“You think this is a good idea?” Hank asked, easing the heavy bag on his shoulder.

“It’s the most sensible answer,” Zoe said, hefting the box.

“But shouldn’t we talk about this a bit more?”

She turned to look at him, hanging back. “Do you want to move in with me or not?”

“Zoe, my love, my dearest, my divine being, I’d move to the centre of a black hole if it meant being with you. I'm just …”

“Scared?”

He nodded slightly. “A bit.”

“Hank, we spend every night together in one or other of the bunks. Usually mine, since I've got a bigger bed. Then you get up and go back to your room to change before going to the bridge. Don’t you think we could improve on that?” She put the box down at her feet. “Just a bit?”

“I just … I mean, it took a long time for Simon and Kaylee to move in together, didn’t it?” His scruffy brown hair seemed worse than usual, a sure sign he’d been running his hands through it. “And it was years for Mal and Freya …”

“That’s them. This is us.” She was calm, willing to talk about this, but only for a while. “If you don’t want to move in, tell me. We can take all your stuff back right now.”

Hank bit his lip. “What do you want?” he asked.

“I want you to get your ass down that ladder.” Zoe sighed. “But you ain't ready, are you?”

“Maybe not quite yet.”

She picked up the box and headed back towards his bunk. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “He finally gets what he wants and he doesn’t want it.”

“Zoe …”

“What now?”

“I do want it.”

She turned to look at him. “Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s … it’s a big step.”

“No it ain't. It’s half a dozen small steps, down a ladder and into my bunk.”

“That’s just it,” he said. “Your bunk. It’s always your bunk. Or worse, yours and Wash’s bunk.”

“Is that it?” She moved towards him.

He held his ground. “It’s a big thing. I’m moving in with you.”

“Hank, I've got the bigger space. You don’t think I should move all my stuff into your small room?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Well, yes.” He shrugged. “How come you got the big room anyway?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “I mean, it’s bigger’n Mal’s even.”

“You really want to get into the history of room arrangements on board Serenity?” she said softly.

He knew that voice. It tended to go just before he got hit by a barrage of angry Zoe, but he’d come this far. “Yes. I’d like to know.”

“We tossed for it.”

“You … Mal let you …” He stood with his mouth open.

She sighed again. “Of course not.” She moved closer still. “When Wash and I got married we swopped rooms. The Captain used to have this one, and me the one next to Kaylee.”

“So he was being a gentleman?”

“Actually he said it was because Kaylee kept complaining that we were too noisy, and she wasn't getting enough sleep to be able to keep Serenity in the air.”

His mind filled in the blanks. “Oh. Right.”

Only the box in Zoe’s hands was between them now. “Do you think I’d be asking if I didn’t want you in there with me?” Her dark eyes looked into his grey orbs. “In our bunk?”

He swallowed. “Ours?”

“Hank, there’s going to be times when we fight, and there’ll be days you truly want to find someplace else to sleep. You know that. You’ve been married, you know what it’s like.”

“Long time ago,” he mumbled. “Might have forgotten.”

“Have you?”

He looked down at his feet. “No.”

“Then you know how this goes. We take our time. We see how we get on.” She waited for him to look at her, which he finally did. “I ain't asking you to marry me, Hank. Wouldn’t wish that on a mortal soul, not any more.” She half-smiled. “I got used to being on my own. I never thought I would, not after Wash died. That bed, half empty, never a warm body …”

“It’s not like that now,” he put in.

“No. And I’m getting used to something else myself.” The smile broadened. “So, are you going to be sensible about this, or am I going to have to drop this increasingly heavy box on your foot?” She pushed him slightly in the belly. “What’ve you got in here anyway?”

“My books,” he admitted. “That’s part of my library.”

Her eyes widened. “Those …” She put the box down, luckily just missing his toes. “If you think I’m having those trashy things in my bunk –“

“Your bunk?” he asked quietly.

They looked at each other then Zoe took a minute mental step backwards. “Our bunk.” She kicked the box. “But can’t these stay in your old room? We could make it pretty, put in a recliner chair, you could have a Cortex link, a small fridge unit, maybe Kaylee could paint some flowers on the wall for you –“

“I’m not asking you to put away Wash’s dinosaurs.”

“I already have.”

This time the pause was longer, more heavily pregnant with the two ways this could go.

“Zoe, they’re part of who you are.” Hank shook his head. “And I am immensely grateful to a man I never met that he gave you the ability to see there was more to life than this ship and Captain Malcolm Reynolds.”

“And you think you’re the more that gets the benefit?”

Hank took a deep breath. “Seems to me you’re the one who ain't so sure I should move in.”

“You are pushing it,” Zoe said, this time very quietly.

“What, you want to go get Vera and make an end of me?” He tried to shrug but just managed one shoulder due to the heavy bag on the other. “Fine. Go ahead. One way or the other.”

Zoe glowered at him, then said, slowly and with a deal of emphasis, “Do you want to share a bed? In a bunk? Which could be this one or another one of similar or smaller dimensions?”

Hank let a beat go by. “Yes.”

“Do you have a particular preference for which bunk of similar or smaller dimensions you would like us to share this said bed in?”

“I think you’ve been spending way too long with Mal,” Hank said conversationally. “You’re getting to talk like him.”

“If you don’t answer the question you won’t be talking at all, on account of your throat being cut and your body lying bleeding on the floor.”

“Are you threatening me?” He managed to make it sound surprising.

“Do I have to?” She leaned forward, her face so close that he could feel her breath moving the fine hairs on his cheek. “And answer the question.”

He smiled. “Zoe, get that damn box into our bunk so I can figure out where I'm gonna put all my books.”

She blinked. Just the once. Then she reached down and picked up the box, turning to carry it to her … to their bunk. Resting it on her hip she pushed the hatch open and climbed down.

A moment later, feeling like he’d just missed catching the Titanic, Hank followed.

His voice drifted up to the corridor above.

“And get those dinosaurs out again.”

“Are you telling me what to do?”

“No. Just making a suggestion.” There was a pause. “Only not that big one with the teeth.”

“The Rex?”

“No idea what his name is, but he keeps staring at me like he’s considering going for my jugular.”

“He has taste.”

“You saying I’m tasty?”

“Only as far as your flesh goes.”

“Sound kinky.”

“If you’ve ever wondered about kink, I've got some handcuffs …”

“Just tell me they ain’t the ones Kaylee tried out on Simon that time …”

The hatch closed.

“Did they know we were listening?” Freya asked Mal, sitting in the galley, each with a mug of coffee in front of them.

He shrugged. “I don’t think they cared.”

“You know, the last time we listened into a conversation like that, it was Simon and Kaylee. And they got you all manner of hot under the collar.”

Mal smiled. “Frey, you’re somewhat pregnant.” His wife happily patted the large mound at her waist. “I'm not sure Simon would approve of you thinking about that kind of thing at this stage.”

“It’s a couple of weeks yet, Mal,” she pointed out. “And I haven’t stopped thinking about that kind of thing since … well, ever.”

“I’ll tell you what,” her husband said, leaning across so he could look directly into her eyes. “If you can beat me in a race down to our temporary home, you can have me.”

“That is just mean,” she said, moving forward as far as the bulge would let her. “You know I can’t move quick.”

His lips twitched. “Who said I was gonna run fast?”