It was … odd. A feeling of moving, but he wasn't. And something on his chest. Not too heavy , just … persistent. He opened his eyes to slits. Odd, that, too. Seemed to be on a boat, surrounded by sails. Been on one of them once. One of those new-fangled ships with sails so fine they could catch the solar wind. Not that he cared about that. Had rich pickings, though. Enough to get drunk for a month. And almost wear out his John Thomas. These sails seemed to be made of plastic, though.

He moved his head, trying to figure out exactly where in diyu he was. Funny. He expected it to hurt somehow, but all he felt was an ache, all kinda fuzzy. Like he'd had one too many Mudder's Milk.

He tried to focus on whatever was on his chest. Looked like a head. Long dark hair. Seemed familiar, like maybe he should be running his fingers through that hair, making the owner call out his name …

Moved. The head moved. Not much, just as if making itself more comfortable. And a word popped into his mind.

"River."

She wasn't sure she'd heard. That it wasn't just her imagination giving her what she craved so much. She listened carefully, hearing the heartbeat under her cheek getting stronger.

"Moonbrain."

No. That had to be real. Only one person called her that …

She lifted her head, turned to look at him.

"Oh, Jayne," she whispered, her heart wanting to burst from the joy at seeing his blue eyes looking right at her. A tear slid down her cheek, followed by another, then a third, until they were dripping off her nose, her chin …

"Hey, what you crying for?" Jayne asked, lifting a hand that seemed to weigh a tonne to wipe them away. "I ain't dead. Least, not 'less this is heaven, and I don't think I'm bound for there. Some place bit hotter, far as I can see."

"Jayne …" She couldn't help it. The tears wouldn't stop, but neither would the huge grin on her face as she reached over and touched his lips, his nose, running fingertips across his forehead, his cheeks. "Jayne."

"Girl, you keep this up and I'll be joining you," he said, managing to smile a little. "What the gorram hell happened about me?"

Her fingers fluttered over the dressing on the side of his head. "Nearly died. Nearly left me. Can't leave me. Won't let you."

"If'n I knew what you were talking about maybe I'd have something to say about it, but …" He coughed dryly. "Got any water in this place?"

She sprang to her feet, holding a bottle to his lips in a moment. "Drink. A little."

He felt the cool liquid slip down his throat, travelling a long way inside his chest. "Where are we, anyway?" he asked.

"Our shuttle, silly." She put her hand to his forehead, and suddenly he felt more refreshed than if he'd drunk the whole bottle.

He peered round at the plastic sheets. "Yeah? You been decorating again?"

"Pinks walls and a purple floor," she said solemnly.

"You know, there's gonna be a day I come back from a job, and that's what I'm gonna find, ain't it?"

"Probably," she agreed.

"So you gonna tell me what's been going on?"

"So much to say …"

"We got Bethie's friend back yet?"

Her face fell. "Not yet."

"Figured maybe I got shot going in and rescuing her."

"No." She fingered the dressing again.

"Better you tell it to me straight, girl."

She nodded.

---

"Why didn't you say something before?" Zoe said, striding towards of Serenity. She'd been silent for a while, but now couldn't contain the anger building up inside her any longer. "When you joined us."

"He's a friend of hers. We had no way of knowing something might happen to her." Simon was having to do a half-jog to keep up. "I mean, Kaylee was worried that she was going alone, but … she insisted."

"Where?"

"East Hanover Tower."

Zoe looked up into the star-filled sky. "We'll never find sign of her tonight. But maybe that Han knows where she went after seeing him."

"We need Mal," Hank put in. "Sorry, honey. I ain't impugning your leadership skills or anything, but in my experience rich people prefer to talk to captains, not first mates."

"Hank's right," Freya put in. "I'm going back to that bar, see if I can't persuade the bartender to volunteer the information to the judge."

"Won't the deputies be doing that?" Simon asked.

"They ain't gonna be looking that hard," Zoe said. "Or that fast. Far as they're concerned, Mal's just another itch that they're gonna enjoy scratching." She shook her head, seeing the dark bulk of the Firefly coming up. "You're right, Frey. Best you take Hank and -"

"She's already gone," the pilot said, jerking his head over his shoulder to where the woman had disappeared into the night.

