longlivelaura asked what happened when the Tighs found Adama & Roslin, and since she hasn't said that she no longer needs distraction:
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If Ellen hadn't stumbled, they might've had a chance to see something, As is they found Bill and Roslin's faces a little too close, her hand a little too low on his belly, his a little too high above her waist. The air smelled of weed and rotgut and -- a breeze pushed away other lingering smells.
"We were just talking," Roslin tried.
"Then you won't mind if we join you," Ellen said, her eyes traveling over Bill's unbuttoned jacket.
"We're discussing the work of Sean Ellison."
"Even I know Ellison. He wrote pure smut," Tigh protested.
Roslin just smiled.