Roslin and Adama steal a few feet away, Laura gratefully telling him, "That was lovely." Adama makes the point that the crew wanted to do it for her. "None of this would have been possible if you hadn't trusted the Cylon," she points out. I don't think either of them really gets the entire point, there. Adama: "I took your advice, met on common ground." Roslin cocks her head at him: "What was that?" Gun to the head. "We both wanted to live." Jackass. That's the one thing you'll always have in common.
Tyrol watches the crowd, and then goes to Boomer's cell. I'm pleased by this. She's so pretty but somehow especially pretty tonight, even though she's wearing sweats. It's weirdly very much like the outfit of the fake Number Six that talked all different and pretended to be a figment in Gaius's head. In that very cell, actually. I guess everybody looks the same in sweats, except if you're on Galactica it's understood that you look like everybody else, only one hundred times hotter. Tyrol and Boomer stare at each other and she picks up the phone, staring at him. He thinks, and finally picks up the phone. She stares at him and he puts it to his ear. She smiles a tiny smile.
Next week's the finale, and that hardcore Maquis lady is going to show up and the number of people in the Fleet is going to change drastically and I think everything is going to change drastically, so grab your gun and bring in the cat, because this one's big. Boom boom boom.