"What?" Simon was slightly distracted.

Mal took a deep breath. "I was asking if it's okay for Freya to stay a coupla days with Malfrey. Given that she's pregnant."

"What?" His mind wasn't on what Mal was saying, more on the fact that Kaylee had thrown up that morning. He was pretty sure she wasn't pregnant, but maybe it would be a good idea to test things. He'd stopped drinking Ellie Frye's tea, more or less the moment they decided to adopt Hope, but there was just the possibility that –

"Simon."

He looked up at the 'captainy' tone of voice. "What?"

"How's Frey."

The young doctor tried to concentrate. "She's fine. I checked her over yesterday. So's the baby."

"Good." Mal shook his head. "Something on your mind, doc?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

Mal walked out of the infirmary, shaking his head.

Simon busied himself tidying his cupboards, and it wasn't until he felt Serenity lift off a little while later that he considered what the captain had actually said.

---

"Here," Dillon said, opening a door and waving a hand like a magician. "You can use this suite."

Freya stepped through, and smiled. "It's … acceptable."

"Thanks for trying, but I don't feel in the mood for laughing right now," her friend said, carrying her bag inside and putting it on the stand at the foot of the bed. "You haven't brought much with you."

"It's just a few days, Dillon. And I can make do with a toothbrush and a spare pair of panties if I need."

At that his lips did actually lift. "As much as that."

"Well, the panties are optional."

"You know, that was way too much information." Dillon pointed to the doors that led off the bedroom. "That's the bathroom, and there's a sitting room with a Cortex you can use whenever you want."

"Thanks, Dillon."

"No." He shook his head, looking older than she'd ever seen. "No, I should be thanking you. With Breed the way he is, I … I don't know that I could cope on my own."

"You don't have to. That's what friends are for."

"I'll let you settle in and unpack your toothbrush." He went to leave then turned back, his hand on the door. "You know, you'd better stay put while you're here. There's news from most of Persephone that more people are getting sick."

"Like Breed?"

"I don't know. Every time I try to find anything out I get blocked." There was a flash of anger across his eyes.

She crossed the room and put her arms around him. "You need to be sneaky."

"I'm trying." He hugged her, mindful of the baby, then stepped back. "You know, if I wasn't sly, and you weren't married and getting huge, I'd take you to bed."

"Good job you are, and I am. And I'm not huge. Not yet."

"No?" He smiled and closed the door behind him.

She shook her head. If nothing else, maybe she could make him less anxious. And she'd meant what she said before. That's what friends did for each other.

Walking to the window, she looked out at the manicured grounds. They said money couldn't buy you happiness, but there was some truth to the fact that it made being miserable a lot more comfortable. Yet it was also said that the love of money was the root of all evil. The truth, as usual, probably lay somewhere in the middle.

Something churned in her stomach, and a low moan wrenched from her. Clasping a hand to her mouth, she looked around desperately, trying to remember which door led to the bathroom. A flash of white tile to her left had her walking as fast as she could, but she only just managed to lean over the toilet bowl before she lost her breakfast.

Retching until she was dry and her throat burned, she grabbed a towel and slid slowly down the wall to sit on the floor.

"I thought we'd got past this," she said softly, gazing down at her belly. "A week now, and you've not made me do this." She patted the mound. "No more, dong mah?"

Leaning her head back, she could feel the coolness easing the headache that had started to gnaw at her.

...

..

.

"Where's Frey?" he asked, climbing from the mule.

Simon nodded towards the upper crew quarters. "In your bunk. She's sleeping, I hope."

"Is everything okay?" Mal felt his chest contract a little.

"The morning sickness is back. I've had to hook her up to an IV to keep any fluids in her at all, but she wouldn't stay in the infirmary."

"Not surprised. She's seen the inside of that place a few too many times." Mal glanced over his shoulder.

"We'll unload, sir," Zoe said quickly.

"Thanks." He headed up the stairs and down into their bunk.

She was lying on the bed, wrapped in one of his old shirts, and he had to smile a little as he realised she was also wearing a pair of his boxer shorts. She looked better in them that he did, even though they were slung low under the swell of their child. Her back was to him, a saline bag suspended from the bulkhead above her.

"Hey," he whispered.

