Disclaimer: Laura Roslin and Bill Adama are the property of the Sci-Fi (SyFy) Network, Ron Moore, and David Eick Productions. No copyright infringement is intended. Barack Obama is clearly not a character, and this story and its author do not make any sort of supposition about his personal life. Except that he's awesome.
Earth, when they find it, is not exactly what they're expecting. They've been picturing lush green grass and jewel-blue seas, mountains to climb and forests to explore. What they get is mostly glass and chrome in familiar shades of lifeless gray. Laura thinks it would almost remind her of the Cylons if it wasn't so completely devoid of any useful technology. Land-bound transportation that takes hours to go only a few hundred miles? Really? She did not leave Colonial One for this.
There are other planets and stars close by, so close you can see them...at least on certain nights if you drive far enough to escape the smog and the street lights. But this tiny planet is the only one that these people have managed to find and inhabit, so they've chopped it up and divided it, given each piece to a different person with different rules and it's all such a fragmented mess that it gives her a headache just thinking about it. How do they live with this kind of chaos? Laura shudders to think of any of these people with multiple planets to oversee, because she wouldn't trust most of them with a pet rock.
She meets several leaders and dictators and law-makers, but it's not until she gets to the country they call the United (hah!) States that she truly sees anything special. Their President is tall and slender, elegant, with a smooth tongue and a charming smile. She blushes just from shaking his hand.
"I think you could teach me a thing or two," he says almost right off the bat. Laura bites her lip, because the thoughts that are running through her head at the moment have very little to do with foreign policy. She loves Bill, really she does, and probably even more than that she admires and respects him, as a man and as an Admiral.
But damn. They did not make politicians like this back on the Colonies.
President Obama gives her a tour of his office, introduces her to his wife and children, the Vice President, the Secretary of State. She shakes countless hands and listens to countless speeches. She spends most of that time eying Barack and the way his well-cut suits hang on his lean frame. By the time the day is finally over, she's grateful to escape. She calls Bill's cell phone the second she makes it to the car (and whose idea was a device that will only communicate with certain areas of the planet at certain times anyway?) and offers an extra piece of the silly paper money to the driver as incentive to get her to their apartment as fast as possible. She crosses and re-crosses her legs in the back seat, stopping short of outright squirming. A sly smile curves her lips upwards.
Bill Adama will never know what hit him.