A/N: Ahem: Clap for the Whedon; he owns the Firefly.
Not me, just Whedon. I'm gonna dig 'em 'til the day I die!
(All apologies, also, to the Guess Who, for their inspiration for title and poorly filked disclaimer.)
Zoe had been… odd. She had always seemed a little strange to River; a calm smooth surface and crushing depths of anger-love-rage-protectiveness-bloodlust-sadness-laughter bitter and sweet just beneath. Though the amyglada in River's brain had been removed, Zoe seemed to have extra. Her emotions were there, of course - River could see them simmer just beneath the subvocal level and catch the momentary reactions of the first mate's ganglia and facial muscles – but the lid was tight on that pot. Tight enough to heat past boiling.
On Miranda, the pressure cooker finally exploded. River supposed that it must have done so before, but before then, there'd always been somebody to help Zoe glue herself back together with a little bit of arguing and a lot of love and laughter. Now, Zoe was left empty.
Or nearly so… A couple months after, when they'd managed to touch down in one place for a week without needing to fear, for once (didn't need to, but River still did. Purplebellies had gone yellow, but the hands of blue were still going on two by two by two until they see you…) Zoe had seen another doctor. She'd wanted another opinion besides the Boob's. (River didn't blame her. She'd seen as many births as her brother had.) The other doc had agreed, and Zoe had come back crying and laughing and her thoughts were filled with thanks and fights with Wash. The captain had been more than a little nervous, and that argument floated through Zoe's mind again: Ship is no place to raise a baby.
"It's better than a rotting Core," River jumped in.
"Well, we're all glad it's nothin' fatal, Albatross," Malcolm had replied offhandedly. He didn't understand, as usual. Zoe's expression was carefully blank. River didn't think she had understood, either, but that, too, was nothing particularly noteworthy. What was noteworthy was the way Zoe had turned down the captain's offers. No safe pasture for this new mother. River didn't think those existed anymore. But a mother Zoe would be.
Kaylee had been estatic, her mind flashing bubbling rainbows of joy. Once Simon and Inara had known Zoe's thoughts on the matter, they too showed smiles, but River had seen the fear in the back, just like the captain's. River didn't know why they were so scared. Mal had been Daddy to her and Simon when their Father wouldn't-couldn't-shouldn't come, and Simon and Inara ought to know plenty of taking care of little ones by now. They'd helped her deliver a baby boy, after all. Some of Zoe's slight worries River could understand, but it all just boiled down to a change. This crew had seen enough changes to know that not all such things were bad, and even the worst could have some silver (rusting now, but they'd put on a new coat of paint and she'd hold together until touch down, if lucky dinosaurs meant anything) lining.
And a little one… Well, that was hardly the worst that had ever happened to them. River could teach her how to run and dance and hang upsidedown by her knees and fifty ways to disable an opponent while barefoot… And jacks. River and Kaylee both would have to teach Young Miss Washburn jacks. But Zoe would have to have the honor of teaching her about the dinosaurs. River still wasn't quite sure what some of the models were supposed to represent. There was one that sort of resembled an Allosaurus, but was entirely lacking in feathers, when the fossil evidence from Earth-That-Was was quite clear on this point.
River wondered if her own biological imperative would be affecting her judgement soon. She rather liked other people's children, provided that they showed a modicum of intellect and were willing to interact with her, but she had never been particularly interested in procuring small moonbrains. Perhaps some experimentation was in order, just to see if there really was a woman lurking beneath the living weapon that the Alliance had carved out of her mind.
She had really never asked Jayne for his opinion. He seemed mostly indifferent to the idea of a new small one on Serenity, and one didn't have to read minds to know his general thoughts on matters of a sexual nature.
The latter made him the most logical choice for River's own intial experiments. Jayne could be counted upon to accept whatever trim was offered, unlike Simon or Mal. River didn't understand why her brother had been so upset about her early inquiries as to that matter, but it was of no pressing concern. So, perhaps, she would never know the methods of the ancients. River was forced to conceed that her brother was probably right on the matter of recessive alleles, and besides, it might upset Kaylee. Jayne was known to love 'em and leave 'em, and even if she could not exactly be left behind the next time Serenity took to the sky, he could be nearly as professional as Inara. River had briefly considered going to the former Companion for training, but River knew the female form well enough. She wanted to test something new.
How could she be upset, then, when plain, instinctual Jayne shouted surprise-fear-lust-anger-noblity-violence at her with words and mind and action? Rising from the floor, unmindful of her vest or the open door, River considered the room once more. She would have to study this Cobb specimen more thoroughly. He was beginning to intrigue her.