for each other," the doctor mentioned.

I thought he saw us kissing. Maybe he didn't. "Actually she's my wife," Adama mentioned.

Hargrove smiled before pushing a few buttons. The doors split open and Adama looked down at Roslin. She blinked, seeing him and the doctor. "Did it work?" she asked.

"Take it slowly," Hargrove told her, extending a hand.

She took it and he brought her out of the box. When she was standing on the regular floor, Adama took her hands in his. "Your cancer's gone," he told her with a broad grin.

"That, and the scans indicate that you're healthy," Hargrove added.

A beaming smile spread over Roslin's face as she and Adama hugged. Forgetting for a moment that the doctor was still watching them, Adama lifted her off her feat and spun her around once. She giggled, joy and relief at finally being rid of that horrid disease overpowering her usual sense of presidential decorum. Together, for as long as time permits, she mused, thinking about building a cabin. She gave him an affectionate kiss, which he returned before spotting the doctor out of the corner of his eye.

Roslin turned as well and spoke. "We can never thank you properly for doing this, nor do we have the means to pay you in anything except in sweaters or books," she paused as Hargrove smirked. "Is there anything we can offer you?"

Hargrove shook his head. "The greatest gift for any physician is to see his patients thriving. All of your needs, and your fleet's medical needs, are on the house, as directed by Chancellor Byron."

Adama and Roslin exchanged glances. "'On the house?'" they asked.

"It's an expression. It means we're taking care of the bill," Hargrove explained. "Chancellor Byron would like to meet with your government soon. He's still on the station."

The doctor led them back to the room in which they had met the chancellor. Byron smiled warmly at them. "Admiral Adama, Madame President. Forgive me for being intrusive, but was the treatment successful?"

Roslin and Adama both grinned as she spoke. "I'm cancer-free and healthy."

"Marvelous. Do you feel up to discussing government matters now, or would tomorrow be better?" Byron asked.

"Chancellor Byron, thank you for your consideration. It would probably be best to discuss them now," the president remarked.

He folded his hands in his lap. "Very well then. I think that your government and mine should meet to find out exactly where we can place your people."

Adama decided to add something. "I'm almost certain that none of my people would be carrying this virus you're looking for, but if some of them have negative blood types, will they still be able to live on Earth?"

"A sensible question, Admiral. We have a vaccine to give them and after waiting a week with the vaccine, they should be able to join you on Earth," Byron replied.

"Where should our government meet with yours?" Roslin inquired.

Byron thought for a moment. "A conference in London would be acceptable."

"We need to stop over in a place called Chicago first," Adama mentioned.

Roslin raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Adama showed her the map that Barbara had printed out for him. "I found an ad for a jewelry store. I owe you a descent wedding ring."

She smiled and kissed him softly. "It's alright, really. You don't have to do that."

"We're here, and they have resources. I don't need to hide the fact that you're my wife. So we tell the Quorum. We got them to Earth. They'll be more interested in that than in us," Adama persuaded.

Roslin chuckled lightly. "Alright. We'll get the ring first, and then we'll tell them."

They returned to the fleet and the London meeting was arranged. Wanting to follow Adama's plan, Roslin left Lee in charge of the Quorum until she and Adama would see them again in London. After the stop in Chicago, they stood in front of the Quorum. The delegates stood in a circle around their leaders as the group waited for the members of the United Coalition of Earth to arrive.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Roslin began, "We have finally reached our destination and I'm proud of all the efforts it took to get here. We have lost many people, family members, close friends," she paused for a moment of silence as the others dropped their heads. "We will not forget their sacrifices. And we have also gained, new friends, sometimes even new families," she held Adama's right hand with her right, "and now it is time that we renew our ties with our lost brothers and sisters of the Thirteenth Colony. They have welcomed us with open arms and I hope we can share our culture with them."

"Here, here," Lee shouted out.

Zarek sighed, still having remained in his old position as vice president. At first Roslin was worried that he might refute her speech. But then he smiled, looking from her, to Adama, to Lee, to the rest of the Quorum. "So say we all," he stated before clapping, setting an example that the other Quorum members quickly followed.

Roslin glanced at Adama again. "Before we meet with the other delegates, the admiral and I have one more announcement." She showed them the gold ring on her left hand with a diamond shaped like a rose. "We're married."

Almost immediately there was a murmur of discussion. To their relief, one of the other delegates shouted, "Took you two long enough," and the others chuckled.

The Earth delegates all welcomed the Colonials with handshakes as the proceedings began. It was decided that though they could not give the Colonials their own mass of land to call a country, they could give them 'nation within a nation status,' that if they wanted to retain citizenship to the Twelve Colonies, as well as the countries that they would be welcomed into, then the could do so. The Colonials would be moved mostly to Canada, Australia, and Russia, with smaller groups trickling into the United States and Europe.

