She's known since she had woken up and been tasked with impersonating Boomer that Felix Gaeta has always watched her. He's always called her Sharon, albeit tentatively at first.
She knows that he has a scar on his lower back from falling out of a tree. She remembers the story vaguely; Boomer had been drunk at the time. Something about tangled roots. And pirates. She still giggles at the memory.
She knows that in bed, he's all about foreplay. She can recall specifically the feel of his mouth on her breasts. His hair was short and curly, it tickled her collarbone and she had run her hands through it.
He's a good kisser. Better then the Chief, who was all spur of the moment sloppy. She remembers that Gaeta knew how to take his time.
She knows that when he's drunk, he tends to put his socks on his hands and impersonate Colonel Tigh and himself with them. She knows that Boomer asked him why he did that once and he had refused to explain.
She remembers that once at a big military ceremony in Caprica City (a statue beind dedicated or some such thing), Boomer had given him quite the rubdown while he was in his dress blues. She had loved his overly disciplined stance and had been just itching to make him squirm when the utmost decorum and dignity was not only important, it was demanded. They had then whirled into the Starbright Hotel, not the snazziest joint but nice enough for what they wanted and Gaeta had tied her to the bedposts and gone down on her while she shrieked with laughter about the face Colonel Tigh had made at them during the officious preceding event.
She remembers the look on his face when she told him that she and the Chief were probably going to get married. She remembers the distance that grew and grew and grew between them. But the brief glances, the smiles, were always there.
And now, as she enters the CIC, shackles on her hands, she sees that he is the only one who sees her as remotely human. She asks him for the cable. "Here, Sharon."
She wishes, for only a moment, that she were someone else.