Again, sorry the update took so long. Dang it! I hate it when life happens! This is a long chapter so hopefully that makes up for it. Let me just say, I don't know why, but writing Ellen Tigh is soooooo much fun! It should be outlawed! Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for the reviews! They are appreciated!
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Ron Moore and Sci-fi ect.
The last thing Bill wanted to hear as he took of his boots and got ready for bed was Tigh's drunken knock at the hatch. Adama knew the knock was drunken simply from years of knowing Tigh and his habits. With a heavy sigh Bill let his boot drop to the floor and slowly got up. He turned, unable to help himself, and bent down to smell his pillow. The faint sent of Roslin still lingered there. Bill wished more than hoped Tigh wouldn't end up passing out in his bed and destroying the sweet cinnamon vanilla traces.
A few long strides placed Bill at the door of his quarters. He turned the hatch and braced himself for the long night he knew was about to ensue.
"Bill," Tigh said and pushed his way into the room.
The XO didn't stagger or slur and he held something close to his chest.
"You're not drunk?" Bill said.
He smirked and felt a little ashamed for how surprised his voice sounded.
"Only had a few before I came over, Tory hid the rest," Saul said with a cheeky smile. "I could use another."
Bill smiled and walked to the drink stand, pouring them both a glass. Saul made himself at home taking up a seat around the dinning table. Bill joined him a minute later and found himself glad for some company.
"How is Tory?" Bill questioned, taking a long sip and letting the burn take away some of his woes.
Tigh emitted a noise somewhere between a growl and a chuckle.
"Damn woman is more trouble than Ell—" he cut himself short and downed his ambrosia in one swift swipe.
He slammed the glass on the table so hard Bill was relieved to see it didn't break. He only had four good glasses left. Before the attacks it had been a set of eight. Two of them had been shattered during Cylon attacks, one Tigh had already broken due to a state of drunken joking, and the most recent Bill had ruined just after he learned Roslin's cancer had returned (although his lamp shade did managed to survive).
Tigh snapped Bill out of his reverie by slamming something else down on the table. A worn, tattered notebook with beer and coffee stains on the cover. Scribbled across the top was Hands Off, Mister!
"What's that?" Bill asked watching Tigh watch the notebook.
Saul's gaze was so fixated, Bill could have believe the notebook was about to explode.
"Ellen's journal from New Caprica," Tigh finally answered.
He stood up and got himself another drink.
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New Caprica
Ten Months before the Cylon Occupation
The market was surprisingly full, Ellen Tigh noticed, she pulled her purple hood up over her head and hurried down the muddy path against the pounding rain. Rain tattered on the tarp covering the street vendor and dripped to the ground. The air was chilly and humidity caused Ellen's hair to go flat in two seconds even after she had spent all morning on it.
She had to get out of the makeshift tent she now called home, even if it meant being seen with bad hair. Without Saul in the tent the loneliness got to her and there was no way in Kobol she going to cook for herself. The only problem was she had traded most of her food stamps for home comforts, jewelry, and, of course, ambrosia.
"That's three points, ma'am," the pimply faced young boy told her before handing her the paper wrapped food.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she laughed and frantically began digging in her pockets for anything she might be able to trade.
She hated the whole stupid Colonial system of payment now. At least with money she knew where she stood. Money had never been hard for her to come by, but food stamps? Food stamps weren't very sexy.
"I've got it," a mellow rich voice said from behind.
Ellen turned in shock to discover who her generous benefactor was.
"Okay, thanks," the boy said as he accepted enough food stamps for Ellen's meal plus another.
Ellen followed the hand up to the face of Laura Roslin.
"You don't have to—" Ellen began, more than a little irritated at being in debt to someone she despised.
"It's no trouble," Roslin said, taking her food from the vendor and gesturing for Ellen to do the same.
Ellen did take some pleasure in seeing Laura's hair was worse off than hers. If Ellen's was flat then little chief's was an untamable main of cotton candy.
