They'd taken off from Regina as soon as Jayne got back, and were now heading through the black to Corvus. The big man had gone straight to the infirmary, to check on River, but now joined the others in the galley, waiting to hear the verdict on their passengers.
Freya poured herself a cup of coffee. "Why do pious people always make me want to wash my mind out?" she asked, sipping the liquid to take the taste of them away.
"Because they're always looking for the dirt in everyone," Mal said. "Not as ready to accept people the way they are, unlike us poor but honest crooks."
"Probably." She suppressed a shiver.
"So the Hetters're not likely to be a threat, then," Zoe said.
"Not unless it's holding a Sunday Service in the cargo bay. And they'd be most put out that half the crew couldn't attend."
"Half?" Mal paused for a moment, doing the math. "Well, okay, maybe. Good job we're not keeping them on board too long, then." He looked at her. "What about Roxanna?"
"That's different." Freya took a deep breath through her nostrils, holding it. "She won't talk to me about the baby, just keeps saying it's fine."
"Any reason to doubt her?"
"Oh, just one." She looked around the faces in the galley, coming back to Mal. "She's sick."
Simon stood straighter.
"She's pregnant," Hank said. "That ain't being sick." He glanced at Zoe. "Believe me when I say that."
"No, I mean really sick. Ill. She's got something physically wrong with her."
"Any idea what?" Mal asked. "And is it contagious?" He put his hand on her arm, worried about their own baby.
"I can't tell. Her mind's got a lot of natural barriers, partly due to the pregnancy."
"Did you tell her you were pregnant?" Mal asked.
"You are?" Hank looked at Zoe. "She is?"
Zoe shook her head slowly, this as much news to her as to the pilot.
"I told her," Freya said. "She denied there was anything that might affect me or the baby."
"You need to examine her, doc," Mal said quickly, turning to Simon. "Ain't having nothing coming onto my ship that's going to jeopardise any one of 'em."
"And if she refuses?"
"It won't take much to turn around and put her back on Regina."
"Would you do that?"
"Not if I can help it, but I'm leaving my options open. Try."
Simon nodded and headed towards the lower level.
Jayne followed. "Doc, I wanna take River back to our shuttle. Is that okay with you?"
Simon was surprised. It showed the measure of the man, the depth of his feelings, that he was actually asking permission.
"I think that's a good idea. Familiar surroundings might help."
"I'll make it nice for her."
"Ah … good."
"It ain't right for her to be like this," Jayne's deep voice grumbled. "Not when she's got us."
"Keep telling her that."
"Oh, I intend to."
Back up in the dining area Zoe was gazing calmly at her captain. "So. Freya's pregnant, sir," she said.
"That we are." Mal smiled.
"Congratulations."
"Thanks."
"Were you going to tell us, or maybe we were supposed to guess?"
Mal looked at his wife, who shrugged. He could get himself out of this. "Well, it wasn't quite how I planned letting everyone know. Not that most of you didn't anyway."
"I didn't," Hank put in.
"We didn't want to … what with you and little Ben … we thought it better to wait," Freya put in, despite herself.
"And when were you planning on giving us the good news?"
"Hey, you were the ones waited almost until he was born to tell me Hank'd knocked you up," Mal protested. "And you're living in sin."
"And you're trying to change the subject, sir."
He glared at her, then unexpectedly laughed. "We were gonna tell you tonight, and wave Inara too. Sorry you found out this way."
"But you're pregnant," Hank said, trying to get the confirmation from the woman herself.
"I am." Freya couldn't stop the grin spreading across her face.
Hank joined her. "That's great!" He hugged her.
"Congratulations, sir," Zoe said, her own lips curving. "And I mean it." She put her arms around the other woman, holding her tight.
"I know you do." Mal put his hand on her shoulder. "And thanks."
"What for?" his first mate asked, letting go to look at him.
"Not shooting me for not telling you."
"Oh, I think it would prob'ly take more than that."
"So there would come a point where you might?" Freya asked, glancing from one to the other. "I think you and me need to have a talk," she said to Zoe. "Help me finish off the meal."
