Dinner for Six

(aka, Tigh Food)

Laura Roslin, soon to be Laura Roslin-Adama (because she just doesn't believe in assuming a completely new name at her age), looks around her Cabin-on-the-Lake. Normally, she would think herself lucky. She's lived through a Cylon invasion—twice. She's beaten cancer—twice. But tonight? Tonight just might be pushing her luck too far. As she carefully sets the dessert fork at the top of Bill's place setting, she wonders: Can I survive another dinner with Saul Tigh and his wife?

She has her doubts.

Laura shudders as she remembers the last time Saul brought his significant other to dinner. Somehow, she is suddenly relieved that Six is only a Cylon. Better a Cylon than Ellen Tigh.

To be fair, Ellen did try to be a good wife on New Caprica. And she was. She just let that good wife thing get in the way of being a good Colonial citizen. Laura sighs heavily as she wonders what she would have done if she and Bill had been in the same situation. Bill resigned his commission for her, risked a lone death in a cold universe. Would she have betrayed humanity to save Bill like Ellen did for Saul?

The sigh brings Bill's attention to the dining table where Laura is rearranging the bouquet of wild flowers serving as the centerpiece. He stirs the spaghetti sauce one more time before walking to the dining table. Laura is surprised when she feels his muscled arms slip around her waist.

"I'm going to get you a bell," she mumbles as Bill pulls her closer to him. "You're entirely too light-footed without those combat boots."

"I thought you liked a light touch," he whispers as he barely runs his lips along her neck.

"Mmmm…I do," she says, leaning her head to bare more neck to him. "But I like those combat boots, too. They come in handy sometimes…."

"You just like it when we play Admiral and President," Bill laughs, nipping her earlobe. His hands begin a low descent as he says, "If I had known, we wouldn't have wasted all those years when we were the Admiral and President…."

Laura laughs as she half-heartedly tries to extract herself from his grip. "We've got company coming," she reminds him.

The last thing she wants Tigh and Six to walk in on is Bill frakking her on the table. It would definitely make for awkward dinner conversation.

Bill's hands stop their exploration, and he slowly spins Laura around to face him. He takes his hands in hers, gently squeezing before saying, "Want to tell me what the sigh was for?"

"Nothing."

Bill responds with a barely-there smile and stares at her.

Laura resists the urge to squirm. Finally, she says, "Everything."

He brings one of his hands up to cup her face. "Tell me?" he asks patiently.

Laura pauses before responding. "I just can't help but think about the last time we had Saul and his wife over for dinner."

"On Galactica."

Laura nods. "So much has changed since then. Could we have ever guessed Saul would be a Cylon? That he'd kill Ellen for betraying the Resistance?"

"Or that he'd knock up the sexiest Cylon in the bunch?" Bill shakes his head. "The man always had a thing for blondes."

"Bill Adama!" Laura realizes this is Bill's way of dissipating her ghosts and bringing her back to their much happier present. For his sake, she lets him. "How do you expect me to sit through dinner with Six knowing you think she's sexy?"

"Well, isn't that better than sitting here with morose thoughts about Saul and Ellen Tigh? Besides, you know I have a thing for red heads."

Bill leans in for a lingering kiss and entwines his hands in Laura's chin-length hair. He can tell a small part of Laura's mind is still somewhere on New Caprica by the slight tension in her body. Now it's his turn to sigh.

"Laura, this is supposed to be a celebration of Saul and Six. And a demonstration to them and the rest of the colony that they and their baby are accepted. We might not be the Admiral and the President anymore, but we both know our thoughts still matter. Besides," Bill says with a grin, "Saul says Six wants parenting advice."

This surprises Laura. "Parenting advice? From whom?"

"From us."

"Us? Bill, last time I looked, you're the only one here with kids, and your track record isn't that great. I mean, things with Lee are good now, but…."

"Laura, you wound me!" Bill exclaims dramatically, bringing his hand to his heart. "Besides, you have parenting experience. You've had a hand at raising hundreds of kids."

"Not raising, Bill. Teaching. There's a difference."