The two stood side by side under the tarp, safe from the downpour, and it wasn't long before Ellen felt the urge to make small talk. Ellen knew she got under Roslin's skin and that made talking to the woman at least a somewhat interesting past time. Since she had nothing better to do at the present moment…
"So, how's teaching?" She asked.
Even Ellen knew it came out lame. The fact was she really didn't give a flying frak about Laura Roslin, except to the extent Roslin no longer had power and therefore no longer mattered.
"Just fine," Laura replied with little emotion, "How's the Colonel?"
Ellen took a large bite of her food and after chewing a few times she answered.
"Miserable. He doesn't get enough shore leave. He's going to ask Bill to let him settle," Ellen said, with a touch of spite.
The wife of Colonel Tigh was more than a little aware of the deep waves of affection Bill sent Laura's direction. Of course, the information wasn't something she could use to her advantage, yet, and so it really didn't matter. Getting in a zing at Laura, however, did prove amusing.
"Perhaps things will work out for the better," Laura said, as she looked a little sadly into the distance.
Ellen huffed loud enough to draw the attention of a man passing by.
"I hope so, then maybe Saul will stop talking about how you should have won the election," Ellen replied and took another bite.
Her comment drew Roslin's attention in full. And now for the zing, Ellen thought excitedly.
"I for one wish I hadn't voted for you. Oh, if I hadn't Saul would have never let me hear the end of it, but being on this planet is a hell of a lot better than flying around up there looking for a myth," Ellen remarked with smug satisfaction as she gestured toward the sky with her sandwich.
The teacher tensed her shoulders and turned her eyes toward Colonial One.
"Well, Baltar certainly has a different approach to things," Laura stated evenly.
Good frak, Ellen thought, doesn't the woman ever get angry. Laura's lack of anger was beginning to wipe away Ellen's patience for small talk.
"I'll bet it just burns your ass every day. There he is, on your ship, in your office, doing Gods know what in your chair—"
"Running things into the ground," Laura snapped in that low growl that made Ellen nervous.
The sudden flair of anger in the quaint little teacher did manage to get on Ellen's good side. She pushed Laura lightheartedly on the shoulder and took another bite.
"There is a personality in there after all," she said, with her mouth still full.
Laura giggled and Ellen thought she was going to pass out. For a split second, Ellen Tigh actually got along with Laura Roslin. Oh, Saul was going to laugh his butt off at this, Ellen mused. Just for that, Ellen decided to reward Laura with a little tidbit of information.
"Bill's having a rough go of it. Saul said the man hasn't smiled since Baltar's ground breaking ceremony. Of course, I argued that I've never seen the man smile so what's the difference," Ellen said, knowing full well the meaning of her words.
She might have been smashed at Baltar's ground breaking but she still had eyes…and they saw things. Ellen's eyebrow lifted involuntarily.
Laura flipped that wild cotton candy hair over her shoulder and licked her lips as if shrugging off the information. Ha! Ellen mocked in her mind, little chief thinks she can play dumb with me?
"I have papers to grade. I better get back. Tell the Colonel hello for me. It was nice talking to you, Ellen," Laura said, as she pulled her coat tighter around her and prepared to go out into the rain.
"No, it wasn't, but you're too frakking nice to say so," Ellen spat and then gave Laura a sweet smile, "Thanks for lunch."
She watched the ex-President, little chief now, disappear down the muddy road in the rain, with Colonial One calling in the distance. The event amused Ellen so much she thought maybe tonight she would record it in her journal. After all, she had nothing better to do…
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Bill's Quarters
Present
Saul stood at the drink stand as he downed another glass then filled it again and returned to the chair across from Bill.
"Took me this long to finally read it," he explained. "She was always scribbling some damn thing in it. Wouldn't let me near it."
Yes, Bill thought to himself, this was going to be a long night and the company wasn't half as good as it had been the night before. Figuring Tigh must have brought it for a reason, Adama decided to get to the heart of the matter and then maybe he could get some sleep.
