As Serenity soared out of the atmo of Constance into the black, Hank flexed his hands on the control yoke and said, quite conversationally, “Well, that went better than anticipated.”

“You think?” Zoe responded, her hand on the back of his seat.

“Nobody got seriously hurt.”

“Jayne got stabbed and Mal got shot.”

“Yeah, but not seriously.”

Zoe couldn’t help but smile. “You’re as bad as Kaylee,” she said, leaning down and putting her arms around his shoulders. “Always seeing things from the positive side.”

“The kind of jobs we do, I think it’s for the best. And Jayne was barely scratched, and Mal’s was only a graze.”

“You wouldn’t think so, not with the way Freya was fussing. And as for River …”

There hadn’t been a problem with the buyers, at least not this time, but trouble arrived with another crew who had decided it was easier to pick up such trifles as a cargo by stealing it. Only they hadn’t bet on the Firefly carrying someone like River.

Hank laughed. “Surprised she left anyone alive down there.”

“I don’t think she actually killed anyone,” Zoe pointed out.

“No, but she had blood on her, and it wasn’t hers.”

“Well, they hurt her husband.”

He turned enough in the seat so he could see into her dark eyes, her dusky face merely inches from his. “Would you do that for me?” he asked.

She ran her hand through his untidy brown hair. “Maybe.”

“Only maybe?”

“It depends on the severity of what was done to you.”

“Oh? Is there a sliding scale or something?”

“Perhaps.” She moved closer so their breath mingled.

“So if I lose a limb …”

“I might consider coming in your side.”

“Nice to know.” He lifted himself up enough so their lips could touch.

Someone coughed. Then again, this time with more meaning.

“Think perhaps you need to see the doctor for that, sir,” Zoe said, not moving.

“What did I say about no sexing on my bridge?” Mal asked, stepping over the threshold.

“That we weren’t to do it when you were looking?” Hank supplied.

“No. I’