Gaius has a way with words, doesn't he? "Essentially for not murdering me." She looks down, grimacing as she works. We don't bring up the moment of each other's ugliness and salvation, not now in the alien sunlight of a new day on the Basestar. It offends her sense of etiquette. "That can't have been an easy decision to make. But I love living." So does she. The conversation hops the tracks; they love living. They are two people who love life, and living, and between whom there's a space that tells a story. The space between them used to be infinitely wide, and full of hate; now she wraps her arms around his body and tends his wounds. This is a new conversation; no ceremonies are necessary. She looks into his eyes.
"I love living, and I wanted to thank you for saving my life." She's... touched. Mystified by herself, still, sometimes; she finds herself touched. Gaius Baltar is many things, the chairness of Gaius Baltar is as wide as the universe and as contradictory as it is extreme. Six knew: you love Gaius Baltar, you love all of it. You wrap yourself around the ego and the narcissism, the madness and the sanity, and the righteousness and the selfishness and the brilliance and the ability to love completely that which he is looking at. And if you accomplish this, you become more. Caprica became something the Cylons had never seen; Laura is becoming something better than she could have imagined. She takes a breathe and get it together, to force these Baltars into a Magic-Eye approximation of a chairness, and finally must sit with the effort.
So. This is a new conversation. If Gaius Baltar is a man and a person, a tree in the forest, he must be treated as such. To respect those parts of the chair that are respectable. That means honesty. Even as it turns in her hands -- Imagine, to be ashamed in front of Gaius Baltar! To feel embarrassed to tell him of your plans! Imagine, to stand before Gaius and need a moment to find the right words to say something. Honesty.
"I wouldn't... Be so grateful, if I were you. You should know that I told the Admiral that if D'Anna doesn't back down, he should blow the ship to pieces."
Tears in his eyes, Gaius whispers his confusion. Before they can continue, there are voices in the hall. "She's in here," says a Six, and conducts the First of the Five into the room.
"Madame President," says Tory formally. "Gaius." She nods. Roslin breathes, tears in her throat. "Tory...!"
"Sit down," Tory says, lightly and firmly, setting the rules, giving the orders. "I brought you your medication." Roslin is impressed; amazed, as she always is, at Tory's strength, her ingenuity, her complete dedication and loyalty. The things that are impossible, that are accomplished should Roslin need them. The two years they spent on New Caprica, in Laura/Tory Lockdown, depending on each other for everything; how the only time Tory failed her was in the last minutes of the Second Exodus, when the baby was taken away.