"You get the feeling we're being dismissed?" Hank asked.
"Figure we are," Mal agreed.
"You think they might get violent if we don't go?"
"Maybe. Hormones, you know."
"Oh, hormones," Hank said knowledgably.
---
At the bottom of the stairs they split, Jayne to collect River from the infirmary, and Simon to call on their pregnant guest. His steps slowed as he approached the room.
She was staring at something, something in an ornate box, not knowing he was watching. Sliding one finger down the metal tube, almost lovingly, she sighed and closed the lid.
"Roxanna. How are you feeling?" Simon asked, leaning in the doorway.
"I'm fine, thank you." She slid the small box back under her pillow.
"I'd really like to take a look at you, if I may. Just to reassure myself."
"I said I'm fine." The steel Mal had seen in her came to the surface again.
"Then you won't mind telling me what that was."
She gazed at him. "What?"
"It looked like a hypo kit."
"Then you saw wrong."
The young man's voice was gentle, persuasive. "Roxanna, if Freya says you're sick, then you're sick. You don't argue with her."
"How would –"
"Let's just say the captain's wife is very intuitive." He smiled a little. "She's also pregnant, and if there's anything wrong with you that could possibly communicate itself to her or the unborn child, I need to know."
"It's nothing like that.
He held out his hand. "Then can I see?"
For a moment she wondered whether to argue, to insist it was none of his business, but the gentleness of his blue eyes, the honest need in them to help her, made her slip her hand under the pillow and remove the box. She handed it over and watched as he opened it.
"Codafenicol." He looked down at her. "This is about as strong a painkiller as you can get." He saw the lines around her eyes, the tightness of her skin elsewhere. "A tumour?"
She nodded slowly. "Yes."
"Where?" he asked, sitting down next to her.
"It started in my breast, but …"
"It's metastasized."
"Yes. There's one in my brain, and it's … I don't have long."
"But there are treatments, drugs …"
"All of them harmful to unborn children. And it's too late for an operation. Besides, I made my mind up when I found out I was pregnant. I'm not important. My baby is." She took his hand. "I have to have this baby. It's all that I have left."
"But if you've not been taking the treatment –"
"I know there's only a little time. That's why Three Hills is as good a place as any. I just took the first transport that came along." She smiled a little. "Well, maybe not the first. That wouldn't even let me on board."
"It's been known." He looked at her pale fingers entwined in his, feeling sympathy and regret for her condition. "Is the Codafenicol working?"
She shook her head. "It takes the edge off, but I'm having to take more and more. It never really goes."
"At least let me examine you. I might be able to –"
"You won't." She patted his hand. "But if it makes you feel any better, I'll let you."
Simon smiled. "Good. And I'll check the baby too."
"The baby's fine." She put her hands on her belly. "Aren't you, sweetheart?"
Simon felt his heart jump a little. "Come on. No time like the present." He stood up, helping her to her feet.
"Thank you. I never expected … out here …"
He smiled a little. "Neither did I."
---
Jayne carried River out into the cargo bay and up the stairs, stiff and unyielding in his arms. She wouldn't look at him, keeping her eyes closed all the time. Even when he laid her gently onto their bed in the shuttle, she rolled away, turning from him to face the bulkhead.
The big man stared at her, trying to figure out what to do. In the end he just spoke his feelings.
"You're shuttin' me out, River. Can't hear you no more. 'N' that … that hurts."
He sat down in the chair, wanting to touch her but knowing she didn't want that kind of intrusion.
"You accepted who you are enough to be with me. This ain't changed a damn thing, River. I still love ya. You're mine and I ain't gonna let you go back."
She hadn't moved. If he couldn't hear the slight sound of her breathing, he would've thought she was dead.
"Ain't I enough? I know you put all your faith in your brother, being kin and all, but … you're with me now. Ain't I enough for ya? I'm big, River. Big enough for you to anchor yourself to, to hold onto, when it gets bad. And I know it's bad now. But … I ain't changed either. I'll be here. Long as you want. Longer, if you don't kill me."
He leaned back in the seat and ran his hands across his face, through his short hair.
