River sits on the catwalk, chin in hand. It's relatively early in the morning, about half-seven. The Shepard is awake though, as is his custom, and in prayer or deep thought. Sometimes she can hardly tell the difference. His thoughts are quiet and slow, like an old tree in a forest. Ponderous and distant enough to be ignored. The Captain is still asleep, close enough to waking to be barely dreaming and thus no bother at all, as Kaylee might say.

She sits and she waits, and sure enough the grinding of the cargo-bay door precedes the arrival of Zoe and Wash. They're often early birds, and this morning they make her think of the dawn, almost reborn in each other's presence. They embrace as the door shuts behind them and River feels no shame in her unknown intrusion on this very private moment – it's serene and beautiful and it fills her with a sense of their calm. Their love is often fierce, sometimes jealous, and always passionate. Sometimes the intensity scares her; she worries she might become overfull with it and lose the part of her that is River – but not this morning. For once she almost feels gratitude to the people that cut up her brain and left her like an empty glass

Wash's lips linger on his wife's, and neither of them can stop smiling. “I should go check the bridge, make sure the engineers haven't messed up the flight systems,” he whispers, between kisses.

“Mmm,” Zoe says, “I feel like breakfast.”

“Save some for me.”

“Always.”

He kisses her deeply, one final time, fingers of his left hand light on the back of her neck. “I love you,” he says and River can feel it, in the pit of her stomach, in the tingle of her limbs and her own mouth turns up in a smile she can't hide.

“You too, baby,” Zoe replies and only River can see the truth of her statement.

Zoe watches her husband out of sight, still with a soft smile

The door crunches again and the smile is gone as Zoe turns, replaced by one subtly different, perhaps a change only River can see. She's got her armour on again as Jayne