CHAPTER 12

"Just what the hell'd ya think you were doin', anyway?" Mal asked. "Any of this gets broke, we're in for a world'a hurt from the buyers, and we may never see another job from Badger. An' you, Zoë? How could you just sit there and let them desecrate our cargo?"

The First Mate didn't even jump down from the crate she sat on. She gave Mal her unapologetic face, and said, "Don't know what came over me, sir. They just looked so cute, I couldn't help myself."

Kaylee and River giggled at the Captain's put-out expression. River hopped up from her seat on the floor where she, Kaylee, and Angel had been playing dress-up with the theatrical costumes and props they were delivering to Paquin, and went to Zoë's side. She stood up on her toes and kissed the first mate on the cheek. Zoë laughed.

Mal snorted. "How 'bout my crew gets back to doin' their jobs? Lil' Albatross, the bridge is yours."

She stuck her tongue out at him before starting for the stairs. Mal shooed her off, then turned to the other two. "Kaylee, you see to the engine room or whatever needs fixin'. Zoë…go yell at Jayne."

"Why for am I gettin' yelled at?" Jayne demanded as he walked into the cargo bay. He was dressed in a white tank top and had his towel thrown around his neck.

Mal looked over his shoulder at him. "I dunno. What've ya done today to deserve it?"

"Nothin'." He walked over to Angel and Kaylee still seated on the floor, and bent to pick up the baby. Jayne straightened and tossed a squealing Angel above his head.

"Don't throw her!" River yelled at him from the landing.

"You keep shoutin' an' I really will drop her," Jayne warned.

River continued up the stairs, but she kept her eyes on Jayne. Before she disappeared onto the upper level of the ship, she called out, "Zoë, if he drops her, you shoot him. Not lethal, but make sure it's somewhere that hurts."

"Hey!"

"Will do," Zoë promised.

"So much for you two getting' along," Mal pointed out.

River called back, "That was nearly two weeks ago, Captain."

Jayne nodded his agreement. A full week of absolute peace between him and River was a stretch of the imagination. More than that was out of the question. One always did something to annoy the other. There might be a period where they didn't bother each other, but they seemed to instinctually know that getting under the other's skin was the proper order of the universe.

After a few more minutes of what River termed "kamikaze flight lessons," Jayne handed an air-silly Angel back to Kaylee and went over to his weight bench. The mechanic kissed her cheek, and set her in the playpen she'd jerry-rigged for Angel out of spare piping and some old insulated electrical cord. She gave Angel the little bear with a bell inside that the girl liked to prattle to and shake to keep her occupied, and went back to cleaning up her and River's little mess.

Mal stayed by his first mate to discuss the upcoming drop. It was a short discussion, consisting mainly of Mal's usual planning method and Zoë's, "Yes, sir." It didn't take much planning, though. The job, despite its source, was legit. The drama company on Persephone that had the costumes and props first got an endowment when the director's rich mistress died, so they ordered all new stuff. The buyers on Paquin ordered the props from the original company, already had the credits transferred, and only had to pay Serenity for shipping charges, of which Badger got fifteen percent. It was a hefty shipping charge.

River's voice over the com echoed in the bay. "Zoë. You have a WAVE. From New Melbourne."

Mal frowned at the woman beside him, and asked, "Wasn't Wash from New Melbourne?"

Zoë's face was soldier-blank. "That he was, sir."

"Better go see what they want, then."

"Going now, sir."

Zoë had only met Wash's family once. It was just after they got married, and her new husband took her home to meet his relatives. His mother, Anita, had died the first year Wash was away at flight school, but Seamus Washburn was alive and breaking jokes on his son's head for marrying without his family there to see it. A year or so later, Seamus passed on as well. Both parents went because of chronic bronchitis brought on by the thick pollution.

Wash did have one brother. Hugh Washburn was a few years older than Wash, and married. Zoë remembered stories of how the two of them worked on their father's fishing boat growing up. That was where Wash had honed his skills as a pilot and navigator, later transferring his talent to space ships instead of watercraft.

New Melbourne was a planet predominately made up of ocean. It hadn't been the best candidate for terraformation thanks to the planet's native atmosphere of carbon monoxide and methane, and not even the best air processors could remove all of the naturally occurring smog. The factory smoke from the original industries people tried to put up on the planet officially sent the air quality down the tubes.

The only thing the planet was good for was deep sea fishing. The oceans were so vast that the acid rain was diluted, and the fish could live. Some species even managed to adapt and thrive. Thank goodness for that, or New Melbourne would have become a black rock.

Zoë made it to the bridge in a tense fog, mentally bracing herself for bad news. River got up from the pilot's seat and quietly exited so that Zoë could take the call privately. On her way out, Zoë thought she'd heard the girl whisper, "It's time."

Shrugging the cryptic message off, Zoë took her seat and pushed the button to accept the WAVE. The screen showed a short, balding man. His narrow slanted eyes were deeply creased at the edges.

"Mrs. Zoë Washburn? I'm Izumi Makino, the solicitor for Hugh and Deborah Washburn."

Definitely not good, she thought. "Their solicitor?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Washburn; your brother- and sister-in-law have passed away."

The fine lines that started appearing around Zoë's eyes after her husband died deepened slightly at the news, but no other sign betrayed her sorrow. She hadn't known Hugh or Deb well, but she remembered that they were sweet people whom she liked. Hugh had the same sense of humor that Wash inherited from their father. Deb was quiet when first introduced to new people, but warmed up after an hour or so.

"What happened to them?"

"A house fire," Mr. Makino said. "It started in the wall of their bedroom. Faulty wiring ignited the insulation. It was a slow burn; most of the house was actually intact when the fire department got there. Mr. and Mrs. Washburn died of smoke inhalation in their bed. It was a neighbor who saw the smoke coming from under the siding who reported the fire."

Zoë swallowed to try and alleviate her suddenly dry throat. "Thank you for telling me. When…when is the funeral? I'll do my best to get there. I don't…should I be the one making arrangements? