They rarely fought. Most of the time, they were on the same page about most everything. But when they fought, they fought.
He didn't remember how it all began. That's the way it always was. By the end of the argument, the point was lost in the crossfire. He just knew that he started it, and she finished it.
Whenever they came to blows, it was downright dangerous. It was ten times more explosive and twenty times more hurtful than Jayne's grenades. The crew knew to run for cover as soon as the shouting started.
It had only been twenty minutes or so since the row ended. He was alone in the kitchen licking his wounds.
"Captain."
The voice shook him from his thoughts. Surely it wasn't…
"River. What-"
"Not here to fight," she said quickly. "The probability of one of us dying from natural causes is 4.01%. When you add the likelihood of dying from an accident and fatality caused by a ship malfunction, the probability of death increases to 13.34%. If you add the odds of a death related to our occupations to the overall chance of one or both of us dying, the number increases to an average of 41.68%. Given that figure, the probability of death occurring tomorrow is 7.32%. That means that there's a 7.32% chance that the last thing I said to you will be the very last thing. I didn't like the last thing I said to you."
He smiled at her. "I don't like what I said last neither."
"I love you," she stated seriously.
"I love you too, darlin'."
A small smile broke through. It was quickly replaced with a frown. "I'm still mad at you."
With that, she walked out. He grinned.
"That's my River."