Written for the 'space prom 2' prompt. (That is, another Colonial Day other than the one we saw in season one.)
Bill gloomily stared into his tumbler of amber-coloured liquid.
Saul's raucous laugh made him eventually look up. His best friend was jiving with Ellen to the band's buoyant tune.
"And I can dance," he mumbled to himself before snorting.
He still had trouble believing he'd phrased his invitation quite so boldly. He'd been so confident in his ability to keep up with her. As it had turned out, he'd had to struggle... And then some...
He searched through the faces of the crowd again; his old, tired heart longing to see her in amongst the familiar faces.
"Would you like a drink?" he'd asked after the second song, giving her a chance to back out of any obligation graciously.
"No, thank you, Commander. But please, it's okay, if you're tired..."
"I'm fine!" he'd declared, dragging her lithe body back into the circle of his arms.
She'd giggled, and the light feminine sound had sent an unexpected jolt through him. "Never dare a military man," she'd murmured near his ear, her simple words somehow teasingly adding another layer to her challenge.
He'd swept her around the dance floor for another two songs after that. It was young Billy who'd finally interrupted them.
"Madam President, the Leonis representative just asked to have a word."
"I'm sorry, Commander. Duty calls," she'd said, giving him one last smile before the crowd had swallowed her up.
He turned back to the bar, forcing her smile out of his head.
"Duty calls." He frowned, wondering about the way she'd actually phrased that. He thought she'd agreed to dance with him out of some sense of duty. But, if going to see the Quorum member was her idea of clocking back on, then their dance had been...what?
"Dad!"
He looked up into Lee's grinning face.
"I never expected you to be out tonight."
"Where else would I be?" he asked. "I'm a patriot," he repeated.
"Of course you are, Dad." Lee pointed to his glass, now full of a clear liquid that Bill didn't even remember ordering. "You're not having too many of those, are you? I think Saul Tigh being drunk is quite enough for this party," Lee nagged.
He shook his head. "No. Makes me forget everything. And I'd rather keep a clear head tonight, thanks."
A young girl leaned against the bar next to them. She ordered a drink and then glanced over her shoulder. She instantly recognised the father and son, and gave them both a shy smile.
Bill pushed off the bar and patted Lee on the back. "Time for me to leave you kids to it," he announced.
"But-" Lee and the girl both started protesting at the same time.
Bill waved his hand. "I'll be fine," he assured them both.
But as he walked off, he hoped for a glimpse of red hair.
Outside, a distinctive popping sound demanded his attention. A rainbow of fireworks streaked through the sky.
"Somebody's very clever."
Laura Roslin had changed into a loose dress that flowed in waves over her curves. She was just as beautiful in the casual outfit as she was in the chic suits she usually wore.
He twisted his hands together angrily. He didn't need to think about how lovely she was.
He watched the exploding flashes of colour, ignoring her as best he could.
"Every time I look up at the stars, I imagine I can see Galactica."
The wind blew softly and he caught the faint fragrance of a flower. He wondered how she made her perfume last so long. He could smell her in his quarters long after she'd left.
Gotta woman by a stream, gonna show her all my dreams. He clamped his mouth shut as the silly lyrics sprung into his mind.
"How many more years do you think we should celebrate Colonial Day? I mean, it's all a moot point now really, isn't it?"
"Perhaps it's just a nice excuse to dance."
He closed his eyes, remembering how her body moulded against his when the music had slowed. He wasn't sure now he'd even call it a dance. She'd melted into him until they became one. His pulse had quickened and he'd broken out in a sweat at just how close they'd been. They'd been making love, right there in front of everyone, and yet no one seemed to notice, or care.
She was probably the only one who saw how he'd carefully kept her at arm's length.
He opened his eyes. The fireworks were over. People were wandering off from the party.
Slowly, he also began to follow a well-worn path.
It dawned on him that he should have told Saul he was leaving, but then decided the Tighs didn't need him bringing down the tone of the evening.
They'd been mingling with the other party-goers just fine, considering Saul hadn't wanted to be there in the first place. Bill chuckled, remembering how last year Saul had been exactly the same.
Bill had confronted him about it. "I hear you're thinking of not attending the Colonial Day festivities."
"I don't think it's very appropriate."
"Why not?" he'd asked, stubbornly refusing to make things easy.
In the end, Bill had been proud of his old friend when he'd turned up in his Colonial Fleet Dress Greys.
The President had been there too. Everyone had been surprised by that.
Bill had done his best to remain polite, saluting solemnly at his Commander-in-Chief. The President had raised an eyebrow, and offered a weak salute in return.
Bill suddenly didn't feel as tired, so he took a quick detour.
He hadn't quick stepped it up last year.
"Would you like to dance?" he'd asked a girl, but she'd declined.
He thought she was the prettiest girl he'd ever met, so he wasn't about to give up. "Can I get you a drink?" he'd asked.
Even when she'd also declined that offer, he'd never left her side, glowering at anyone who dared glance in her direction.
The night had worn on until finally she'd said the words he'd yearned to hear: "Would you see me home?"
Now, he lifted his fingers to his lips, remembering the way they'd spent the rest of the night kissing.
Sighing, he lowered himself down onto a grassy mound and stared out across at the view of the valley, lit by a full moon.
"I did it," he murmured.
He reached out and placed his hand upon the cairn.
"I got through my first Colonial Day without you."