Disclaimer: Obviously not mine.

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Zoe was cold. She no longer had her old blanket, because it smelled like Wash and that was unbearable. So it made sense that she was cold. A lot of things made sense lately. Zoe had always been one for quick, simple solutions and solid facts: things that made sense. But it had gotten to be more than that. When Wash got a giant stake in the gut, sense went out in the splinters that tore his dying flesh. So now, sense was a precious thing, to be coveted. Things like that didn’t happen when everything made sense.

It didn’t occur to her that she was getting better. Not one to wallow in her grief (at least not outwardly), Zoe didn’t really pay attention to her emotions. She knew it hurt, like nothing had ever hurt before. She knew she would always have to deal with that pain. So the thought that it may ease over time did not cross her mind. She wasn’t interested in making the pain stop. She was interested in making sure it didn’t start again.

Therefore, she threw all her energy into preparing to rescue River, who in all probability did not need rescuing. However, Mal would go, and if Mal went alone, he would get badly hurt. And that, naturally, would start a whole new wave of pain. Zoe, who felt that she had quite enough pain for the moment, thank you, was ready to do anything to keep that from happening. She was too loyal, after all, to consider the fact that it might be better for all if she just tried to keep Mal from going at all.

But the truth was, she was getting better.

And that was good.

* * * * *

River was almost there. She was on Persephone, her hair caught up and hidden in a black and red cap. Her pale face was smudged with shadows and shiny colors, makeup taken from a small shop run by a woman who was sleeping now, behind the broken glass of her display cabinet. Disguise, it was. Beautiful rainbows, like swashes of coins on a flat stone. Not the same. Big brown eyes ringed by unfamiliar kohl, lips painted brilliant red