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Mar. 29th, 2006 10:44 pmThe ship isn't really any quieter than usual, he tells himself.
It's the truth: at this hour of ship's night, in their bunk with the door closed, it's always this quiet. There's the constant low hum of the engine, and the almost subliminal vibrations through the floor of River moving quietly about in her room across the hall, and little else. When there's no crisis aboard the ship, this level of quiet is normal.
It doesn't change anything.
Simon sits on the edge of the bed, his forgotten shirt hanging loosely from one hand, and stares at the far wall.
It's the truth: at this hour of ship's night, in their bunk with the door closed, it's always this quiet. There's the constant low hum of the engine, and the almost subliminal vibrations through the floor of River moving quietly about in her room across the hall, and little else. When there's no crisis aboard the ship, this level of quiet is normal.
It doesn't change anything.
Simon sits on the edge of the bed, his forgotten shirt hanging loosely from one hand, and stares at the far wall.
