Drop The Pilot
Tough put on her shoes and the most unbelievably awesome hoodie while delivering the rest of the awesome speech: "...And then she shot Adama... But not very accurately, since she loved him. And then Leoben? He got obsessed with Kara Thrace, and then was captured! And airlocked! And my sister Six utterly failed to discredit Baltar and his dreamy hair --" Cavil laughed along, as though even a robot wouldn't have to admit Gaius was one salty morsel back in the day, and she continued, "-- And destroyed our frakking cover in the process. And now Simon..."
She's disgusted now, really upset and angry at this one: "Simon killed himself, really killed himself, out of Resurrection range, without blowing up the ship that he lived on, because he couldn't imagine life without his little human wife and his little human daughter, because he loves..." They were both too drunk to stop. He begged her to stop. She finally nodded, and he nearly wept. "Why are they letting you down, One? What's the x-factor?" Murky waters; inky islets and aching archipelagos. She straddled him, but only to get to the door, leaving the room with bottle in hand; the answer was staring them in the face but they were both too warped now to see it: "Can't declare war on love," she hissed, and he didn't even notice she was gone. "I think I already did."
Saul ordered Giana to a briefing room to question her; Galen came along in case he got shitty, which he does in about three seconds. "Some of the electronics involved in overriding airlock security are pretty sophisticated," Saul began, and at the Chief's insistence reminded himself it wasn't an interrogation. "Do you think he was a Cylon because he killed himself?" Giana, in shock, honestly wanted to know. "We could use more Cylons like that, huh?" Dark, even for Galen. At least in those days.
Giana told him to cram it, and Saul reminded her that he never mentioned that word. "Good," she said, nearly angry now. "Sir, I don't know how he knew how to rig an airlock, but he was a smart man. He learned it somewhere." She knew it wasn't murder, because he left a note. She produced it, and Saul's eyes blinked a little faster in reading it. "Love outlasts death." His shame kept him from meeting her eyes again, and he dismissed them. "May I have that back," she gulps, weeping, and when she leaves that room her heart is broken.