“So,” Wash said, taking a deep breath of the sweet musky smell of her neck. “You mind tellin' me what reminded you that you loved me?”

“I never forgot I loved you,” Zoë laughed.

“Yeah, but still,” Wash insisted. “I need to know who I can thank for this sudden turn around in your disposition. I’m thinking about sending them a thank you card.”

Zoë laughed again.

“You know, somethin’ plain, ‘Your kind words meant a lot to me . . . they got my wife in bed.’”

“Oh, be quiet,” Zoë said, nudging his gut with her elbow.

“No, seriously, what changed your mind?” He said, kissing her neck as added incentive.

“Well,” Zoë sighed. “If you must know. . . .”

“E o!” Wash moaned, “I’m dying to know.”

“It was River.”

“River?” Wash asked, pulling himself away from his wife just a touch so he could look at her with a somewhat critical eye. “You’re taking romantic advice from a seventeen-year-old whose idea of a coherent sentence is ‘Two by two with hands of blue.’”

“That would be the River.”

“I suddenly feel less confident in your critical judgment skills.”

Zoë laughed again, “How about if I told you the good Doctor Tam inspired me.”

“Slightly more assured,” Wash said, kissing her right behind her ear. “Although the fact you can’t tell the difference between the brother and sister is still concerning.”

Zoë sighed contentedly and rolled over so that she was looking her husband in the eyes. “‘Member couple nights back when River was screamin’ like a banshee?”

“Not easy to forget,” Wash said gamely.

“Well, when I was in there she started talking crazy,”

“The girl is nothing if not consistent.”

“She was sayin’ that all these things happened in that big old book she’s been readin’ were real, were happenin’ ta us.”

“I hope her book has a happy ending.”

“Sometimes it do, as it turns out,” Zoë said, running her fingers up and down her husband’s arms. “For instance, she called you Hippomenes.”

“A hippopotamus?” Wash asked. “I know I’m not as buff as Jayne or gangly like Simon but . . .”

“