"What's it say?"
"You're a jackass, I'm a drunk, and Ellen is Ellen," Tigh answered in a growl somewhere between pleasure and pain.
He reached out and opened the wrinkled pages. From across the table Bill could make out Ellen's big bubbly writing, no where near as lovely as the small cursive lines Roslin penned on New Caprica.
"Frak." Bill muttered under his breath.
He really had to stop thinking about her.
"Don't worry Bill, mostly, Ellen was drunk when she wrote anything, sounds like the ramblings of a teenage drama queen," Saul said and then laughed.
Bill smiled.
"There are some entries, however…" Saul trailed off as he found a page about mid-way through the book.
"Like this one, listen," he said.
Bill was a little wary of anything Saul had to offer from Ellen's journal but he leaned back in his seat and did as ordered.
"'Saul is being a complete…' we'll skip that part," Tigh said and cleared his throat.
"…Today in the market I ran into the quaint little school teacher turned President who is now just a quaint little school teacher, and really pathetic I might add. Anyway, I didn't have enough on me for lunch so she paid. Who says there is no such thing as a free meal? I don't know how some people manage to survive being so frakking nice all the time. I nearly gagged on my food that woman is so nice. If I were her, I think I might rather have died of cancer. She asked me if I had seen Bill. I knew she wanted to know. Just pathetic. Saul brought home some really good ambrosia and I drank the whole bottle without him and, of course, told him he must have finished it off and didn't remember."
Tigh stopped reading at looked up as he chuckled at the last part. Bill let his eyes fall to his glass and watched as he swished the ambrosia around.
"Ellen is Ellen," Bill repeated, wanting to avoid the main subject of the passage Saul just read.
"Oh, it gets better," the XO said and turned a couple of pages.
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New Caprica
Two months before the Cylon Occupation
The night air was a little crisp but not altogether unpleasant. Ellen only wore a long sleeved blouse Saul bought for her on Aerlon. She wondered if she should move toward the soft light coming from the tent, and the shadow lingering just inside.
Some people might wonder what the shadow was doing, but not Ellen. The way Ellen had first noticed was completely by accident. Down the road there was a bar with cheap Ambrosia, a generous (attractive) bartender, and no questions asked. The first time she had passed Laura's tent she was almost too drunk to notice the little chief sitting just inside watching the stars.
About a week later she took Saul to the bar, which was a bit awkward considering the bartender didn't know she was married, but they all got over that issue once they had a few drinks. She and Saul were dragging each other home when Ellen happened to glance up and see Laura sitting there again. The same light, the same position, the same time. The hours were a little late for a school teacher.
Due to the fact life on New Caprica was completely boring, and combined with Ellen's natural tendency to stick her nose where it didn't belong she ventured back to the tent the same time the next night. Laura was asleep for all Ellen could tell and that ticked her off. Each night for the next week Ellen ventured to Laura's tent, hovering just outside. Each night there was no sign of life.
Saul began to wonder where she was going every night, so he tagged along. Ellen and her husband began something of a nightly tradition, wandering around camp, talking and joking, enjoying each other's company. Neither one of them felt the need to get drunk.
Ellen didn't know why, but out of all their years of marriage the past few weeks of midnight strolls had been the best. Drifting out of her pleasant memories and into the present she set her mind on the task at hand. She looked down at her watch and then up at the sky. Each time she went out with Saul she recorded the dates and times Roslin was sitting just inside her tent looking up.
Finally, yesterday, after she and Saul had gotten in an argument about Baltar and joining the rally against him, she had figured it out. Saul when outside to cool off and when she stepped out to settle things between them he made a significant remark.
"You know, tomorrow at this time, Galactica will be just about overhead," he said, trying to keep the subject away from their martial problems.
Last night Ellen had been to upset to put it all together, but this morning, after Tigh left, probably to go drink away his problems, Ellen had time to think.
