They had become Madam President and Commander Adama, never Bill and Laura. It helped to focus on their professional obligations and relationship. Desperate as things were during the timed attacks, the one benefit was that there was no time for anything personal, allowing them the opportunity to transition into their new roles with one another.
She caught Billy staring at her sometimes, with some confusion in his gaze. Remembering his perception, she wondered what he was thinking, what he had seen, but she refused to ask. He already knew her second biggest secret, she was not prepared to confirm any suspicions he may have as to her biggest. Everyone else saw exactly what they expected to see. Two strangers trying to find a way to work together.
After the day on Galactica, she had pulled Lee aside and asked him to be her military advisor. Her reasons were two fold, she needed to have a better understanding of the military if she was going to be truly successful in her role and while she felt it was best to create a buffer between herself and the Commander, Lee was still a very real connection to him. And if by doing this, she could help Bill to reconnect with his son, then it could only be a good thing.
He hadn't known whether to laugh or yell when a stiff and formal Lee had informed him of the President's latest appointment. He could see what she was doing, and wondered briefly if Lee had any idea of the thought processes and ramifications behind her choice. Understanding the benefits of distance between them at this stage, he allowed things to stand. Other considerations aside, it was good to see that his son liked and supported the new President, and that she had someone at her side, who he could trust to watch her back.
Billy was confused.
President Roslin was right, he didn't know the first thing about women, he didn't know how to talk to them or how to act around them and not even having grown up with two older sisters had been any help. But he was an observer by nature. As an aide, it was a skill that had served him well, had helped him learn quickly. Now having been thrust from temporary aide to the Secretary of Education into the role of senior aide to the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, it was vital in helping him to anticipate. That and the fact that the President had managed to wind herself around his heart so firmly.
He had been keeping an eye on Secretary Roslin during their time on Galactica, concerned by her apparent illness, by the things she had let slip. So he had seen the flicker of amusement in her gaze as she watched the retreating Commander's back after their first encounter, one he had only caught the tail end of. He had noticed that when she returned from her 'quick word' with the Commander in the Ward Room, that she seemed more relaxed, sad but calmer.
He had seen her expression, quickly hidden, when the Commander called unexpectedly. He had seen the look in her eyes as Adama left after a meeting, when she thought she was alone in the room. Enough tiny clues to be fairly sure that they had known each other before, in some way.
And now they were acting like two people who had only just met.
There had never been any question, he always attended Colonial Day celebrations anyway, and he was politically aware enough to know that his presence, as the Commander of the Galactica, protector of the fleet, was important. So he would attend, would circulate as necessary, would keep his temper, and then he would be able to take a little time to mingle with his crew, leaving as always, before the party got too rowdy so as not to put a damper on their celebrations. This Colonial Day, the first since the destruction of their worlds, was an important statement of hope and of their will to survive.
He tended to avoid dancing at these affairs, it had been years since Carolann had accompanied him to any official functions, and he wasn't that keen on asking strangers to dance. However, when he saw her across the room, watching the whirling crowd and sipping on her drink, knowing as he did how much she loved to dance, he couldn't help himself. Making his way over to her slowly, stopping occasionally as necessary so as not to offend, but never for long, he finally reached his target. Pleased, and a little saddened, at her look of surprise when he offered his arm to lead her to the dance floor. He was happy to do something to please her, simple though it was, and yet she had obviously not expected him to.
It took only a few moments of adjustment to find their fit with each other again, for her hand to find its spot on his shoulder. She flowed into his arms, and they moved easily in sync with one another. She found herself fighting the temptation to let herself relax completely into his embrace, watching the other couples as a reminder of where they were and why laying her head on his shoulder would not be a wise idea. At the same time she wanted to memorise every second of this dance, something to hold onto as the pain worsened. She could already feel herself weakening as the cancer took hold of her body.
He was enjoying the bittersweetness of holding her again, even if it was at the respectable distance of a social dance. Feeling her hand in his, warming the gold of the wedding band, a reminder to him and him alone of her real place in his life. What caused him some concern though was the feel that she had lost weight, she seemed almost frail in his arms. Her presence and personality were compelling and held ones focus so it was only now with their physical proximity that he realized the changes in her. Some of it could undoubtedly be put down to stress, but the nagging worry he had felt at the decommissioning returned. Something was wrong. He noticed that Billy, even as he enjoyed a dance with Dee, cast a worried glance at the President from time to time, an expression that disappeared as soon as he saw the Commander's attention. Something was definitely wrong.