(Untitled)

[callsignhusker]

It's not the first time Adama's found himself in Milliways since he and Hektor spoke; it's the first time he's approached the bar.

It's a surprise, therefore, when a wooden figure appears, with a note attached (the four corners of the paper have been clipped

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[river_meimei]

River hurried out of the staff corridor a short while ago, spoke briefly with a young man with flopping dark hair, and disappeared back down the corridor with him. Adama may or may not have been here for that; he may or may not have noticed them if he was.

She reappears now, though, a slim young woman with a distracted air, and this time she's not hurrying. She casts quick glances back at the hallway as she goes, and her small face is tight.

She halts suddenly a few feet from Adama's table, staring at something on the ground. (There's nothing there but floor.) After a moment, her eyes flick to him.

[callsignhusker]

Adama's gaze is direct and steady, but not unfriendly.

[river_meimei]

River regards him in return. There's something poised about her, like an animal ready for flight at any moment, but her hand settles delicately onto the back of an empty chair.

Her mouth opens slightly; it's a few seconds before she says, "It doesn't mean what he thinks."

[callsignhusker]

"Excuse me?"

His voice is low, graveled; it's still a request for clarification, and a polite one. Bill Adama takes his time when he speaks -- never quickly, always with deliberation.

[river_meimei]

River blinks abruptly; she sways slightly in that instant, and her hand tightens on the chair.

Her eyes drop.

"There are masks," she tells the chair, just above a whisper. "Take them off and they're still glued inside."

Her chin lifts an inch. "The symptoms," she says, enunciating just a little too deliberately, "are confusion."

It's not entirely clear whether any of this is directed at him or at herself, or at the empty air.

[callsignhusker]

It isn't, no.

Adama settles for watching her to see what she'll do.

[river_meimei]

Meet his eyes, after a moment, and focus properly a second later.

Slowly, her hand slides down the wooden ladderback, and drops to her side.

[callsignhusker]

"Can I help you?" It's polite, still. Also curious.

[river_meimei]

"I adapted the roster rotation."

River's lips twitch; it's not quite a real smile.

Softer, "I'm okay."

The implication of her tone: either she isn't entirely so, or someone else isn't.

Assuming Adama's willing to make that kind of guess about her.

[callsignhusker]

Sanity is generally required to be part of a working warship. Even here. Even now.

Adama doesn't spend much time around anybody like River. He never has.

"Good," he says; it's almost a question.

[river_meimei]

River nods a little.

[callsignhusker]

She's not going anywhere.

He clasps his hands on the table. Waits.

[river_meimei]

River glances at him.

"You think we're in a circle," she says softly. "And we all say thankya. But there are tangents."

A breath; she blinks with what might be vertigo, drawing in on herself, and starts to turn away.

[callsignhusker]

Adama watches her go.

His eyes drift to the figure of Apollo, and linger.