The usual disclaimer stuff - don't own the characters from BSG, that honour belongs to Ron Moore. And I certainly don't own PotC... tho I wish I did.;)
Bill sighed, leaned back on what passed for a couch in his quarters, and closed his eyes for a moment. Leading a fleet, even jointly so, was tiring, and though they were sure they were heading in the right direction to find Earth, they still didn't know where it was.
He sat up abruptly and began opening draws, pushing aside mounds of paperwork and books, until he found what he was looking for.
The old lighter he'd leant Lee wasn't the only thing he'd inherited from his father. The object he now held in his hands was the sole remaining thing he had in his possession now to testify to that fact; battlestars were limiting places so most of his things had been in storage either on Galactica or Caprica, and if not vaporised then likely claimed by the Cylons. He tried not to think of that – it made his blood boil to think anything of his might be serving the Cylon cause.
But this – this he now held in his hands… this small thing he'd never shown a soul, not even Carolanne, though he had privately consulted it while married to her…
He consulted it now, though he'd forgotten it till the inspiration of the moment, the direction needed it could provide. They'd arrived at Kobol without its help, anyway, and continued along fine without it. It didn't stop the slight twinge of guilt he felt at not having thought of it sooner, though in all fairness he hadn't believed in Earth initially.
There was no help to be found now though, as he stared at the old compass needle swinging around, and finally stopping to point somewhere off Galactica's hull. He knew exactly what – no, who – the needle was pointing at, and he shouldn't be thinking of things like that now. He had a duty to this ship, to help protect the remnants of the colonies.
Bill Adama couldn't afford a luxury like love.