"I don't think so."

"Well, that's because—"

Laura is interrupted by a knock on the door. Bill gives Laura a wide grin and a wink before opening the door.

"Saul, Six, come in" he says enthusiastically. "Six," he continues as he ushers them into the living room, "Don't you look lovely tonight." He looks at Laura and grins mischievously. "Laura, doesn't Six look beautiful this evening?"

Bill knows he's going to pay for that remark, but Laura's form of punishment is…well…desirable. Laura, for her part, watches the Cylon waddle into her living room. She has to admit Six emanates a certain glow. Her smile is real as she says, "Bill's right, Six. You do look beautiful tonight."

"Really?" Six asks in a small voice that emanates both wonder and insecurity. "My body is changing in ways that don't make me feel beautiful."

Watching Bill and Saul work to lower a very pregnant Six onto the leather sofa, Laura suddenly realizes how frightening Six's pregnancy must be for her. The only other Cylon who can advise her lives half-way around the planet.

"Caprica, I'm sure they don't want to hear about that," Saul admonishes.

"Caprica?" Laura asks as she and Bill exchange looks.

Six nods. "Yes," she says, "I've decided to start using my name. 'Caprica' is what my brothers and sisters called me. I was given an individual name because of my role...." Caprica becomes silent. "If you think it's disrespectful…."

Bill and Laura look at each other again before Laura replies.

"No. I think it is lovely. A reminder of a past we shouldn't forget and a future we won't want to." Laura pauses. "Caprica," she says, as if trying it out. "You look very lovely tonight, Caprica. Welcome to our home."

Caprica and Saul beam.

***

The meal is heavy, but conversation is not.

"I've been reading baby books, and it seems we need to prepare a nursery," Caprica says.

"A nursery! I can help you with that. What's your theme?" Laura asks excitedly.

Bill and Saul exchange the traditional look of man misery—they both know they're going to be bored stiff by the conversation but neither dares to interrupt their women while there's talk of nurseries and baby things.

"Theme? I don't know what this means."

Bill enjoys watching Laura in teacher mode, and tonight is no exception.

"A nursery theme is usually representative of the personality you want to share with your baby. In a way, it's the first way you have of expressing to your baby who you are, what's important to you," Laura explains.

"I understand. So my nursery theme should be Saul."

Both Bill and Laura laugh as they watch Tigh blush furiously.

"Caprica…" Saul begins, but Laura cuts him off, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, Caprica. I didn't explain that very well. I should have said what's important to you and Saul. As parents. Basically, a nursery is the environment your child will grow in. He or she will sleep in there, and play in there. You want it to be peaceful, happy, and stimulating."

"Peaceful, happy, and stimulating," Caprica repeats. "All at the same time?"

Bill decides to help. "Some people choose ducks."

Both Laura and Caprica stare at him as if he'd sprouted a third eye and handed it to Tigh. Saul bursts out laughing.

"Hey, I was only trying to help," Bill grumbles.

"Never mind him, Caprica," Laura says good-naturedly. "There are a couple of baby stores we can visit. I'll help you set up the nursery. It will be fun."

"Thank you, Laura. I would be honored," Caprica says very seriously and humbly.

***

After dinner, the couples retire to the living room. Before she sits, Caprica grabs Saul's hand and places it on her stomach. Bill is touched to see his old friend's face light up. He can tell Saul is happier than he's ever seen him as his child kicks beneath his hand. Bill looks up to find Laura watching him watch Tigh. She gives him a smile of pure love.

"Bill, this is the damnedest thing," Saul says, smiling while holding his hand in place on Caprica's belly. "You've got to feel this kid kick."

Bill walks over to Caprica. "May I?"

Caprica nods, and Bill replaces Saul's hand with his. Suddenly, Bill smiles too. It's one of his large smiles, and, although Laura wouldn't have thought it possible, she loves Bill Adama just a bit more at this moment.

"Damn, Saul. This kid's gonna be a football player. Laura, honey, come over here. You've got to feel this." Bill's excitement is contagious, and Laura can't help but smile.

