I want you to know what I like.
"I like it so much, I don't want it to be over. So I'm saving it." Nobody's going anywhere.
Laura blithely suggests she should wait, too. For that day in the alluvial deposits, maybe; she can wait as long as he can, so it won't be over. So she won't be the one to bring him to the next ending, the story that he loves so much. One look from his beautiful eyes, the way this careless wish astounds him and breaks his heart, and she's ashamed. He was offering to share something precious, and she offered to share its absence, and rubbed her death in his face. He likes it so much he's saving it, for her. To build something secret and precious between them, to remember every year. She keeps fucking it up. He keeps bringing her so much strength, so much hope, that she forgets who and what she is, where she's going, what it's costing him. His love is glory, and her illness is pain. And when she ricochets between the two, her hair isn't being plucked one strand at a time, but all at once. She apologizes without apologizing, ducks her head, fidgets with her bag. Which he takes from her, and carries. Which she lets him do.
In the corridor, they discuss Gaius. "Baltar's back at home ... in the brig. Again," Bill grumbles, and Laura shakes her head. "Desecration of a temple. It's his revenge for what happened to him this morning." Bill acknowledges the brutality; he's tracking the Sons, but nobody's talking. Laura's hand is warm and weak on his arm, as they walk. "The thing is that Baltar knows that there are religious hardliners in Dogsville, but he continues to provoke." (This is kinda cool, watch: He just said it's a problem, and she said it's Gaius being a shitstirrer.) Bill shakes his head: "I just can't have a religious war in this Fleet." Not after what his family went through last time. Laura almost laughs: "Oh please, no! Then the whole damn thing will become our frakkin' responsibility, yours and mine. Seriously, Bill, we have thirty thousand people left and they're not happy unless they're kicking each other's teeth in. This is what we've become?" Bill shakes his head -- she just said it's a problem, but he's about to say it's because Gaius is a shitstirrer -- "No, it's him. Baltar has an uncanny way of stirring up all the crap." And I mean, thank God or the Lords of Kobol for that, at least. Just because nobody's stirring the shit doesn't mean the shit doesn't exist.
As they head into their quarters, Bill muses whether Gaius would be willing to stay in lockdown indefinitely, "for his own safety," and Laura laughs. "And make a martyr out of him? No way. Those girly, groupie, sex-whatever-they-are, they already think he's a God." So then, kick him off Galactica? No other ship will have him. "No, I want him close," says Laura. Thank God or the Lords for finally bringing Laura back to us. She's still doing the same shit, but it makes so much sense this week. I never stopped loving her, but I missed liking her. She makes more sense than anybody but her rapidly decaying Chief of Staff this week, as it's meant to be. Nobody makes more sense than Laura Roslin. She thinks a bit, there in their home at the end of the world, and cocks her head. "I'm going to the brig." Bill can't believe she really wants to see him, but Laura cocks her head cutely: "I want him to see me."