"Then you'd better get after her. Keep her out of trouble."

"Frey?" Hank raised his eyebrows.

"Try."

Hank nodded and jogged off after the captain's wife.

"No wonder Mal keeps going on about things not going smooth," Zoe added, starting up the cargo bay ramp.

River was waiting for them, and without preamble she said, "Simon, he's awake!" She was almost vibrating with joy.

"He is?" Simon grinned and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "That's wonderful!"

"Really?"

"Really." He leaned back enough to look into her eyes. "Mei-mei, he makes you happy. No matter what else I may think, I want you to be happy."

"I am."

Kaylee ran out onto the catwalk and hurried down the stairs. "Jayne's awake?" she asked, wiping her hands on her rag.

"Just now," River confirmed.

"I'd better go check him over," Simon said. "Probably better if we could get him to the infirmary, then I can take some proper scans." He smiled as Kaylee hugged them both, leaving grease stains on their clothes.

"How much longer until Serenity's up and running again?" Zoe asked the young mechanic.

Kaylee let go of her husband and sister, and wiped a hand across her forehead, streaking the grease already there. "'Bout another eight hours. I'll carry on working, but -"

"No. You get some sleep." Zoe lifted the young woman's chin. "You're tired out as it is, and the captain won't be too pleased if I let you work yourself into the ground."

"I'm fine," Kaylee protested.

"No. Grab some food, then take a few hours downtime. That's an order."

"You ain't Mal, Zoe."

"No, but I'm in charge while he's gone." She softened her tone. "You won't do anyone any good if you make a mistake in putting that purifier in."

"Well, no," Kaylee grudgingly agreed. "But just a couple of hours."

"Good." She turned to the doctor. "Simon, you too."

"Once I've got Jayne to the infirmary."

"Can he walk?"

"Better if he doesn't. The extra pressure -"

"Then we'll carry him."

"Just the two of us?"

Zoe smiled a little. "Why, you got something better you want to do?"

---

"Hold your horses, I'm coming!" The desk clerk fumbled with the keys. "Do you have any idea what time it is? Getting a man out of a nice doze just when he's dreaming about … that ain't the way to do things!" He managed to get the door open. "What do you want?"

A tall woman with short brown hair stepped into the light. "To see Judge Lesserman."

"Are you kidding me?" The clerk laughed. "He's tucked up in a nice warm bed right now, and there is no way I'm going to disturb him at this hour."

Freya glanced over her shoulder at the pink flushing the night sky. "It's nearly dawn."

"Well, not nearly enough. Come back in the morning." He tried to close the door but she was in the way, leaning on it.

"I've got proof."

"Proof of what?" He glared at her. "And get your foot out of the door."

"That Malcolm Reynolds is innocent."

"Great. Come back in the morning and I'm sure the judge will be pleased to hear your petition."

"I'm not going anywhere. And you're going to call the judge right now."

"Lady, I value my job. It's the only one I've got. And I'm not going to be doing anything stupid like getting a judge out of bed before daylight."

"I'll make a fuss."

"Make it."

"I'd truly reconsider that," said a man coming out of the shadows, his hands clasped in front of him. "You have no idea the kind of fuss she can make. It's pretty nasty. Gruesome, even. And the body parts …"

Freya put her hand on his arm. "Hank, get back to the ship. Tell them I'll be bringing Mal home soon."

"You sure?" He looked at her, his grey eyes colourless in the light. "I can stay, be moral support -"

"Go on. I'm sure this gentleman's about to see sense." She smiled at him. "I'll be fine."

"Okay then." Hank backed up, but waited on the edge of the light.

The clerk looked from one to the other, trying to figure out what the right, and - to be honest - the less troublesome thing to do was.

"Jim, that you?" Another man stepped out of the darkness, one that at least he thought recognised, and there were shades of maybe another three or four behind him.

"Dobie?"

The barman from The Lusty Redhead grinned. "Yep, it's me. Look, Jim, just call the judge. If he says anything just tell him it's some of his voters out here, and if he wants to get re-elected next year he needs to get his ass down here right now."

"Dobie, he's gonna kill me."

"Now, that ain't likely. And if he does we'll string him up too."

