"It isn't the configurations that matter," she says, vaulting quick and easy over the back of the seat. She drops her head back, rolls it to the side, looks over at him with those dark, crazy eyes; her hands are busy already, twisting things back into position, firing her up. "It's the pattern, Malcolm," she says, "the pattern that continues. Forward motion." She grins, sideways and a little loopy. "Progress."

Oh, this is totally lovely! I really like this glimpse into what their world is like after the movie has ended. And your River is delightful.