Leela was still reminding herself to be professional (and wait a mature, married-woman's ten minutes before punching her former lover in the face) when the hulking shape of the Nimbus came into view. And below it Nelvar V, a squat little planet wreathed in noxious orange mist. As they drew closer Leela made out fighter jets struggling to crest the fog. As she watched, one of the sleek green shapes burst free of the cloudbank and arced high above them – aimed squarely at the belly of the Nimbus.

Leela hit the acclerator without thinking, furiously pummelling the comms button as the ship sped forward. There were people on that ship who would die if Zapp Brannigan couldn't wrest his eyes from the mirror. (Or more accurately, his webpage, on which Zapp, unbeknownst to Leela, was currently debating the merits of right boobie versus left – and oh god Kif, what about the buttocks?)

Still, the point remained sound – there were innocent people on board the Nimbus (even if Zapp Brannigan happened to be one of them) and she couldn't let them die!

But something was happening to the fighter jet as it narrowed in on the Nimbus – a crackling electric charge hit its sleek exterior and spread, slowing the jet until . . . .

BOOM.

With a sound like the cork being pulled from the world's biggest bottle of champagne, the jet boomeranged off-course and out of sight, spinning out of the planet's orbit. It wasn't until she made to reverse that Leela noticed the stealthy crackle of electricity meshed around her own ship.

Of course. It was so Zapp Brannigan. An automatic defense system with one tiny flaw – an inability to tell the difference between friend and foe.

"Uh, Leela . . ."

Fry's voice sounded behind her, followed by Bender's decidedly more forthright cry of "Hey, Big Boots!"

And then too much happened, too fast.

Leela could never remember, later, which came first. Did the windscreen crack in the split second before they veered out of control, or in the desperate scrabble afterwards, when Bender's untethered, 40% titanium form smashed into it? Either way, the last thing she saw was a streak of foghat gray as Bender was sucked into the distance, his last words ("Bender is going to kill youuuuuuuuuuuu!") ringing in her ears. There was a moment of awful, sucking pressure, and then the emergency titanium windscreen clicked into place, shutting off her view of the stars.

In the shaky silence that followed, Leela reminded herself to breathe. Be professional, she ordered herself. Assess the situation.

Well . . . on the plus side, her eyeball was no longer at risk of being sucked into the vaccuum of space. On the other hand, the ship was adrift and off-course, and she couldn't see a thing. It pretty much amounted to the same thing.

Behind her, Fry was choking noisily on his own seatbelt.

Leela sighed and popped the clasp, watching him gasp for air.

"Bender!" he managed at last.

"Bender will be okay," Leela assured him. "Zapp will pick him up."

"Oh. Will Zapp pick us up?"

Leela grimaced. "If he can find us. We could be anywhere. And I've got nothing to navigate by!"

This wasn't quite true – they did have radar – but she was feeling peevish.

"Oh."

Fry fell silent, but his gaze continued to bore into the back of her neck as she rattled uselessly at the controls. Eventually, she gave up.

"Well now what do we do?"

Fry shrugged. "We could eat our shoes. I've always wanted to try Bender's Laces Linguini . . ."

"We are not eating our own shoes."

"Well I'm not having Toes Tartare."

Leela groaned. "Fry, just shut up."

The silence between them suddenly felt as taut as stretched elastic band.

She hadn't meant to say it – it had just slipped out! She'd been fraught and distracted, and Fry had been infuriatingly laidback, and she'd forgotten. Forgetten it was supposed to be awkward, forgotten their relationship wasn't the same anymore. For the smallest of moments the distance between them had faded. She hadn't been the woman who broke his heart and he hadn't been quietly broken-hearted. They'd just been Leela and Fry – and god, she'd missed it.

Leela flushed.

"I'm sorry, Fry."

Fry's forehead crinkled in confusion. "Why? You used to tell me to shut up ten times a day. I kinda liked it." He scuffed the floor with his shoe, avoiding her eye. "Leela?"

"What?"

Fry swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Why did you stop?"

If Leela had been flushed before, her face was an inferno now. "It . . . it just didn't feel right, Fry. It didn't feel . . . fair."

Fry simply stared at her, apparently bewildered. "But . . . but it was what you did. It was what my Leela did. She nagged me. And nagged me."

"I know, but-"

"And nagged me."

"But that was then, and this is-"

"Boy, did she nag me . . ."

"Fry!"

At the sight of Fry's triumphant grin Leela groaned. But then the cheer faded from his expression somewhat, though the smile remained.

"I never minded."

"I know."

They lapsed into silence again, but this time, it wasn't so bad.

Leela stared blankly at what had formerly been the windscreen, drumming her fingers on the armrest. Fry sprawled in the co-pilot's chair and started to hum to himself, some old tune she hadn't heard in years.

Hmm-hmm-hmm-HMMMM-hmmm-hmmm-hmmm-hmmm-HMMM-hmmm . . ..

She knew this song, didn't she? It was . .. it was . . .

Leela blinked.

Walking On Sunshine.