Laura looks at Caprica, who nods, and then places her hand besides Bill's. Bill, in turn, moves her hand over to the spot his just occupied and then covers her hand with his own.

The baby kicks again, and Bill whispers close to Laura's ear, "Do you feel that?"

"I do," Laura whispers back.

Although it is their hands touching her, Caprica can't help but feel she's a third party to their intimate moment.

Bill and Laura share a smile before pulling their hands away. The four sit.

"Gods," Bill says, shaking his head. "I had forgotten…this is such a special time for you both. I remember when Carolanne was pregnant with Lee. Every day was a new wonder."

"Babies are a gift," Caprica claims.

"Babies, sure," says Saul. "But then they grow up. Huh, Bill?"

"You got that right, Saul. I can't begin to tell you the trouble the boys got into when they were young."

"I remember when Bill used to come back from leave," Saul says. "It would take him a week to calm down because he'd be so pissed at something stupid the boys had done. Sawing down the neighbor's tree, flushing all the toilets in the school at once. Oh! Remember when Lee was a teenager, and he got caught putting food coloring and bubble bath in the fountains in the square in Caprica City? Now correct me if I'm wrong, but technically isn't he still grounded?"

"Well, it seems like harmless stuff now," Bill grouses.

"Harmless now, but back in the day you weren't too pleased," Saul retorts.

"I like to think I've mellowed in my old age," Bill says, smiling at Laura and Caprica.

"I'd like to think so, too," Saul continues, "Because I remember the maddest I ever saw you. Remember? When you came back to the ship right after that fight with Zak's kindergarten teacher? Gods, I thought you were personally gonna nuke the woman's house. You were furious and kept talking about 'that frakkin' schoolteacher' for weeks!"

"Bill," Laura says sweetly, "Were you mean to Zak's kindergarten teacher?"

Bill shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Three sets of eyes are on him.

"I'm not sure how he was, but I can tell you I've never seen him so mad," Saul laughs. He sobers a bit as he glances at Laura, remembering some of the hellacious fights he's witnessed between her and Bill over the years. "Well, excepting the time he threw you in the brig. I'd call that about even."

"Well, I think we'd better hear this story then, don't you?" Laura says in the pseudo-sweet tone Bill has mentally labeled as This-Better-Be-Good-Or-I'll-Have-Your-Ass.

Bill takes a deep breath. This isn't something he ever wanted to bring up to her. He has no choice, though, so he begins the story.

***

Bill enters the kindergarten classroom in uniform. It's early, and the kids haven't arrived yet. He's not happy to have come home last Friday on a weekend pass only to be met by a "personal and confidential" note from Zak's kindergarten teacher requesting a solo meeting with him. And now he isn't pleased to be held up from returning to Atlantia by "that self-important school teacher" (as Carolanne dubbed her) who, for some reason, apparently thinks she can't speak to his wife.

He introduces himself to the teacher, who begins talking about the kindergarten curriculum. He smiles politely and nods occasionally during the explanation. He sees no need for the lesson and begins to feel the meeting is a waste of time until the teacher asks a question.

"Major Adama, are you aware Zak idolizes you?"

"Is that a crime, Ms. Rothlen? For a boy to respect his father?"

"Not if his father has done something to respect, Major."

Bills is taken aback by the statement. He's somewhat angered, but constrains his emotion. "Just what are you insinuating?" he asks.

The teacher is not constrained.

"I'm not insinuating anything, Major. I'm telling you that Zak needs a full-time father, not an absent Viper pilot dad who thinks swooping in and sharing flying stories for 3 days is enough parenting on his part."

Bill is shocked by the teacher's harsh words and has a hard time controlling his temper. Calling on his military discipline, he is calm but firm as he says, "I don't know what your game is, but you might want to reconsider what you just said. I'm a good father."

"That may be true, Major Adama, but when would Zak know that? When are you physically in his life to prove it to him? It's enough that he has to deal with—" the teacher cuts herself off.

"Deal with what?" Bill demands.

"Nothing. It's not my place to pry into your home life. My only concern is Zak's welfare."

