The night after the crew learns of Lo’Laan, D’Argo finds his way to Zhaan’s room, long after everyone else is asleep. He expects to find her sleeping, too, but she is sitting on top of her bed, draped in nothing but a loose sheet, meditating. He makes to leave, so as not to interrupt, but she hears him and says, “D’Argo. Come in.”
"I don’t mean to disturb you," he says.
She drops the posture and gets to her feet, slow and graceful. “Not at all,” she says. “I was expecting you, in fact.”
She nods, and turns to face him. “After your… episode, I thought you might be in need of some company.”
He starts forward. “Zhaan, when I thought you were her, I—”
She holds up a hand. “No need to explain.”
"Yes, there is. Zhaan, I didn’t pick those roles by accident."
Infuriatingly, her face betrays nothing as she tilts her head. “What do you mean?”
D’Argo crosses the room and sits heavily on the bed. “Crichton was my wife’s brother because he resembles a Sebacean and our relationship is… tense. Rygel was Jothee because of his size and childish behavior. And you were my wife.” He looks up at her, the intensity in his eyes explaining what words have stopped short of.
Zhaan, briefly, does not know what to say. She takes a seat on the bed next to D’Argo and covers his hand with hers.
"The kiss—" she begins. But D’Argo shakes his head.
"It meant nothing. Not between us. But if you wish—"
She kisses him.
"What about that one?" she says. "Does that one mean anything?"
A slow smile creeps across his face. “Zhaan,” he says, his voice as soft as it will ever get, “I would be honored to share your bed tonight.”
"You are welcome to it," she says.
It takes some maneuvering. After all, he is big, and these beds are not made for two. But they fall asleep together, Zhaan’s back to D’Argo’s chest, his arms wrapped around her, and a blissful smile on her face, even in sleep.