---

Jayne struggled to get himself onto his elbows, but it showed how weak he truly was when Simon was able to push him back against the pillow with no effort.

"Doc, this is crazy. I coulda walked here," the big man insisted.

"And possibly given yourself a stroke at the same time. That would just put the icing on the cake, wouldn't it?"

"Cake?"

"It's an expression," River said softly.

"Hell, I know that. Just thinking that I feel hungry."

Simon smiled a little. "That's good. It means your body is trying to get back to normal."

"Jayne isn't normal," River added.

"I did say trying."

The big man looked aggrieved. "Hey, I'm kinda here, ya know."

"What, all of you?" Hank asked, leaning in from the common area, having just arrived back and heard the voices.

"I could still take you outside and beat the crap out of you," Jayne warned.

"And it appears he's still the same fluffy teddy bear we've all grown to love," the pilot said, grinning.

"Where's Frey?" Zoe asked.

"Getting the Cap. She says she'll have him home before breakfast." Hank scratched his head, making his hair stand up even more. "Talking of which, is there any coffee on the go?"

"Probably. It might be a bit strong."

"How I like it." He grinned and headed up the stairs.

"Can you keep Jayne under control?" Zoe asked Simon.

"I think I can manage," the young doctor said dryly.

"I'll help," River put in.

"Good." Zoe followed her fiancé, catching him up at the first turn of the stairs. "So what's Freya up to?"

"Oh, just talked those witnesses into going to see the judge."

"She threaten them?"

"No, actually she was very restrained. Most unlike her."

"I think she's trying a different approach."

Hank grinned over his shoulder. "Yeah, well, truth is I don't think I'd've wanted to be around if this one hadn't worked. She was getting pretty het up."

"Her husband's in jail. I'd feel the same way."

"So when I get thrown inside you'll come and rescue me?"

"I'd seriously think about it."

"Now that's not fair. I'd give up my life for you."

"And I've already said I'll marry you. Do I have to break you out of jail too?"

"If you loved me you would."

As they reached the top deck, a beeping noise filtered down the corridor.

"What's that?" Zoe asked, the sound interrupting them.

"Not sure." Hank ran to the bridge. "It's an emergency com signal."

"Whose?"

"No way of knowing. Except it's …" He turned his head sharply towards her. "I think it might be Inara's."

"Why?"

"It's weak, it's a long way off, and nobody else is likely to be using this frequency but us, and as nobody's actually speaking …"

"Inara."

"Yeah."

"Can you track it? Figure out where she is?"

"I'm working on it …" He flicked switches and played an arpeggio across the keys. "Yeah. Got it." He pointed to the screen. "Right there."

"Get the shuttle prepped. I'll let Simon and Kaylee know where we're going."

---

Judge Lesserman was not the happiest of men. To be called out of his warm bed, forced halfway across town, and now confronted by half a dozen of the good citizens of Medusa was not doing his ulcer any good.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked yet again.

"Yes, your Honour." The bartender nodded. "Clyde shot first. No doubt about that. I figure maybe Chen and this man here fired about the same time, but Clyde was definitely the guilty party. This feller wasn't even threatening them."

"I see." The judge rubbed his hand across his face and through his hair. "Well, that pretty much seems cut and dried." His gaze travelled across the witnesses. "Thank you, gentlemen. You'd better be all getting home now." He waited until they'd left, then turned to the woman who had been sitting next to them. "Mrs Reynolds."

Freya stood up. "Yes, sir."

"Just how did you manage to get those men here at this time of the night?"

"I asked nicely."

"Hmmn." He chewed the inside of his lip in thought, then turned once more to the man in the dock. "Captain Reynolds, since we appear to have corroboration that the two decedents did in fact shoot first, I am inclined to let you go." Judge Lesserman leaned back in his chair. "But killing folk is killing folk, and that's a fact, no matter how much you want to dress it up in pigtails and call it self-defence."

"Believe me, sir, I never intended killing either of those men," Mal asserted.

"Yes, well, that's as maybe. But you did, and I don't want you in my town. Medusa has a reputation to keep, Captain. The people we work for expect a certain level of law, and I get the feeling that if you stay around you're going to be breaking that law, probably quite a bit. So you will leave. Take your ship and get gone from Bellerophon."