Gaius Baltar stood at the second-story balcony sliding door of the apartment, staring out at the gray sky. He held a steaming blue mug of coffee in his hands. "I believe it's going to rain," he stated.

A snort from behind him caused him to turn as Sonya meandered into view. She set her black coffee mug down on the knotty pine end table to adjust the tie of her green bathrobe. "What was your first clue?"

He cracked the door open for a moment and then closed it again. "It smells like rain for one. And secondly, those clouds drifting in are definitely storm clouds."

She retrieved her mug and joined him at the sliding door. "Of all places, you had to pick one that gets this much rain. It's a good thing they gave us umbrellas for free."

Taking a sip of coffee, he faced her. "True. And we're not jobless. For some unfathomable reason, these people here wanted us working at with their new energy conservation fascilities."

"You sound about as excited about all this as I feel," she added.

He sighed, watching as a small flock of geese flew by. "It feels as though I'm living someone else's life."

Finishing off her coffee, she placed the mug back on the end table and crossed her arms. "That's because in a way we are. It's ironic that you and I are alive when so many good people are dead. People risked their lives for us, why? We don't deserve this," she paused to gesture around the apartment, "any of this."

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're right, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't continue living anyway. I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair, and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe."

She snickered. "How long did it take you to come up with that speech?"

Glancing down, he replied, "Quite a while, actually."

"I hate to tell you this, but it needs work. I've heard better speeches from people selling who-knows-what on the Prometheus," she goaded him.

He scoffed, finishing his coffee, also setting it down on the end table. "You're just mad because you can't come up with anything better."

Turning to see his face, she grinned like someone holding a full house at a poker game. "Dr. I-need-the-president's-speech-writer, I can do better than you. Indeed life is unfair, but what does that mean for us? Do our shallow lives have value because others have deemed us worthy for sacrifice? Do we dare to think highly enough of ourselves to think of this as justice? Perhaps we ought to live our lives so that we can make a positive difference."

"Not bad. You might be onto something, but my speech was still better," he tossed back.

She rolled her eyes. "Apparently I need to pour some of that skin-melting acid over your ego."

"You'll never get away with it," he countered.

Smirking, she picked up her empty mug and then his, heading into the kitchen. "What are you going to do, tell the admiral?"

A breeze blew off of Lake Sinclair in Georgia, partly cooling the warm air of the afternoon. "You know Bill, I never thought I'd live to see this," Roslin told him, sitting on their porch swing.

Adama exited the house, closing the screen door behind him. "Just goes to show you, Laura, never give up hope." He had echoed her words at his promotion, which seemed so long ago, as he handed her a cold glass of ice tea and joined her on the porch swing, also holding a glass.

"Hmm," she paused as she took a long gulp. "It was wonderful for your crew to do this, building us a cabin."

"It was their way of saying 'thank you,' for bringing them to Earth," he replied, his gaze drifting to the black dragonfly that had taken up residence on the railing in front of him.

Roslin smiled, noticing the insect. "Look, it's Henry."

Adama snorted. "Are you naming them now? That's the one thing I wasn't prepared for when we landed, the bugs.

"I'm not naming all of them. That one just tends to sit in the same spot when he visits," she mentioned.

"How do you know it's even the same bug?" Adama asked, returning to his ice tea.

Roslin sighed and smirked at him. "Because he keeps coming back and hanging around you."

Adama shrugged. "Give me a few weeks and I'll find a real pet you can name."

"Only if it's a black dog," she informed him.

He smirked at her terms. "I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, what we brining to the wedding tomorrow again? With all the transfers from the fleet to Earth that we've been looking at, I forgot what we decided on."

She watched the dragonfly leave, darting out across the lake. "I'm trying to make one of those Earth dishes, something they call potato salad. Then we have the books you set aside for them. Of course there's the photo album too. And then you have that carved plaque that you've been looking for a chance to give him."

"I can't believe I forgot about that. I hope they like it," Adama stated, finishing off his ice tea.

"Why wouldn't they? It's a beautiful carving of that beach over in Hawaii," she reminded. Then she rested her hand on his forearm and gave him a warm smile. "You're his father. Anything from you will be special."

They had agreed to hold the wedding in Adama and Roslin's new backyard, with tall trees offering shade from the warm sun, as well as a beautiful setting. The local inhabitants had introduced them to foldable white chairs. The backyard was full of family and friends as Lee stood at the front by the priest.

