Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my words.
On reflection, it probably was a bad idea from the first drink.
"I think you're a little drunk," Bill says, his rumbling voice a little amused.
"No more than you," Laura says, manging to fight the urge to giggle. At least mostly. Truth is, she is pretty sure she is drunk, but then, so is he.
The President and the Admiral, getting vaguely drunk in his quarters on Galactica when they're really meant to be debating water supplies in the Fleet. It would be quite the scandal, especially if worded by the Vice President.
But then, he is not here. She is. And she's been having the sort of week where she could use a drink with a good friend.
It just didn't stop at one.
"I've had five," she says. "You've had five."
"You've had six," he corrects.
"Five," she insists. "First I had two, then I had four of this... Oh."
"Two and four makes six," he points out.
"Thank you, math genius," she says, and the smile that seems to crack his face is one of those rare sights she's really come to appreciate. "Some might call this influencing the executive branch."
"Some might call this obeying orders," he says. "Or were your words not 'get me a frakking drink, Admiral'?"
She smiles. "I thought you didn't like taking orders from a school teacher."
"I didn't," he says seriously. "I don't. You've become a very good president, Madam President."
Compliments from William Adama are a rare thing, she knows, and thus sincere.
"Don't let it go to your head," he continues, downing the last bit of his drink. "I don't like politicians."
She laughs. "I'll try not to take that personally."
"Don't," he says simply, and meets her gaze. The silence between them seems to speak a little too loudly and she is reminded of other silences between them, always leaving the same thing unsaid.
Bill and Laura, wanting to add up. Just wanting, and she isn't sure exactly when it started or who wanted it first. She does know it's mutual, does know it's been building for a while.
To what, she doesn't know yet.
"I should go," she says, standing up abruptly and feeling almost sober. (Maybe she never was anywhere near drunk. Easier to blame silliness on alcohol, and much harder to blame the heart.)
"You don't have to," he says, rising as well. "You're always welcome in..."
"One of your beds," she finishes, remembering a conversation not that long ago.
His bed. His hands, mapping her skin. His lips, brushing against hers. The drinks he's had mixing with the ones she's had. One night of having just what she wants with William Adama, who looks at her as if he could never get enough.
She closes his eyes when she kisses him briefly, tiptoeing to reach across the table. It's an uncomfortable position for her body, and she pulls away after a few seconds.
"Laura?" he asks, and she knows if she says 'yes', she will end up in his bed very soon. She wants to, oh she wants to. But...
She holds up her hand and he stays where he is, watching her intently.
"The President and the Admiral," she says, tasting the words in her mouth.
"Laura and Bill," he counters, the way he says her name sounding strangely gentle.
"That too," she agrees, pressing her hand against his chest. "But right now..."
"You need to be the President and I need to be the Admiral," he finishes and she nods, taking a step away.
"I mixed personal life and professional life once," she tells him. "It didn't combine very well in the end."
If he realises she's referring to Adar, Bill doesn't show it. He just nods. She doesn't add that she rather not have that end with him, that she would like something to come out of it.
"Thanks for the drinks, Bill," she says.
She holds his gaze for a moment longer before turning to leave, feeling his eyes at him all the way.
At the door, she turns to look at him, his eyes dark with something that makes her feel warm.
"Laura... It might add up one day," he says.
It might indeed, she thinks.
A week later, she learns she has cancer again.
It will change the whole calculation.