“You think this is a good idea?” Hank asked, easing the heavy bag on his shoulder.

“It’s the most sensible answer,” Zoe said, hefting the box.

“But shouldn’t we talk about this a bit more?”

She turned to look at him, hanging back. “Do you want to move in with me or not?”

“Zoe, my love, my dearest, my divine being, I’d move to the centre of a black hole if it meant being with you. I'm just …”

“Scared?”

He nodded slightly. “A bit.”

“Hank, we spend every night together in one or other of the bunks. Usually mine, since I've got a bigger bed. Then you get up and go back to your room to change before going to the bridge. Don’t you think we could improve on that?” She put the box down at her feet. “Just a bit?”

“I just … I mean, it took a long time for Simon and Kaylee to move in together, didn’t it?” His scruffy brown hair seemed worse than usual, a sure sign he’d been running his hands through it. “And it was years for Mal and Freya …”

“That’s them. This is us.” She was calm, willing to talk about this, but only for a while. “If you don’t want to move in, tell me. We can take all your stuff back right now.”

Hank bit his lip. “What do you want?” he asked.

“I want you to get your ass down that ladder.” Zoe sighed. “But you ain't ready, are you?”

“Maybe not quite yet.”

She picked up the box and headed back towards his bunk. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “He finally gets what he wants and he doesn’t want it.”

“Zoe …”

“What now?”

“I do want it.”

She turned to look at him. “Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s … it’s a big step.”

“No it ain't. It’s half a dozen small steps, down a ladder and into my bunk.”

“That’s just it,” he said. “ Your bunk. It’s always your bunk. Or worse, yours and Wash’s bunk.”

“Is that it?” She moved towards him.

He held his ground. “It’s a big thing. I’m moving in with you .”

“Hank, I've got the bigger space. You don’t think I should move all my stuff into your small room?”