How these two meet
The first friction is quiet and it is not an argument. It happens the third or fourth time Gemini changes position mid-sentence, and Aquarius, who had filed the earlier position, has to decide whether to say so.
Usually they do not say so. They move Gemini down a category instead, quietly, from person whose thinking counts to person who is thinking out loud. Gemini feels the reclassification without ever being able to point at it.
Mercury turns retrograde 315 times a century, about three times a year, and spends nearly a fifth of its life going back over ground it has already crossed. Saturn takes 29.43 years to cross the twelve signs and does not revisit. One of these is a mind that arrives at things by moving. The other arrives once and then defends the arrival.
What you get for it is rare and neither of you should be casual about it: nobody in this house needs the other one to be warm about an idea. You can both hold a thing at arm’s length and turn it over without anyone deciding the turning over was an attack. Almost no one else you know can do that with either of you.
For Gemini, the work is finishing one thought before opening the next, especially when the next one is better.
For Aquarius, the work is saying out loud that a position has been abandoned, rather than letting it quietly stop coming up.
The question
Who changed their mind last, and did either of you say so?
One conscious action
one changed mind, named
This week, whichever of you moves on something, say it directly: I thought that, I do not now, here is what moved.
It sounds procedural. It is also the only way either of you finds out that the other one is still listening.
Mercury goes back over its own ground three times a year and Saturn has not gone back over anything in decades. Neither of those is thinking badly.
There is a version of this house where the fast one is trusted and the slow one is interrogated, and you have each lived somewhere it ran the other way.