He comes toward her like a mountain: "Or did you deliberately try to sabotage this truce." She's offended: "No sir, of course not." Because -- and here's what's awesome about Athena -- more than anybody, more than Hera, more than Nicky, more than Laura, or Kara and Three, even more than poor fucked-up Caprica, Athena transcends the Shape of Things to Come. It's not the perfect future, it's not even the perfect near-future, she's not a person driven by visions (I mean, except for right now), she's not this Jacob ideal where everybody has tea politely like good citizens and uses their indoor voices and remembers to vote and to floss and to recycle, she's not the series finale of forgiveness and rapture: She is right fucking now.
Athena Agathon, wisdom and goodness, is a grown-ass woman making her own decisions, loving without breaking, who soldiers on with zero damned credit; who sees all around her in the Fleet the million pieces of her heart. Whose imperative is all around her. A woman who turned her coat inside-out and changed her skin for nothing more, or less, than love. She's not a hybrid, not a child of the revolution, she doesn't have collusion and synthesis written on her bones like Hera: she did that herself, because she is awesome. She's Nurture Girl, crossing hate like so much salt: created to love and be loved in return, like us all.
Athena is a grownup like you and me, not a kid without choices like Hera and Nicky, making a conscious choice. She is a person who, out of nothing but love, made the jump and stuck with it, across the salt and across the fear, sat in chains for months, took out her heart and looked at it, got commissioned, got married, made ugly choices and suffered uglier choices. She went so far she got boring, frankly, and we forgot what she is and what she means, but the truth is that she's probably the best thing going forward, the anti-Cally in at least the way that she's the ultimately adaptable. I'm embarrassed that I didn't key into this sooner, frankly, because I forgot that boring usually means excellent once you look at it right: Athena is the Shape of Things the Way They Fucking Are.
"Then you tell me why. You make me understand why you did this." Athena flashes back: the corridor, the Opera House. The unspeakable power of vision: take a dream and turn it into words, it always slides back down and away. Every word you speak changes it and destroys it, turns it into story and logos. Turns the Hybrid talk back into gibberish: "They were going to take her. The Six. She was going to take my child." And there are ways, I am sure, that this is true. But you say it out loud and it fades away like water in the desert. Adama shakes his head: "There were too many witnesses. They all said the same thing. Your daughter was lost. The Cylon merely kneeled down, was talking to her." Athena knows: that's what it looked like, but that wasn't what it was. There was more. It was a moment. It was a moment where dreams and reality collided, and the future hit the past and the present and made a Maelstrom, and for a moment the three of them stood in the middle, buffeted by gales. "I know."