Both Adama men watched the sliding door with anticipation, looking for the bride and Roslin. Unfortunately both were still in the bathroom trying to piece together the bride's outfit. Kara pulled unsuccessfully at the gold veil. "How do you put this frakkin' thing on? Yours was easier."

Her mother-in-law-to-be smiled politely. "That's because it's always easier when you put something on someone else instead of yourself."

"Fine, your logic beats mine any day. Now could I please have a little help here?" Kara grumbled, reaching behind her to push the zipper to her dress up with one hand. "Deities, this is too frakkin' tight."

Roslin finished setting the veil. "It shouldn't be. Wasn't it sized properly?"

Under the veil, Kara blushed as Roslin pushed the zipper up the rest of the way. "A month ago it would've been."

"What do you me- oh. Should I offer a double congratulations today then?" Roslin remarked.

"Just don't tell the 'Old Man.' Lee and I want to tell him after the reception. If he gets wind that we let it slip to you first, again, I'll never hear the end of it," Kara explained.

The older woman smiled, walking the blonde woman toward the door. "Your secret's safe with me."

Adama met Kara and walked her the rest of the way over to Lee. "Thanks sir," she whispered.

"The honor's mine," he replied with a fatherly smile.

Seeing that Kara had successfully reached her destination, Adama rejoined Roslin. "That's the same priest that married us," he said, looking over at them.

She nodded. "Poor man's back for more."

Adama smirked. "You don't think those two will stick with tradition?"

She had to bite her cheek to keep from telling him what she had already discovered. "When have those two been traditional? We are lucky to get them this far."

Her husband chuckled quietly, turning his attention back to his son and Kara. Lee grinned, pushing Kara's veil back. "Well Starbuck, now you can't say I don't finish what I start."

She smirked. "We'll see about that, Apollo."

"You look great," he remarked.

"I clean up well," she responded.

He shook his head. "You look beautiful," he whispered.

The priest cleared his throat. "If it's alright with you two, may we get on with the ceremony?"

"Sure," they answered simultaneously.

They joined hands, interlacing fingers as his father and step-mother had done. Then the priest took the white string, looping it first around Lee's wrist, then Kara's, and lastly tying their wrists together.

"This string represents the linear progression of the human lifespan. As you are joined now, may you also be joined in every aspect of your lives. May your love for each other grow, and may your lives prosper. Now, Major Lee Adama-"

"Actually, could you hold off on the rank please?" Lee requested.

He shrugged. "Like father, like son, I suppose. Alright, Lee Adama-"

Kara cleared her throat. "And could you put our call signs in between our first and last names? He's Apollo and I'm Starbuck, in case you weren't sure about that."

The priest nodded and sighed. "Without further interruption, Leland Apollo Adama, do you take this woman's hand in marriage, through famine or harvest, in frailty or health, for as long as time permits?"

"I will," the young man replied with conviction.

The priest nodded and then turned to Kara. "And do you, Kara Starbuck Thrace, take this man's hand in marriage, through famine or harvest, in frailty or health, for as long as time permits?"

"I will," she answered firmly and without hesitation.

"Your lives are now one," the priest told them as he untied the string. "I now present to the witnesses, Mr. and Mrs. Leland Adama," the priest announced. He opened his mouth to say his last line, but once again the bride and groom beat him to the punch as Lee wrapped his arms around Kara's waist, hers linked behind his neck, and they kissed passionately.

"Is anyone ever going to allow me to finish my ceremony?" the priest complained with a half-smile.

The guests laughed. "Perhaps such lines aren't necessary," Roslin told him.

After chairs were rearranged, food was brought out and the reception began. Kara and Lee were given gifts from several friends. Abigail had been able to attend and gave them a set of wine glasses, that they were not supposed to break, with gold-plated rims and a star pattern engraved in them. Cottle had found them glasses, that they could break, that were covered in blue Pokka-dots and shaped like squares. Tigh of course gave them his last bottle of Ambrosia, which to everyone's surprise, Kara told them would be opened later. It was then that Roslin noticed Kara was not drinking champagne.

When Lee and Kara received Adama and Roslin's gifts, both blinked away mist in their eyes. Kara walked over and hugged both of them. "Thanks sir, Madame Prez."

"One of these days you'll end up calling me 'Laura' and I'll be in shock," Roslin told her with a smile.

Lee hugged them as well. "Thanks, Dad. You didn't have to do any of this."

"You're our son, and now officially Kara's our daughter. That's all the reason we need," Adama conveyed.

At the reception's close, Lee and Kara lingered, asking Roslin and Adama to follow them into the kitchen. "We have something to tell you, sir," Kara began.

She glanced at Lee and he continued. "You and Laura are going to be grandparents."

Adama smiled broadly. "Congratulations."