Bill can tell the teacher is holding back. If there's anything he can't stand, it's someone who's not up front about things. "If you've got something to say, say it," he says.

"How much do you know about your wife, Major?"

"What?" Bill asks, suddenly concerned where this conversation might be headed.

"When you're gone, how confident are you that your wife takes good care of Zak?"

"Very confident," Bill states matter-of-factly. "Why?"

"Are you sure about that?"

"My wife takes good care of both my boys, Miss Rothlen." Bill's now beginning to lose the battle with his temper. "Why don't you just cut to the chase and tell me why you're asking such a question?"

"It's just that Zak started the school year strong, but as the year's progressed I've begun to see things I normally see in abused children. Poor grades, sleeping in class, acting out. I realize your relationship with your wife is strained, but—"

"What the hell do you know about my relationship with my wife? And what business is it of yours?" Bill glares hostilely at the young teacher, but she stands her ground.

"I only know what Mrs. Adama has told me," the teacher explains calmly. " And it's my business because I believe it's affecting Zak's poor performance. I believe there's something going on in your home, Major. Something beyond a rocky marriage. Something you're not there to witness."

"What proof do you have, Miss Rothlen?" Bill demands.

"I have no proof, Major. Just a teacher's intuition based on some circumstantial happenings. Zak's chronic tardiness and sleeping in class. His big brother—Lee, is it?—being overprotective. An occasional bruised arm. Something's not right in your home. That's why I asked to meet with you today, alone, instead of with Mrs. Adama. I'm concerned about Zak. And for that matter, your other son, too."

"Teacher's intuition," Bill mumbles, shaking his head. Looking directly at the teacher, he stubbornly states, "I don't have time for this. If you have no proof, then I'm finished with your speculation on the happenings in my household. I believe we're done here."

Bill turns his back on the teacher and heads towards the classroom door.

"Major Adama," the teacher calls after him, "If we can't improve Zak's performance, he's going to fail kindergarten. He'll be kept back and won't progress with his class. I'm trying to avoid that."

Bill turns sharply on his heel and walks within inches of Zak's teacher. They're now face-to-face as if in a standoff.

Mustering that military discipline again, Bill clips, "Miss Rothlen, in the military, when a soldier performs poorly, we look to his commanding officer. Who do you look to when a student of yours fails? Because it sounds like you're making excuses for your poor performance, not Zak's."

The teacher's response comes in the same clipped tones: "Major Adama, in the educational system, when a student performs poorly, we look to correct the reason, not to place blame. I believe the reason for Zak's performance issues lies in his home life. In your absence. And in your wife's possible abuse."

Bill's uncertain when anyone has ever spoken so bluntly to him. He doesn't like it. He takes a step closer to the teacher and speaks directly in her face, as if he were addressing an errant cadet. "Look, lady, I've about had enough here. My son is not flunking kindergarten. He is not being held back. Do you know what that would look like if he applies to the Academy? So whatever it takes to ensure he passes, you do it. Is that clear?"

Zak's teacher takes a step closer to Bill. She is nearly his height, so they are now almost nose to nose. He sees the fury in her eyes, and his initial instinct is to take a step back. He resists.

"Does that include contacting your commanding officer and asking you be assigned planet-side, Major?" the teacher asks, her rage within control, but obvious. "Because I believe that's what it's going to take for you to pay attention to your son. For you to know that your son, for whatever reason, isn't emotionally, mentally, or scholastically at the point he should be."

The tension in the room increases dramatically with the teacher's threat. For a moment, all that exists in the universe is a military major and a kindergarten teacher at odds with each other. For the first time during their conversation, Bill really looks at the teacher. He hates her, but he can't help noticing she's very pretty, with her red hair framing her face. He's so close. He could just lean in slightly and….

Bill wonders where those thoughts came from and shakes his head as if to clear it. He breathes deeply—he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding his breath. For some reason, he's angrier than before. He takes a few steps back.

