Zoe was good at getting used to things, though, and after a while she’d mostly lost the sense of compression. Wash always did have a way of sliding around her, reconfiguring so that things that seemed hard turned easy as gravity. The bed still gave her a twitch now and then, when matters on the ship weren’t right, but Wash’s hand on her hip was a good way to forget all that. She’d even started to think about how they might hang a cradle in the corner. There’d still be plenty of room to move, if they moved careful.
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Oh! and oh, that last line. Oh, Zoe. Oh, Wash.