So now, here she was, watching Laura Roslin watch the stars, where just over head little chief's would be lover orbited in his big ship. Ellen really didn't know who was more pathetic. Bill, Laura, or herself. With a violent shake of her head Ellen threw up her arms and shrugged.
Did she really want a friend? Did she want Laura Roslin for a friend? Hell no, she thought to herself. Ellen, even if you go over there and talk to her she's not going to be your friend. She hates you and you hate her. Best to leave it at that. And whatever you do, girl, stop being so curious and stop getting yourself into situations you don't belong.
With that thought she turned on her heel and went home, but she refused to waste the entire experience. Once home she rummaged through her drawers until she found her journal.
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Bill's Quarters
Present
Bill took and other swallow of his ambrosia as he prepared himself to listen to another of Ellen's journal entries. Saul moved his fingers down the page and finally stopped. The XO lifted the journal up a little and began to read.
"'Saul wants to team up with the teacher to make life hell for Baltar. I really don't care as long as the stupid man doesn't get himself killed but we did have an argument about it. Kobol knows the teacher needs something to do instead of pinning away for the Admiral late at night. Same time, same place, every week. Did I already call her pathetic, oh, yes, I did.
'You know, I actually feel sorry for her. I know how it is…she's not complete without Bill but, in her case, she's too damn nice to admit it. I can just hear her say it, 'No, no, I will be all nice and sacrifice my heart because he has noble responsibilities, blah, blah, blah.' gag He's part of her soul and she's part of his. If her star gazing every week when Galactica is in orbit doesn't prove it I don't know what does. Noble and nice and they'll never get together. Bill has always been an idiot when it comes to women and the way she acts, I wouldn't be surprised if L. R. is still a virgin.'…I think Ellen was drunk when she wrote that," Tigh interjected, eliciting a laugh from Bill as much as he tried to hold it in.
Tigh continued
"'They're both idiots…whatever, their problem. In the market I found a necklace and earrings…' well, it goes on," Tigh said turning a few more pages.
Bill was beginning to lose his patience and the last passage got to him. Did Laura really watch for him, or was Ellen just in her drunken fantasy world? So what if Ellen picked up on the undercurrents between himself and Roslin? She never acted on the assumption in a way that embarrassed either party, so Bill really didn't care. Beside he was feeling a little squirmy in his chair listening to Tigh read the personal diary of his dead wife.
"I think that's enough," Bill said, moving to get up.
"No," Saul said firmly. "You need to hear the rest."
With is single eye Tigh demanded Bill sit back down. With a heavy sigh Bill trusted his friend, though, he knew it was against his better judgment.
Tigh turned a few more pages and Bill noticed Ellen's writing change from bubbly to rushed and the pages grew more and more torn.
"Here it is…"
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New Caprica
Cylon Occupation
"Don't! Saul! Don't you take him," Ellen yelled frantically at the tall metal cylon centurions.
She knew it wouldn't do any good but she couldn't stand idly by while they took her husband to one of their camps. Everyone who belonged to the resistance had heard horror stories of what they did to people there.
"Ellen, Ellen," he said, taking her by the shoulders.
A model of Three was standing behind him, looking annoyed.
"I'm going to be just fine," he whispered tenderly, taking her face between his hands, "I need you to look after things while I'm gone. Alright? Can you do that?"
Ellen shook her head and tried to see him through the tears that stung her eyes. The sun overhead only added to the disorientation she was feeling.
"Are you finished?" Three asked impatiently.
Tigh's response was to grab Ellen and kiss her passionately. There lips parted with a loud snap.
"Now I'm finished," Saul said.
If Ellen wasn't so afraid to see him go she would have slapped him for the sheer chauvinism of his remark. The cylon centurions flanked each side of Three and Saul as they marched off in the direction of the camp. When she couldn't see them any longer Ellen retreated into the tent and cried until the light from outside disappeared.