She rolled over. "Hey."

He was shocked at how she looked. Her skin was an unhealthy grey, and looked sweaty.

"Doc says you're feeling under the weather," he said, sitting down carefully on the edge of the bed.

"You could say that." She smiled at him. "I didn't think you'd be back yet."

"Well, no-one got shot this time, so we made good time." He smoothed her damp hair from her face. "Is it really bad?"

She shrugged. "Not good," she admitted.

It had to be bad. She wouldn't say that if she didn't feel like hell. "Worse than with Ethan?"

"God, yes." She lay her head on his thigh.

"You likely to throw up on me?"

"Probably."

"Well, just let me know, and I'll try and get out of the way."

"Okay."

He rubbed her back gently. "Isn't there something Simon can give you?"

"Nothing works." She closed her eyes. "I can't keep anything down. That's why he's got me hooked up to this thing." She rattled the IV tube.

"Oh, honey." He leaned over and kissed her damp cheek. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Putting you through this."

She managed a smile and looked into his concerned blue eyes. "Hey, only a little while to go." She grimaced.

"Need the bucket?" he asked, looking around for it.

"Not …" She swallowed hard. "There's nothing left to throw up."

"Where's Ethan?"

"In with Bethany."

"You know, that kid ain't gonna thank us for screwing him up."

"What? How?"

"Letting him sleep with a beautiful young woman at his age."

She smiled. "I think he'll forgive us. Anyway, Kaylee's looking after him, since every time I stand up I tend to pass out."

"So I guess raucous, ferocious sex is out of the question."

"Well, not unless you want it followed by disgusting cleaning up …"

He chuckled. "I think I'll pass."

"Sorry."

"Hey, nothing for you to be apologising for. It's my kid in there causing all the trouble."

"I'll remember to tell her about that, when she's born. You can take all the blame."

"You do that." Her eyes had closed again, and she'd begun to shiver.

"Come on," he said, moving her back on the bunk to give himself enough room to lie down. "You're getting cold."

"Hot, cold … I've got the works here." She snuggled into his shoulder, her face resting on the brown leather of his coat. She breathed deeply.

"That likely to make you sick too?" he asked, seeing her taking in his scent. "Only I ain't as clean as you usually like."

She didn't answer.

"Frey?"

She was asleep, one arm draped across him, the other under her, supporting the swelling of her belly.

He smiled. "That's it, ai ren," he whispered, reaching down and kissing her forehead gently. "You sleep. I'm here. Ain't nothing gonna harm you with me around."

…

"I wasn't sure I was dreaming at the time," Mal said, gazing at Freya over the Cortex. "Then I woke up." He didn't say he'd laid awake the rest of the night worrying about her.

"I have been throwing up, though. Morning sickness at this late stage is no fun, I can tell you." She tipped her head onto one side. "Maybe you're picking up the feelings from me."

"You projecting?"

"Not that I'm aware of. River all right?"

"She'd kinda been keeping out of my way."

"Why? What have you done?"

"Me? Why should I have done something?"

"Mal …"

"No, honest. Not done a thing. She's been hiding herself away most of the time in the shuttle, and all she'll say to people is that she feels fuzzy."

"What does Simon say?"

"Not a lot. He's spending most of his time in the infirmary at the moment." He paused.

"Why?" she prompted.

"Frey, I don't know if he can do anything, but Hank managed to pull Breed's records off the Persephone medbase before we left. He's looking them over."

"It can't hurt. Has he come to any conclusions?"

"Not yet. But been less than a day." He leaned forward, as if his next words might be overheard. "He thought Kaylee might be pregnant yesterday."

Freya's face took on a look of disbelief. "No. Is she?"

"Nope. He tested her and she's still unsullied. Well, lately, anyway."

"Mal, I think he manages to sully her as often as possible."

He laughed, but said, "You've got a worse mind than Jayne."

"Oh, come on. That's not possible." She grinned, then closed her eyes quickly, her hand coming to her throat.

"Gonna throw up?" he asked softly, wishing he was there to help her.

"Probably."

"Then I'd better let you get to it."

"Thanks." Her dry tone made him smile.

"Then you lie down. You can talk to Dillon all you like later. I want you to rest for a while, okay?"

"Okay."