Roslin followed suit, but afterward Adama caught her eye. "You knew, didn't you?" he asked her.

"I found out by accident," she admitted. He chuckled and they walked Lee and Kara to the door before returning to their cleanup duties.

Four months after the wedding, a package arrived at the door. Roslin opened it to find a man holding an electronic clipboard. "You Laura Adama?"

Not 'Madame President,' or even 'Roslin,' but 'Laura Adama.' She grinned. "Yes, I am."

"Sign here please," the man instructed.

Then he left and she inspected the package. Adama would be home soon, having spent a week on Galactica, preparing to pass it on to Tigh, who wanted to explore this Milky Way galaxy a bit before settling planet-side. The package was a pod-like metallic carrying device with a handle and what appeared to be its own environmental systems.

"What in the name of Pythia is this?" she wondered aloud.

A bark from the pod answered her question. She pushed a few buttons and two doors split open to reveal a black puppy. "Oh my goodness! What are you doing in there?"

She had not noticed Adama walking up the path to their front porch. "Kara met a friend who breeds them. The Earthers call it a 'Labrador.' You said you wanted a black dog. I just didn't realize that they shipped animals that way."

A broad smile spread over Roslin's face as she looked back at him, holding the puppy in her arms. "Thank you."

He placed the pod at the end of the porch after looking it over for a moment to deactivate it. "I suppose you'll want to name it 'Digger' like the other one."

She walked over to him and kissed him softly. "That would be a little odd, considering that the pink string around its neck probably means that it's a girl." They walked around to the backyard and set the puppy down, watching as she sniffed the grass and began to explore the yard. "'Midnight' then," Roslin suggested.

His brow furrowed. "First of all, everything black gets named 'midnight,' and secondly, midnight looks more blue than black anyway."

She gave him the over-the-glasses look. "Fine. I've seen this candy called 'licorice.' Maybe we could call her that."

"I will not have the family dog named after food," he remarked, sitting on one of their porch chairs.

Roslin sighed and joined him, shortly followed by the puppy. Like Digger, the puppy wanted to lie on top of her feet. "Perhaps 'Pythia' then?"

"That one might do," he replied.

"Naming pets is becoming as difficult as naming people. I wish Kara and Lee the best of luck," Roslin remarked.

Adama smirked. "At least they've decided against the Earth philosophers. It'd sound strange calling 'Sophocles' or 'Aristotle' in for dinner."

His wife laughed heartily. "Do you remember when they were considering artists? The last ones sounded normal at least."

"Zachary William or Laura Katherine, much better than Da Vinci or Van Gough for children," he agreed.

She reached for one of his hands and squeezed it. "I'm glad my term's almost up. Lee deserves a chance at being president."

"You just want to spend more time with the grandkids," Adama teased.

"Maybe you're right. Then again, I hear they're holding elections for a school district administrator," she mentioned.

He looked out at the lake in thought. "Of course a position like that leads to a person being the Secretary of Education, which leads right back to the president."

Chuckling, she nodded. "I might not be able to stay out of politics indefinitely, but I can try."

The familiar black dragonfly landed on the porch railing again. This time the puppy noticed its presence and jumped from Roslin's feet. It bounded over to the railing, startling the dragonfly. As the insect took flight, the puppy continued to follow it. Roslin stood, running after the puppy to keep her in the yard. "Pythia, stop chasing Henry!" she called out.

Adama chuckled, watching the scene in front of him with a warm smile. If this was how they were going to be spending the rest of their days, then he would not wish for anything more in this life. He stood, noticing that the dog and the dragonfly were heading closer to the lake, onto the small dock. "Laura, look out for the-" a splash told him that he was too late, "never mind."

He found her standing in the lake, the puppy paddling circles around her. "I suppose I needed to cool off anyway," she remarked, giggling.

"Want some help getting out?" he asked, stepping closer to the edge of the dock.

Seeing that mischievous glint in her eye, he was suddenly worried. "I've got a better idea," she stated, grabbing his ankle. "Why don't you join me?"

Trying to pull one ankle free, he lost his balance and fell into the lake with her. "That was sneaky. Now we're both soaked and still fully clothed," he scolded.

She grabbed his uniform lapels and kissed him deeply. "Whose fault is that?"

Fin…………………………………………..

(I'm sorry that it took me soooooooooo long to update! My muse was misbehaving and my computer kept overheating. My thanks to darth rat, kappaomega, Ms. McGonagall, Mariel3, carolann, gynji, Ceridwyn2, Ionel, BossaNovaBaby24, and voodooDRUG for reviewing. I have greatly appreciated all of your comments and compliments as you've joined me for this endeavor. I had no idea that this story would be so long. It just took on a life of its own. Once again, thank you :D)