His hearts nearly freeze in his chest as he sees her motionless silhouette framed in the hatchway. She is as light as a feather in his arms as he draws her in through the open hatch, and he takes a moment that they really can't spare just sitting there on the floor, with her clutched tight against his chest, assuring himself that she is safe.

And then she surprises him again, bouncing to her feet, so pleased with herself, demanding to know if she'd done 'all right.' He grumbles a bit, but her eyes are shining and full of wonder, and he thinks back ever so far, trying to recall just how young he'd been when he faced his very own first scary alien life form, and takes another moment that they don't have to cup her face in his hand and assure her that she'd done just fine.

It scares him, seeing her pallor, and the horror in her eyes, and he really doesn't like her uncharacteristically quiet acquiescence to his instructions, but right now there is literally not a single moment to stop and comfort her, not if he wants to keep them all alive. He prays to anyone who might be listening that there will be a 'later.'

They are safe now, and he wonders if his impossible girl knows just how close they'd come to losing all their moments and maybes and might have beens. And then a pair of surprisingly strong arms are locked around his neck - pure steel, encased in such delicate beauty - and he is so startled that he doesn't react. At all. And then the moment is broken, and she steps back. He curses himself for a fool, for letting that moment slip away, he really should know better by now, just how quickly and capriciously fate can snatch his precious ones away from him. And then she smiles at him - that endearing, impish grin of hers, and he finds himself smiling back, and silently promising himself to savor each and every moment that they have together.