1-Million-Words

“Come into the galley,” said Zoe.

“Ooh, are we going to christen the space? As newlyweds, I think it’s our right to do that.”

“I’d also have the right to space you,” said Mal, entering the corridor.

“Today’s not the day to space anyone, Sir.”

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t make you a widow before the honeymoon ended.”

“Thank you, Captain. You coming along?”

“No, I think I’ll leave you two on your own. It’s the least I can do.”

“Much obliged.”

They entered the galley. Wash’s nose twitched at the wonderful aroma emanating from the direction of the stove.

“That doesn’t smell like protein paste over water.”

“It isn’t.”

Wash walked over to the stove and lifted the lid on a large pot. “Carrots?” he asked.

“Yes. And onions, a bit of celery, some potatoes, tomatoes, and beans.”

“Wow. Did Mal know you smuggled vegetables aboard?”

“He helped. Kaylee found the pot and Inara got a few of the spices I asked for.”

“Can I have some?”

“I made it for you.”

He took a spoon, dipped it into the pot, and then took a sip.

“Delicious. A meal this good deserves a name. I’m gonna call it ‘wife soup.’”