He narrowly misses River, and gets an extra half-second from the fact that River's giggling too much at the quick dodging to make it around the corner and up the steps before him. Instead, she has to try darting under his arm, still giggling, and snaking around him to get ahead.



Later, she'll sit quiet and nauseous on a box, studying her bare toes while the familiar short-term side effects slide through her system; later than that, she'll hold dinner plates carefully in both hands, helping to set the table and feeling the furniture and chopsticks in case her eyes are lying again, because no medicine helps everything, and no medicine helps all the time.

But for now -- for now, River's laughing, and yeah, Mal's screwed.