Dress Code
Rating: K

Disclaimer: I have no relation to RDM, et al. Nor am I a lord of Kobol. Therefore these characters are not mine and I fully acknowledge that I am playing in someone else's sandbox for my own momentary entertainment.

A/N: AU future fic where they don't find Earth for a long time.

Kara sighed and settled further into the warm soapy water filling her tub. She'd never really been one for baths, too much to do to laze around in quickly cooling water. But the water was still warm and she needed the time to prepare herself for the night to come.

Intimate state dinner seemed rather like an oxymoron to her, but of course nobody had asked her. Technically, she hadn't even been invited; apparently the diplomats were tired of dealing with the military which meant she wouldn't be wearing her uniform. Instead she was going as a plus one in civilian clothes.

This, sadly enough, was what had her nerves working over time as she carefully shaved her legs. Not the fact that she was going to be forced to make pointless small talk with people who had never left the surface of their planet. But the fact that she was going to be doing it in a gown. Kara hated wearing dresses. Something always seemed to go wrong when she wore them. She'd worn a dress, a typical girlish confection of pink and lace, to the last concert her father had played before abandoning her. She'd worn a dress, a simple black sheath, the night Zak had proposed, never suspecting she'd be wearing it again a week later. She'd worn a dress, a filmy blue-green dream that she'd been amazed to find, to the Colonial Day celebration that had altered the course of her life.

She hadn't worn a dress in the twenty years since, in no little part because it would have had to have been the same dress. They hadn't been easy years and she hadn't wanted to bring down more trouble. They'd lost a lot of people, including the man whose job she'd taken. Bill hadn't lived to see Earth, but he had been there for the birth of his grandchildren. Kara would always be grateful that at least one of the Adama men had managed it. Lee had been off ship playing politics both times.

Kara smiled, remembering Lee's frantic apologies, when he realized that despite commandeering a shuttle as soon as he'd heard the news he'd still missed the entirety of the birth of his first child. He hadn't bothered with verbal apologies the second time, just hunted down the best alcohol in the fleet for a celebratory toast. If her precocious daughter hadn't been experimenting again, she should still have most of the bottle in a cabinet a few feet away. Maybe she could sneak some before meeting Lee to catch their raptor down to the surface.

Only if she dressed quickly. Kara pulled the plug and rose. She turned on the shower to wash off the last bubbles then stepped out into the chill air. She eyed the dress hanging on the back of the door. One hand reached out and she savored the smooth silkiness of the deep blue satin under her fingertips admiring Sharon's taste. Times were changing once again and if the Earthers didn't know that Quorum Chair Lee Adama was married to Admiral Thrace, who was she to clue them in?