Dear Inkdrops, thank you so much for reading, following and commenting!
Yes, I am also dying to get Laura and Bill together and I hope this chapter will make you, my dear readers, (at least a bit) happier.
It is also a longer chapter as I understand that the last ones have been quite short and I definitely had enough material to go into this one.

Disclaimer: I don't own BSG, only my OC's.

New Year's Eve 1803

More than a Deja-Vu

William Adama

Bill was fuming, he had told Kara time after time to get ready early so they would be on time and still the girl had managed to make them be late. The chance for making a good impression had potentially been spoiled. Well, hopefully nobody would notice them being late, especially not the hosts or a certain brown-haired lady, but usually Bill wasn't that lucky. The carriage came to a stop in front of Adar House and him and Kara climbed out. Just as the last time, no expenses had been spared, the Christmas decorations that were still up were exquisite, tinsels and silk ribbons and baubles that were definitely made of Venetian glass. Apparently, the dances had not begun yet, which gave them time to make conversation with people they knew. Or rather to stand there a bit awkwardly and look for someone they actually wanted to talk to.

"Commander, Miss Thrace," a light voice suddenly startled him.

When they turned around, they came face to face with Mrs Ditton, looking even more attractive now that the fatigue of her pregnancy had worn off.

"What a pleasure to meet you, we all hoped that you would attend this ball," she added brightly, leaving Bill to wonder who "we" was refering to. Probably the whole extended Agathon-Clan.

"A pleasure to meet you too, Mrs Ditton," he answered in kind, bowing lightly, "you seem very well. How are the children?"

"Oh, they are great, the little one is not quite sleeping through the nights yet, unfortunatedly, but we all had the most wonderful Christmas at Roslin House and Lila was engrossed with the pudding."

"Children...," the older man smiled. Just as he wanted to add something, they were rudely interrupted by Ellen who came out of the blue like a hawk on his prey, not caring that he was currently talking to someone else.

"Bill!" she exclaimed, leaving im to shoot Isabella Ditton an apologetic look. She just smiled and curtsied, before walking off to talk to somebody else. Out of the corner of his eye, the Commander perceived how Kara snuck away,too, probably to find her friends.

"I have been looking for you all night," Ellen claimed, quite certainly exaggerrating, "and I have no idea where Saul has gone off to. Probably to get drunk somewhere."

She shrugged her shoulders a bit indifferently.

"But you won't believe it," Ellen prattled on, "that dress this Roslin-woman is wearing. Outrageous!"

Trying to look disinterested, Bill slowly raised an eyebrow. "And what is so outrageous about it? I haven't seen her yet."

The blonde woman huffed.

"You would think she were a duchess or something, wearing clothes like that. Or even better, the Queen! And it looks so - French! One could believe this horrible Joséphine Bonaparte were standing right in front of you! I would have hoped, no, I would have expected, more patriotism from a woman like her!"

Patriotism, again. Why was everyone accusing Laura of not being patriotistic? And even if it was so, he was not going to judge her. Bill was a proud Englishman, no doubt, but he had also seen his fair share of unnecessary cruelty on their side of the lines during his time at war. We knew the British were far from innocent, far from the angels they prided themselves to be. Of course, these were things one should never say out loud, not as a commander. Though he had dropped a hint, this one time, in a letter last summer...

He hummed some kind of agreement, eager to get out of Ellen's clutches.

"The Cains aren't here tonight, he is away on duty and I believe she didn't feel like coming alone. I don't know, this woman can be such a snob sometimes," she told him next, totally missing his barely concealed sigh of relief.

All this time, his eyes kept straying to the place where he had first seen Laura more than half a year ago, a time that seemed much longer and still like yesterday. Sometimes he had felt so close to her just to realize he basically knew nothing about that woman. Nobody was there, the spot next to the wall stayed empty. After what felt like an eternity, Ellen felt she had talked enough and went off, probably to start flirting with some young noble offspring. The Commander felt it was time to get some punch and maybe check on Kara, but when he turned around he stopped dead in his tracks. The spot that had been vacant before was filled now by two animatedly talking women. He could only see the profile of one of them, a pretty blonde, whom he identified as Isabelle Agathon. The woman next to her was standing with the back to him, she had her hair done up in a circlet that was decorated with pearls. Even without looking at the expensive dark-blue fabric of her dress, he knew that it was the woman he had been looking for all evening. Mrs Agathon apparently asked something that Laura refused, if the blonde woman's shrug in response was any indication. When Mrs Agathon had left, Ms Roslin finally turned towards the room.

It seemed to take her less than a moment to find his eyes and, just like the first time, he felt caught. Just like the first time, she gave him a half-smile and a small salut with her glass of punch. However, there seemed to be something else now as well. There was a faint familiarity that couldn't be denied. There was a connection that spun through the room, pulling him towards her, stronger than when he had first seen her. There was a trace of seduction in her eyes, he wasn't even sure whether it was deliberate, but in any case it worked.

It was a fraking déja-vu, but with far more possible implications.

Before the knew what he was doing, he was already moving towards her, everything else becoming only background noise. He bowed properly in front of her and she responded with a curtsy after setting her glass on a side table.

"Good evening Ms Roslin," he said, a smile on his lips. Somehow she always made him either smile, angry or desperate.

"Good everning Commander," Laura answered, " I wasn't sure whether you would come." Her voice was low, nearly husky, and it did things to him he didn't want to think about in public.

"Well, I can't deny Kara that fun, can I?" he asked rhetorically. 'And deny me seing you in such a dress,' Bill added mentally.

Ellen had been right in a way, the dress was spectacular, far from the pale, understatement violet one she had worn at their first meeting. This one was regal, a heavier fabric, the whole skirt decorated with golden embroidery in the shape of roses. The seam under her breasts was stitched in golden thread as well and the stays she wore no doubt under this gown did things to her cleavage that made it hard for him to keep his eyes off it. He was just a man after all.
Laura Roslin wore this dress like the lady she was in his eyes, with a poise and an elegance that overshone everyone else.

"This is quite a bit like the last ball," Bill remarked, determined not to let an awkward silence start between the two of them.

Laura tilted her head.

"Is it?"

"Well, it is a ball, it is at Lord Adar's house, we are both here, there is punch..." the man stopped himself before he could start to ramble even more.

She hummed in agreement.

"All arguments in your favour, Commander. Are you going to ask me to dance again?" Laura suddenly asked with a glint in her eyes.

"Would you like to?"

"I would."

Random Regency Fact: The dress is inspired by a portrait of Hortense Bonaparte.

I hope you enjoyed this, as always, let me know what you think and stay safe!