Lee often told people the only thing he shared with his father was their blue eyes.
He still felt that way, mostly, but their relationship had thawed in the months since the attacks. After Kobol, Bill Adama seemed to want to make a late in the game effort at being a father and so, in his usual fashion, he ordered Lee to his quarters at least once a week to have a drink and make awkward small talk.
"I'm just gonna use the head, make yourself at home," the elder Adama announced after he let Lee in the hatch. He stalked off in that direction, shedding his uniform jacket as he went.
Lee poured two glasses of Ambrosia and made his way to the huge leather couch in the center of the room. If being the Admiral's son had one perk, it was occasional use of his luscious, private quarters.
He set the drinks down on the table and removed his boots. When he sat back, his hand caught between the cushions and snagged on something soft.
He'd just pulled out a very familiar pair of lacy silk underwear when his father came back into the room.
One set of blue eyes met another and Lee spoke without thinking.
"Why the hell are the president's underwear stuck in your couch?"
The Admiral's eyes narrowed dangerously and Lee's stomach dropped.
Mentally, as he fought the urge to throw up, he added one more note to the list of things he shared with his father.