"Don't know what to say to you, moonbrain. To prove to you it don't matter. But we're going to Corvus, see that friend of yours. That Andrew feller. Maybe he can … do something to help you."
He shook his head.
"I'll grab us some food, how about that? Then we'll just sit. If'n you don't wanna talk, we don't have to. I'll clean my guns, and you can … I'm here, River."
She didn't acknowledge him, but tears ran down her cheek and nose to soak into the pillow.
---
Mal looked around the table at the majority of his crew and two of the passengers. "We'll be landing on Three Hills in five days, with just a little delay. We're dropping by to see an old friend on Corvus, so –"
"A detour?" Hetter sounded querulous. "That wasn't mentioned to me when we came on board."
"We go where we're needed," Hank said, piling his plate with food.
"It'll be a few hours. A day at most. But we'll get you to Three Hills as planned." Mal poured water for himself and Freya, trying to keep his temper. Hetter had the ability to rub him up the wrong way without even trying. "It won't inconvenience you."
"It is inconvenient. I have a flock waiting for me on –" Hetter stopped, staring as Simon helped Roxanna into the galley. "What is she doing here?"
"Same as everyone else," Mal said. "Partaking of this fine meal." He looked at the young doctor, who shook his head slightly, indicating everything was, if not okay, at least not dangerous.
"Not so fine," Freya said softly. "I cooked most of it."
Mal smiled, about to claim her cooking was improving, when he was interrupted.
"I won't break bread with a woman of this … type." Hetter looked like he'd chewed on a whole lemon grove, not just one fruit.
"You're a guest on my boat," Mal said, deceptively quietly. "I'd take it as a kindness if you behaved with something more of a Christian attitude."
Hetter's eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hair. "You'd rather take this dongwu whore's side over mine?"
Mal straightened in his seat, aware the rest of the crew were watching him, including Bethie and Ethan, who were more than a little scared. "Apologise."
"What?"
"Apologise to her right now."
"No, it's alright, Captain," Roxanna said, managing to push Simon's hand from her arm. "I think I'd rather eat in my room anyway."
"That ain't the point."
"It doesn't matter." She spoke as if the entire weight of the 'verse was on her shoulders. "Really, it doesn't matter." She walked unsteadily out, back towards the passenger quarters.
"Roxanna –" Simon began, but Freya stood up.
"Let me." She put a hand on Mal's shoulder and followed the other woman.
"She's unwed," Hetter said, not realising the hole he was digging for himself. "An unwed mother is a sin."
"Really." Mal gazed at him, very little emotion apparent on his face, except to the other members of his crew. Hank edged his chair surreptitiously backwards.
"She is to be looked down on and shunned!"
"That's what you think, is it?"
"That's what I know!"
"Huh." Mal let the silence build between them.
Hetter broke it first. "If we could have found another ship we would."
"You know, I don't think I'd've minded if you had."
"But you wear a cross – and a wedding band!" Hetter complained. "How can you be so forgiving?"
Mal wanted to wipe the disgusted look off the man's face. "Isn't that what the Bible teaches? Forgiveness? Or ain't that in your version?"
Hetter was pale with anger. "Do not blaspheme."
"Blasphemy? Believe me, I think I know more about that than you do, and I still say you're in the wrong." He leaned forward. "And you will apologise to Miss Caldwell. Or I'll put you off on Corvus, and you won't be finding another ship landing there for quite a while."
"If it's God's will –"
"Not God's will. Mine."
Everyone around the table knew that look, that tone. Mal meant every word.
Hetter realised he'd gone too far. "As you insist. I shall speak to … her … in the morning. But now I think it better if we eat in the cargo bay, Captain," Hetter said, picking up his plate and nodding to his wife. "This is a heathen ship, and I shall have nothing more to do with you."
He strode purposefully out of the room, his wife following a little slower.
"Mal, you want I should ask Jayne to put him out the airlock?" Hank asked, watching them go.
Mal exhaled heavily. "As tempting as that sounds, no."
"Can we at least keep it in mind?"
"That I think we can do."