[ Well excuse you, rude stranger, is what some posture-bridling communicates, a furrow deepening in Gaius' brow. And then the confusion sets in, and when you're a genius and you don't know something, wariness is the only valid response.

He is silent and staring for a few moments. ]

I'm sorry.

[ He thinks. ]

We met back during the breach. I don't think we've met otherwise, and-- I don't actually understand any of what you're saying. Is this about a Cylon detector?

[ He says that like he only heard of it, fleetingly, haphazard in his attempt to put puzzle pieces together to form sense. ]