Six is laughing, trailing her fingertips across Lee's chest. "He's angry most of the time, this one. Furious. And uncertain. And he just pushes it down, and down, and down." She gives a sudden pleased smile. "One day he'll snap. He'll supernova. Explode and destroy something - maybe a ship, maybe something worse - and then turn cold."
(Tick. Tick. Helplessly, the scientist part of him is counting down.)
He sits with Sharon and hands her blueprints and sneaks glances at her stomach.
Six leans down and kisses Sharon's temple. "She's going to be the end of everything," she says, and her face is ambiguous; bright and hollow, sunrise over rubbled streets.
(He thinks: another timebomb.)
He chats to Petty Officer Dualla, who blushes a little when he says the name Apollo.
"She's a manipulator," Six says. "She knows exactly how pretty she is, and exactly how to play people."
Gaius feels sick. "Please stop," he says.
"Come on, Gaius." Every time she smiles she looks so achingly, terribly human. "You've never tried to see the good in people. You're a cynic. A realist. I've always loved that about you."
Three hours later he's in a conference about research priorities, smiling harmlessly while Adama and Roslin throw their rehearsed disdain and their patronising words in his face.
Six waits until he's halfway out of the hatch to slip her arm around his neck. "She's only sleeping with him to ensure her own security, you know."
He chokes; he trips.
She catches him.
He starts to say something - anything - but her lips are firm and hungry, swallowing the sound, drinking it all down.