Roslin sat on the cool grass reveling in the feel of the sun on her back when a shadow fell over her from behind. She turned to look over her shoulder, but the calm world had disappeared into a chilling fog. The sound of whispering was all around her, but she couldn't make it out. Then she felt a presence beside her.
"Laura, I have something to tell you—"
Roslin woke with a shudder and when she realized that she was still safely onboard Galactica she took a deep breath and waited for her heartbeat to slow. She felt Bill shift beside her and settle again. The voice in her dream had been familiar; it was the Cylon, Leoben. She wondered momentarily if it was another vision, but she hadn't had one in nearly two years. There was no reason to think it was anything more than a dream. Laura, I have something to tell you— She shook the unsettling words away and carefully eased out of Adama's rack with the hope that he wouldn't wake. He didn't.
She wandered into the main room where the remains of their interrupted dinner sat on the table. Roslin poured herself a glass of the red wine from the bottle that Bill had brought out from his personal store. Interruptions and fleet business had been the order of the day for both of them. She had spent the previous day shuttling between Colonial One and Galactica observing the Cylon in the brig, handling continued preparations for Baltar's trial and dealing with Tom Zarek.
Her Vice President had suggested that she declare martial law for the duration of the trial and she was tempted to do so. After all, Adama had no desire to overthrow the government. The extra security forces might prove valuable. She had been considering the issue off and on, until their dinner. By the time the two of them managed to sit down together neither had been very interested in talking about much of anything. They simply sat and enjoyed a quiet moment amid the chaos of the day. A moment that was all they got before their meal was interrupted by a call from the XO.
One of the newly relocated refugees from the Faru Sadin had snuck out of the hangar deck and made an attempt to get into the brig, presumably to kill Baltar. The guard had been stabbed and the refugee severely wounded by a bullet to the shoulder. Bill had stifled his obvious frustration. Then, with a quick apology and an assurance that it shouldn't take long, he left. She had stayed behind out of a simple need for some peace and relaxation.
By the time he had come back she was already half asleep in his rack. She had heard him walk by the table and sit down at his desk. Roslin guessed he had been up for at least another hour before he had finally decided to get some sleep. Interruptions had most definitely defined the current state of things, including her now interrupted dreams. Roslin finished her glass and climbed back into bed to make another attempt at rest.
Adama woke a few hours later at 0459 to start another day just before his alarm went off. The first thing he focused on was Laura. He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her exposed neck in a decidedly firmer manner than he the last time she had been asleep beside him. It was a relief to not have to hide his feelings around her. It reminded him of his visits to New Caprica and the blatant flirting that they'd allowed themselves, but even when she had just been Laura there had been a certain lack of serious intent behind the flirting, a boundary that neither of them had felt entirely comfortable in crossing. It had been one thing for them to both be making advances and entirely another to openly acknowledge to each other that they had been contemplating a real romance.
Well now they had survived that conversation and there was no more careful restraint, at least when they were alone together. It did make proper decorum in public slightly more challenging, but it was a small price to pay for the opportunity to drop the Admiral facade for a few hours a day.
Adama got up, took a quick shower and changed into a fresh uniform. He finished buttoning up his jacket and grabbed the bowl of cold, algae-based noodles off the table. He carried the bowl to his desk and sat down. While he finished his leftovers and looked over the paperwork that he had been unable to review the night before he was suddenly reminded of years ago when he had been on leave eating a cold dinner while his sons slept in their beds, and Carolanne was lying asleep on the couch.
Cold dinners, long deployments and waking up alone, those were a few of the many things that had made Carolanne unhappy. But he had set her aside along with his ring and had decided to take a risk. Laura was different and he didn't have to keep telling himself that, he knew it. He knew that if nothing else he wasn't about to back out when he had the opportunity to have someone in his life that was capable of understanding him. Besides that, it was a chance to be lighthearted and exercise his sense of romance.