"I know my son, Miss Rothlen. And I disagree with your assessment. It's obvious you're one of those anti-military, whacked out liberal nut-jobs, spouting about teacher's intuition. Well you can shove your teacher's intuition up your ass. Zak is fine, my family is fine, and my commission had better damn well be fine. Just stop making excuses for not doing your job and teach my kid. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to return to my ship."

He turns his back on the teacher for a second time.

"This conference was scheduled for a full hour, Major. Can't you even devote one hour of your time to your son? Can't you even pay attention to Zak's needs for one hour?"

The teacher's condescending tone infuriates Bill, and he steps towards her again. This time, he drops all pretense of being civilized, of being a disciplined military man.

"I'm going to say this one more time," he begins angrily. "I do pay attention to Zak. Your claim that I don't is ludicrous. I know everything I need to know about him, including the fact that he has a pain-in-the-ass kindergarten teacher who doesn't know when to shut the frak up."

The teacher stops pulling punches as well.

"If you know everything about Zak's life as you claim, Major, then perhaps you'd know that my name is Ms. Roslin, not Ms. Rothlen. Did you even read my note? Zak can't say my name correctly due his lisp from losing his two front teeth." Laura Roslin looks at Bill Adama and realizes he has caught the implied "mother frakker" at the end of her statement. She doesn't care.

She meets his eyes directly and continues. "You need to be more involved in your son's life. Including knowing the correct names of his teachers. Think about that while you're flying your Viper."

This time, Laura walks away, turning her back to Bill. She begins writing on the chalkboard.

Bill, not wanting to let her get the last word, steps further into the classroom. "And you think about this, Miss Roslin," he says. "Pass my son, or else."

Bill's comment is the beginning of a new round. With each retort, the pair steps closer to each other, closing the gap between them.

"Is that a threat? ' Or else.' Or else what?" Laura inquires sharply.

"Or else I'll have your job."

"I'd like to see you try."

"You don't want to fight me. I'll win," Bill says.

Zak Adama's father is stubborn and arrogant, and Laura loathes the combination.

"If you win, Zak loses. I can't have that happen. Be a man, Major," Laura says harshly. "Rein in your wife. 'Or else.'"

Bill bellies up to Laura, eyes flashing fire. Their bodies are only inches away from touching as he says, "You're really a piece of work, lady. What would you know about a man and his wife? I don't see a ring. I'm beginning to understand why it's 'Ms.' Roslin and not 'Mrs.'"

***

The room is quiet until Laura speaks. "I thought you had forgotten. Or had never pieced it together." She isn't hurt, but she isn't as animated as before.

Bill looks at Laura with an apology on his face. Saul and Caprica watch the silent conversation that takes place between their friends in the next few seconds.

I'm sorry.

Me, too.

You were right.

So were you.

I love you.

I love you back.

"So what happened?" asks Caprica.

"Zak flunked kindergarten," Bill says.

"But his father came home that summer and tutored him while he went to summer school, so he was able to continue on to first grade with his class. And, of course, enter the Academy," Laura reports.

There's a brief pause in the conversation as Bill and Laura revisit their memories. It's broken by Bill.

His voice is gruffer than usual when he says to Saul and Caprica, "That's another thing you'll learn, too. You never forget anything that has to do with your kids." He pauses, looking at Laura. "Or the woman you love."

Laura looks a bit misty-eyed as Caprica yawns.

Caprica is mortified. "I'm sorry," she begins, but is stifled by another yawn.

"Poor baby," says Saul. "She can't stay up past 2100 hours these days." He extends his hand to her and helps her up. "Come on, it's about time I got you home."

Both Bill and Laura walk their guests to the door. As Laura and Caprica iron out the details of their nursery shopping expedition, Saul takes Bill aside.

"Thank you, Bill, for tonight. It almost feels like old times. Only better."

"You're right there, old friend."

Saul glances at his wife. "I think Caprica feels better now about everything. She's really worried about not being a good parent."

"You'll both be good parents, Saul. I have no doubts about that." Bill pauses. "But if you don't mind one more piece of advice?"

"Yeah?"

"When it's time, you're gonna want to watch out for the kindergarten teacher. She's got a wicked right hook."

END