He continued pacing, working scenarios out in his mind.

Rejecting this one, and then that one. The first was too bald, too harsh. The second too long and drawn out.

She was so terse, so controlled.

Even when she had lost control back when they had held she hadn’t screamed or raved.

Not like he would have had their positions been reversed.

And if she cried for him she did it in private.

She kept going on, not living precisely. But surviving.

He was amazed by her strength, her ability to keep living even with all she had lost.

He was afraid to destroy her fragile sanity.

She had tried to commit suicide. Jayne (Of all people) had pulled her from the brink.

But no one, not even the captain knew if she still hovered near it.

Or what it would take to push her over it.

Well, if River knew she wasn’t talking.

When he asked, she told him that it was his quandary to solve.

His choice to make.

“Doc?”

Simon nearly jumped out of his skin. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard anyone approach. Considering the clamor that simply walking created; he usually heard when anyone approached. He turned to face the door, awkwardly, nearly falling. Zoë stood there, face calm, one eyebrow raised leaning against the doorframe she was the last person he wanted to see just now.

He stared at her, momentarily lost for words, wondering what she could possibly be doing here. He had come to think, no one bothered him in the infirmary unless there was bleeding involved. And there was rarely any blood letting once they were in the black (though now that he thought that he suddenly recalled several incidents where bloodshed, injury and near death had resulted only AFTER they had gained the supposed safety of space.) He cleared his throat, and did his best to make his voice come out calmly “Zoë is there something I can help you with?”

He was actually proud of how even and calm his voice came out. She raised the other eyebrow saying “Captain and I were wondering if t