When she finally started to pull herself together she heard a truck pull up outside the tent. Her heart skipped a beat as she began to hope maybe Saul was back and things were going to be alright. Ellen flipped open the canvas entry and her eyes met with a model of Eight in the driver seat. With a deep breath she stepped outside into the night air and prayed as hard as she ever had that Saul would appear in one piece from inside the back of the truck.
As Ellen hurried around to the back she heard shuffling. Her heart stopped for a moment when she didn't see Saul anywhere in sight. The anger and hurt she felt raged for a moment until she took in the full scene in front of her.
The tall blond cylon model, Six, hand both her arms wrapped around Laura Roslin's shoulders, sustaining her standing position.
"Help me get her inside," Six ordered Ellen.
What Ellen wanted to do was attack the cylon, but Roslin didn't look like she could stand on her own.
"Go away," Ellen hissed, as she drew one of Laura's arms around her shoulders.
Laura's other arm held tightly around her middle and Ellen could tell the little chief was clenching her teeth in pain.
"I'm trying to help," Six protested.
"I see," Ellen said, taking in the sight of Roslin.
The fingers on the hand around Laura's middle were bloodied, she had a large bruise on her cheek, the left shoulder of her sleeve was stained and her entire body was shivering.
"A lot of good you did," Ellen snapped.
"The drugs will wear off soon, just make sure she doesn't drink anything too strong. You might want to have your doctor examine her," Six suggested.
"Well, aren't you a frakking genius! Now, get the hell away from my house," Ellen yelled as she struggled to get Laura into the tent.
Six, obviously not listening, helped Ellen until Laura was secured on the bed.
Ellen sent Six a death stare, and she was pretty sure if the cylon didn't leave in the next few seconds she was liable to do something drastic that would put her in worse trouble than her husband.
"I'm sorry," Six said, barely audible, and left the tent.
Ellen heard the truck drive off as she bent down to look at Roslin. In all the year of running from the cylons, the threat to her life, to her husband's life, to the fate of humanity had never been as clear as it was now. Laura Roslin, the nice one, the little chief, the school teacher and leader, the one who gave everyone else strength, was lying here in Ellen's bed, bloody, obviously tortured and the sight was sickening.
"I'm going to get Dr. Cottle," Ellen said, trying to compose herself and keep her lunch down.
On the way to get Cottle she could find a trash can to hurl in, she kept telling herself.
"No," Laura said, weakly, as she grabbed for Ellen's arm.
"Why the frak not?!" Ellen demanded, her sickness subsiding into irritation.
"I don't want anyone to see me like this," Laura said, all the while her eyes remained closed and her red stained fingers dangled across her stomach.
Ellen was momentarily stunned and couldn't find the words to protest.
"They want…" Laura gasped for breath and winced, "to make me an example. To keep us from fighting back."
Laura's weak grip tightened every so slightly on Ellen's arm. The little chief's eyes opened and to Ellen's surprise, there was warmth in them.
"We can't let…that happen," she finished and with a grimace released Ellen's arm as she feel back on to the bed.
Ellen nodded.
"Rest," she said weakly and Laura closed her eyes. This had to be documented, Ellen decided. Frak what Laura said, she was going to get the doctor. They could keep it a secret if need be. Before she did anything else Ellen had to find a trash can. She would not let this happen to Saul. No matter what the cost…
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Bill's Quarters
Present
"Bill, this is…well, you'll see," Tigh said before he started reading.
From the tone in his friend's voice Bill knew there was more to this journal than simply Ellen's crackpot observations about himself and Laura. He had a little left in his glass but he decided he might need it for later. Tigh began to read.
"Saul's been having resistance meetings in our tent. Scares the hell outta me. He's going to get us all killed. The other day, they came to get him take him to one of those camps…frakkers.
"When they came to get him they dropped off Laura Roslin. She was in pretty bad shape. I hate to think what the toasters did to someone so nice. I had to help her to the bed, she could barely walk and she wasn't coherent—"
Bill was suddenly fully interested in Ellen's account. He jerked his up and leaned forward in his chair.