She started to puff, and he recognised the signs. "Go on. Bathroom."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," she promised, then moved out of image, a hand slapping down on the off button as she went.

Mal stared at the blank screen. "Oh, Frey. Next time, I really will dope you."

…

..

.

It was snowing outside, but in here, in the room with the fire roaring in the grate, it was just perfect. She lay on her back on the rug and sighed

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, sitting up next to her, looking down at her body gilded with the light from the flames.

"How wonderful this is." She stretched. "Being here with you, no-one to interrupt, just you and me, a bottle of champagne …"

He tipped a small amount into her swollen belly then leaned forward and licked it clean. "Mmn," he agreed.

"Tickles," she said, laughing, trying – not very hard – to push him away.

"Well, there's more where that came from." He took a swig from the bottle then moved up, his lips coming down onto hers, sharing the champagne with her.

"Freya?" Someone was shaking her awake.

…

Mal opened his eyes briefly, and felt for her. No, of course, she was at Malfrey's. Doing her good deed. Maybe she should consider doing that a little less often and staying home a little bit more. He smiled sleepily. Maybe he should keep that to himself. She was still capable of giving him a punch even at seven months pregnant. His eyes began to close, and he knew he was sliding back into the dream. Just wished he knew why he was dreaming about this, though.

As it claimed him, he realised that now he was watching but not participating.

…

She opened her eyes. "Damn," she whispered.

"Good dream?" MacAlister asked, smiling, his eyes twinkling. "You seemed to be enjoying it."

"Then why the hell did you wake me up?"

"Because it's time."

Freya sighed. "You sure?"

"You want to get back to base, we have to go now. I think they're reloading."

Freya listened. The bombardment had indeed lessened. "Okay." She looked around the foxhole at the men all watching her. Rain was falling steadily, making the mud even stickier than usual. "Time to get gone, folks." She stood up, looking over the edge. "They sure are persistent."

"That they are," MacAlister agreed.

"Come on." She led the way, keeping low as they left the comparative shelter, heading towards the ridge to their right. Not far, she kept telling herself. Not far and they'd be … A seeker! The high-whistle cut through the cold air, and she fumbled with the drone at her belt, trying to release it and throw it high before –

…

Mal pushed the sheet from across himself.

…

"No," she whispered, tossing and turning, her body heated to an unbearable degree. "No!" she shouted, reaching to push something away.

Mal rolled over, trying to pull the vestiges of consciousness together. "Frey?"

She didn't wake, her hair soaked with sweat.

"Frey!" He touched her, almost burning his hand on her skin. She threw out an arm, her fist just missing colliding with his head until he grabbed for her, holding her against him, careful not to press on the baby. "Frey, wake up!"

She shuddered, fighting him, her breath coming in short gulps as if she was drowning.

"Gorram it, Frey! You wake up right now or I'm calling the doc!" Mal shouted in her ear, fear washing through him.

She whimpered, trembling, pulling away from him, then collapsing back against his body as if all her bones had turned to water. Still she didn't wake.

Now Mal was really scared. He laid her gently back against the pillow and scrambled to the com.

"Simon! Get your ass down here now!"

…

Mal shot awake, his mouth dry, his eyes staring into the darkness. Wuh de mah, but that was real. Just a dream, but so …

He swung his legs from the bed and stepped to the com.

"Hank, you there?"

"If you mean have I gone to bed yet to spend some time with my beautiful Zoe, no. So, yes, technically I'm –"

"Wave Persephone," Mal interrupted. "Get hold of Frey."

"What? Why?"

"Just do it."

"Okay."

Mal pulled on his pants and grabbed his shirt, up the ladder and into the corridor before he even put it on. He ran to the bridge.

Hank was staring at the screen.

"Well?" Mal demanded.

"I can't."

"What?"

"I can't get through. There's a total blackout."

"Hank –"

"I'm just getting this same message, over and over." He pressed a button and a disembodied voice filled the bridge.

'… has been placed under quarantine by Federal order. All vessels are ordered to stay at least 20,000 kilometres distant until further notice. Any vessel approaching the planet without proper authorisation will be fired upon. This is the first and only warning. Persephone has been placed under quarantine by Federal order. All vessels –"

Hank switched it off.