"Leave Serenity ?" Zoë repeated slowly, turning to face her husband on the bed. Wash nodded, leaving the buttons on his shirt alone long enough to take her hands in his.

"We could pack a few things, find a hotel in the town and enjoy some quiet to ourselves," he whispered, tugging on her hands. "Think of what we could do in real, actual privacy..."

"But, you mean, actually leave Serenity, " Zoë repeated. He almost had her, he could tell.

"It wouldn't be forever," Wash reminded his wife. "Just a week. Next week."

"But...next week?" Zoë pulled her hands from Wash's. "Next week of all weeks?"

"I...what?"

"It's Christmas," Zoë replied as though this meant something.

"Well, yeah, but," Wash blinked at Zoë in astonishment. "It's not... No one here really does more than an extra toast at dinner. Maybe there's a pie. Can't we just...celebrate Christmas a week later? Or early?"

"Put off Christmas?" Zoë stared. "Good luck tellin' Kaylee that. And you know she bought presents this year."

"We live on a spaceship," Wash pointed out. "We barely remember what month it is... What difference does it make if we're here one week or another?"

"It makes a difference to some," Zoë answered. Wash sat back on the bed and watched his wife stare at him.

"If I talk it over with Kaylee and she's okay with putting off the semi-traditional Christmas toast," Wash finally acceded, "Will you talk to the Captain and take a week of our long-overdue vacation next week?"

"One hurdle at a time, dear," Zoë smiled as she leaned down to kiss her husband.

"No, I learned what that means," Wash said, moving to avoid the conversation-ending-kiss. "That means you won't ask him and you'll watch him schedule some wild scheme to steal - I don't know - orange foozles from some well-armed rich slob and then tell me that you can't take the time off because he'll get himself killed. Which he would if you weren't there to tell him that orange foozles have venomous bites. And then Jayne will get bitten