"What? There was no mention of this in Laura's—"
"I know." Tigh lifted his eye and gave Bill a look hard look before returning to the journal.
"'I might as well write everything because I can't sleep with this woman here. It's been a long night. At first, she refused to let me get Dr. Cottle, stupid little chief.' …That was Ellen's nickname for Roslin. She went from 'big chief' the president of the Colonies, to 'little chief' the president of the classroom…just some Ellen humor for you," Tigh interjected before continuing. Bill might have smiled but he was too preoccupied with the journal information to worry about the details.
"She took about ten years off my life when she woke up screaming bloody murder. I tried to wake her up but she was mumbling something about Isis, and babies and the prophecy.
"Finally she did wake up but she practically had a nervous breakdown. It's actually quite frightening to see the pillar of strength and wisdom in the fleet doubled over in pain and unsuccessfully fighting back tears. Zeus above, she's human after all.
"Yes, that was sarcasm, Saul, because I know someday you are going steal my journal and read this. My husband: thief and a drunk. I know you'll be around to steal it. You have to be. Huh, look at me, little chief's optimism is beginning to rub off. I hope she gets some of it back.
"The only way I could calm her down was by telling her that her Bill was coming back. I really believe he will too, for her. He is so damn noble, with a corn-cob pipe up his ass. He'll come back for us all, I just hope it's soon enough for Saul.
"Anyway, when she fell asleep I went to get Dr. Cottle. He said they probably tortured her with some kind of drugs and then physically roughed her up too. He gave her something for the pain and now she's out like a light. I pray that isn't happening to Saul. If they would do this to a kid teacher what are they doing to my…," Tigh stumbled over the next word, "love. It's been three days and I haven't seen him. I've got to do something. I'm worried."
Slowly, silently, Saul closed the journal.
"She never said anything to you?" Saul asked, breaking the emotional silence.
"Not a word. You didn't know about this?" Bill returned the question, taking the last hit of his drink.
"Ellen was right. We all looked to Laura. No one knew, except Cottle it seems," Tigh suggested.
Bill inhaled and rubbed his eyes trying to force away the beginnings of a headache and lingerings of a heartache.
"Ellen really thought we…" Bill trailed off.
He dropped his hand from his eyes and studied his friend's expression. Tigh seemed to think long and hard but, perhaps, the ambrosia got the better of him, so he spilled his information.
"I caught Geata and Dualla joking about the two of you the other day. The whole crew is talking, but the media hasn't caught wind of it yet. If you want my opinion—"
"Just frak her and get it over with?" Bill asked, tongue in cheek.
Saul laughed loudly, a clear sign Bill had been forgiven for his harsh words to Tigh earlier.
"You're not the type and neither is she. I don't know what you seen in her but I know you're happiest when you're with her. She glows when you're together. Makes me sick, like it did Ellen, but if you wanted to start something I would help with damage control. Damned if you wouldn't do the same for me," Tigh explained.
He stood up and managed to make it to the hatch. Bill smiled as he looked down but didn't say anything.
"Saul…" Bill said, before his friend twisted the door open, "Thank you."
Tigh grunted in acknowledgement and left Bill's quarters. His bed smelled like cinnamon vanilla all night.
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Despite how much he tried to forget, when he woke up all he could think about was Laura being mercilessly tortured on New Caprica. There was more to her dreams, to her vendetta with Baltar, to her colder, shrewder demeanor than what she was showing him.
He clenched his fist as he walked down the corridor of Galactica toward the life station. She didn't trust him enough to come out with the truth? That damaged more than just their professional relationship. Of course, he had to remind himself the last time she spoke to him of her dreams, the fleet fell apart and she ended up in the brig.
"Admiral," he heard Sharon's voice call from behind him.
He stopped and turned to face her.
"Lieutenant, what can I do for you?" he questioned, a little impatient at having to make time for her in his busy schedule.