Adama allowed himself a rueful smile over his current lack of resources and the precious little opportunity he had to indulge in anything that wasn't part of the serious business of protecting the Fleet. It would most certainly be a challenge given the present state of affairs and would undoubtedly require some creativity. He had already had to exercise a measure of creative scheduling to even fit in their dinner among the various meetings he had endured the day before. Between Helo's interruptions that reminded him vaguely of a bumbling puppy, his unusual request to speak with Tory and awkward phone calls in front of Saul, nothing had quite gone as planned.
Tory had been relatively easy to handle, much to his surprise.
"I need a favor," he had said when Tory had stopped by his quarters per his request. "I need you to be prepared to do some damage control."
"Sir?" Tory had been mercifully observant. He had seen her gaze drop to his hand and then glance at the ring on his desk. He could almost see her quick mental assessment of the ramifications.
"I'm sure it hasn't escaped your attention that the President and I are—close," he had said. He had taken off his glasses and leaned back in his chair. "The situation has changed recently and Roslin and I have decided to deal with matters between us openly. We are both still dedicated to maintaining complete professionalism and carrying out our duties to the Fleet appropriately. I don't have to tell you to watch out for the press, but I thought I'd give you some warning. We both know that the last thing Roslin needs during the trial is to be fending off rumors that she's involved with the Admiral of the Fleet."
"I understand," she had replied. "There won't be any problems." She had turned to leave and stopped short of opening the hatch. "Sir—to be honest, I don't think you two could have picked a worse time, but—good luck."
Good luck indeed. He was going to need it, he knew. The call that he had received after the meeting with Tory to confirm his dinner plans with Roslin had simply been a painfully awkward, albeit very short, exchange to conduct in front of Saul. He hadn't bothered to explain the situation to his XO. Saul had taken one look at him, flashed a knowing smiled and nodded.
Adama sighed as he abandoned his efforts to concentrate on the paperwork in front of him and was about to reach up to rub the knot in his neck when Roslin beat him to it. He felt her hands slide over his shoulders and closed his eyes while she massaged the tight spots out of his muscles.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you spend more time at your desk than I do at mine," she said. He couldn't help another smile and felt the tension in his neck fade.
"I've been thinking," he said. Roslin paused. What now?
"Should I be worried?" she asked. If Bill was having second thoughts…well, it was frankly the last thing she wanted to deal with at the moment. Adama looked over his shoulder at her and raised an eyebrow.
"No," he replied with a suppressed chuckle. "I just think that we should be, careful, take things slow." Roslin leaned forward with her arms draped lightly over his chest.
"You were the one who started this," she said just inches away from his ear. "And now, you want to be careful." She stood up straight and withdrew. "Interesting."
"I only meant that we should be careful in order to avoid rumors," he said quickly. Adama got up abruptly from his chair and turned to face her. "I should check in with CIC before Saul worries and comes down here." He obviously wanted to avoid getting into any kind of in depth discussion so Roslin didn't push.
"We wouldn't want Saul to worry," she offered. They would talk about it later. She would make sure that they talked about this later. Adama took a moment to grab his ring and put it back on his hand before he left. Roslin made a note of that and then went about getting ready for the day.
After she showered, Roslin changed into the extra outfit that Tory, being the ever mindful aide that she was, had had sent over to Adama's quarters the night before.
Roslin wandered back over to Adama's desk and while she finished with drying her hair she looked down at the picture of him and his sons standing by his Viper. She had asked Bill about that picture once and he'd told her that it was from a time when Lee still thought that his father was a hero. She had heard other stories about his past service and she wondered how much of the cocky Viper pilot had survived in William Adama. Not much it seemed. She imagined that the war and his marriage must have taken their tolls.
Just as Roslin was gathering her papers in preparation to head out and take a shuttle back to Colonial One she was interrupted by the sound of klaxons and the ship wide announcement.
"Action stations, actions stations. Set condition one throughout the Fleet. This is not a drill."