Chapter 11
(Adama's POV)

I'm alone in my quarters, still trying to figure out what the frak are we supposed to be doing about this whole situation with Kara and deeply relieved by the fact that at least in here I don't have to be 'The Admiral', that in the privacy of my own quarters no-one expects me to have all the answers, when all of a sudden I am interrupted by someone banging on the hatch... repeatedly.

That is not exactly an every day occurrence. I know that if there were some sort of crisis I would have received a call and that only a handful of people would be knocking on my quarters in the middle of the night wanting to talk to me... and none of those would be doing it with this kind of insistence, not under normal circumstances.

Rather annoyed --and more than a little worried-- I open the hatch and I am not particularly surprised to find a very drunk Saul Tigh sort of standing on the other side.

This is not something I want to deal with, not now --not to mention that if he is here then that means that word has already spread and that is not going to help matters-- but unfortunately it looks like I won't have much of a choice... on either count.

Sure, I know my people and I know my ship. They are, for the most part, a fairly tight-knit bunch and in spite of everything that has happened Kara is still an important part of the Galactica's 'family' --to say nothing of the fact that a lot of people actually owe her their lives-- so I knew all along that there was no way we could expect to keep this quiet in the long run but I had hoped that we would at least have a couple of days, especially because Cottle is not going to be happy if he finds himself having to play guard dog to his patient on top of everything else. Unfortunately it looks like the cat is out of the bag now and we are going to have no choice but to deal with the fallout.

"What do you want, Saul?" I ask, really not in the mood for this and knowing all too well how nasty Saul can get when he is this drunk.

"I thought maybe you'd want someone to celebrate with. After all, this calls for a toast or two," he taunts me.

"There's nothing to celebrate and you know it," I growl, knowing better than to give in to his provocation.

"Oh, but I thought you wanted that cancer out of your ship, isn't that what you said, Bill?" he sneers at me even as I struggle to rein in my temper. The problem is that as much as I want to tell him to shut the hell up, the fact remains that he is only throwing my words back at me.

"I would suggest that you stop that... now," I warn him.

"Or what? You'll kick me out of my chair? Hell, I'm not even sitting down here," he says, laughing at his own 'joke'.

"You are drunk."

"So?"

"So you may want to shut up before you make me do something I'll regret."

"Like you did in that rec room? You were in fine form, weren't you?"

"That's not what this is about and you know it!"

"Isn't it? The high and mighty Bill Adama."

"Watch it, Saul," I growl.

"What? You don't like the truth?"

"This has nothing to do with the truth. You may be my friend but that will only get you so far," I warn him again, even though I know it's not going to do me much good, not with him being as drunk as he is.

"So you are going to make it two out of two for the day, your 'daughter' and your 'best friend', is that it?"

"Don't threaten me. You are responsible for your own actions."

"So this whole thing was her fault and she had it coming, is that what you are saying?"

"No, but..."

"You are not the only one who cares about her!" he interrupts me and something in that statement shocks me because in the end that is what this whole thing boils down to, that's why he is here.

"You are worried," I say, shaking my head and still having a hard time trying to wrap my mind around that particular concept, especially after years of having to mediate what seemed to be a never-ending war between the two of them.

"I went down to sickbay when I heard about it. Cottle wouldn't even let me see her. Told me to get the hell out of his sickbay, to go sleep the ambrosia off somewhere else," he mutters.

"She needs her rest and he is trying to keep her visitors down to a minimum."

"And I'm just a drunk, is that it?"

"No... maybe... part of it. You are going to be of no use to her in your current condition and you know it," I point out.

"I want to see her," he insists.

"Then get your act together because there's no way in hell Cottle is going to let you anywhere near her until you do and neither will I," I warn him.

"You are one piece of work, aren't you? I wasn't the one who landed her on that frakking bed in the first place, damn it!"

"No, you weren't but I am the one who is going to make sure she gets out of it alive and if that means keeping you away from her, so be it. Believe me, Saul, I don't need you to remind me of how badly I screwed up here, but I won't compound that mistake by letting you goad me into endangering her any further."

"So you are going to protect her from me now?" he laughs.

"If that's what it takes."

"You are going to lose her," he warns me.

"She is going to be fine," I say, not willing to consider any other outcome.

"Is she? How the frak do you know? You weren't there, you don't have a frakking clue as to what it was like to be trapped down on that gods-forsaken rock!" he insists.

"So why don't you tell me?" I challenge, knowing that I have to tread carefully here.

"It was hell, Bill... and you don't just shrug and walk out of hell."