"Sir, I would, but we had to put in for repairs, and as much of a genius as my mechanic is, she ain't no miracle worker."

"How long?"

"Maybe a day. Two at the outside."

"You have twenty-four hours, Captain. Otherwise I'll be sending these gentlemen to bring you back in front of me for contempt of court. And no amount of sweet talking will keep you out of jail if that occurs."

"Yes, sir, your Honour."

Judge Lesserman went to raise his gavel, but paused. "You know, I can't help feeling there's more to this than meets the eye. You care to enlighten me?"

Mal gazed at the man in the robes, then shook his head. No matter that he was tempted to tell about what they feared, what they thought they knew, the judge was right. It was the people with money, their clientele that called the shots. A word in the wrong ear and he'd never find Hermione. Or the other girls. "No sir," he said firmly. "It was just an ordinary misunderstanding between folks."

"Ordinary …" The judge studied the man in the dock. "Somehow not a word that springs to mind where you're concerned." He brought the gavel down on the bench. "Case dismissed."

Before the sound had even died away Mal was out of the dock and embracing his wife.

"Does this mean I won't have to be baking you a pie with a file in it?" she asked, closing her eyes to revel in the feeling.

"With your cooking, who could tell?" Mal teased, then took a sharp breath as her arms tightened on him.

"Oh, Mal, I'm sorry." She let go, putting her hand tenderly on the bruise.

"It's okay, ai ren," he assured her, pulling her back into his embrace. "It's okay."

Judge Lesserman looked down at the pair of them. "Try and keep him out of trouble, Mrs Reynolds," he implored.

"I'll try," she agreed.

The judge shook his head and left the courtroom.

"You don't want to be wasting any of that twenty-four hours," the deputy said, swinging his baton so it smacked into the palm of his hand. "Because if you're just a minute over that, I'll be volunteering to come get you."

"And I'd make sure you were welcomed," Mal said, letting go of Freya and staring at the man.

"You threatening me?" The baton slapped harder.

"Did I sound like I was?" Mal looked at his wife. "Did I?"

The deputy snorted. "You just be careful. We don't like your sort around here."

"No, I got that." He touched his thigh. "What about my gun?"

"Collect it from the man at the desk on your way out." The deputy looked him up and down once more, then slid his eyes over Freya. "Be seeing you, Captain Reynolds." He strolled out, his baton swinging.

"Not if I shoot first," Mal muttered, then put his arm back around his wife's waist. "Come on, before I do something stupid."

"Good idea," Freya agreed. "Although, talking of doing stupid things …"

---

"Inara. Time to wake up." The voice was gentle, soft, and felt familiar. "Come on, sleepyhead. Time to rise and shine." Her eyelids fluttered, and a smile lifted her lips. "Time for you to fulfil your promise."

The smile froze. It wasn't a dream. And that wasn't her father speaking, or her tutor, or Mal …

A hand touched her bare skin and goosebumps erupted. Her eyes flew open. Anthony Han, a man she thought she knew, a man she trusted, was leaning over her, a look on his face that made her shiver.

"You perform well and maybe I won't feel the need to hurt those little girls," he added, his tone silky.

"I … can be whatever you want, Anthony." She felt sick, and licked dry lips. "Whatever you need."

"Really."

"Yes. I can make you feel so -"

He slapped her hard, on the same cheek as before. "No. Not a Companion." He glared at her. "I can and have had as many of those as I wanted. No. This has to be you, Inara. The real you. When I touch you it won't be the Companion. It will be the little girl who walked into that Guild House, not the whore who left. You, Inara. Or I'll slit your throat right now and then spend some time with one of my other playthings."

She shuddered. She wanted desperately to say there was no real Inara anymore, that she'd been consumed by her profession, that there was nothing to give him, but that wouldn't help the girls. Dear God, it wouldn't help Hermione if she was still alive. Instead she nodded. "The real me, Anthony," she agreed, her hands coming up cover her breasts.

He smiled, and stroked his fingers across her shoulder, a travesty of the ardent lover. "Better. Much better." He leaned forward and kissed her collar bone. "Now …"

She turned her face away.