"Two things actually," she began, "We've checked the logs to and from Colonial One and found something interesting. There was a transport that picked up and dropped off a number of civilians a few days before the incident. Helo and I followed up on all of them. Out of the four that had previously worked on the Tylium refining ship one of them, Samantha Kay, has an interesting connection."
Bill lifted an eyebrow. From Sharon's professional tone and body language he could tell she had a hunch as to who was responsible.
"I'm listing," he encourage.
"Samantha Kay is a member of Gaius Baltar's New Order faction," Sharon said.
There was silence as the words hung in the air between them.
"Do you have enough evidence to bring her in," Adama asked.
"Yes, sir," Sharon nodded.
"Do it," he ordered.
Bill knew full well she comprehended the meaning in his tone. Samantha Kay was going in the brig and she was about to face some serious quality time with the Admiral and the President. Bill silently hoped Baltar would stay out of it. Laura and Gaius in the same room together was the perfect chemical combination for trouble.
Adama expected Sharon to leave but instead of turning and marching off she fidgeted. In all his years as her superior officer he had never seen her fidget. Something else was definitely going on.
"Admiral," she began looking over her shoulder to see who was in the hallway, "May I have a word in private?"
Bill smirked. More often than not his crew came to him with all of their domestic problems. He had heard everything from Cally spends too long in the head in the morning to Geata cheated me at Triangle. Adama really wasn't in the mood to hear about Sharon and Helo's marital problems or perhaps more gossip about himself and Laura.
"Maybe later, I've got a busy day ahead," he stated and turned.
To his surprise, Sharon actually reached out and tugged at his sleeve.
"It's important….about the President," Sharon's almost pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.
Bill inhaled deeply. If it was gossip he was going to blow and, unfortunately, Sharon was the nearest victim.
"Alright, follow me," he ordered.
Sharon stayed in step with him until they reached the slightly open door of an empty conference room. Once inside Adama turned, with hands clasped behind his back, and faced Sharon. She was still fidgeting.
"I don't know how much she's told you…" Sharon began, pacing to left side of the room.
"Not much."
Adama tried not to frown as he said the words. After what he had learned from Tigh, Bill was beginning to wonder if he really knew anything about Roslin anymore. Sharon hesitated before continuing.
"Something…strange is happening," she said finally.
"I'm not sure I understand," Adama replied.
"Neither do we. Hera, Caprica Six, me and the President have all been sharing dreams," Sharon stated.
Bill was surprised but didn't let it show. The more Sharon said the more irritated he became at Laura for not telling him herself.
"Last night, I think the President had another dream, this time I wasn't part of it. It shook her up really bad, I could tell, shook Hera up too. Usually around me Roslin's like a steel fortress of Olympus but last night I saw a crack in her emotional armor. That has never happened before and…well, I thought maybe you should know…considering…"
Bill narrowed his eyes, trying to take in everything Sharon was saying. When he finally reached the last word is curiosity, and temper, flared.
"Considering?" He repeated, hoping what she meant wasn't what he suspected she was implying.
"She's in…she's the President," Sharon replied and Bill saw her visibly gulp.
He knew that was not what Sharon had intended to say originally.
Ever since their kiss a day ago Bill forced himself not to think about anything not directly related to Laura in a professional sense. He was still mulling over how he was going to answer the open ended question floating between them now. The whole New Caprica thing and now the whole dream thing were complicating matters more than he cared to admit.
"Do you think these dreams are affecting her ability to work?" Bill asked.
"No," Sharon answered with truth in her eyes.
"Then, let's keep this between us, for now," Bill replied and made is way to the door.
"Yes, sir…and, sir," he heard Sharon say.
He turned to face her at the door.
"Maybe you should talk to her," Sharon advised meekly.
"Yes, Lieutenant, I think I will do just that," he said as he left the room and proceeded to the Life Station.
He was going to get to the bottom of this if he had to pry information out of Dr. Cottle with his bare hands.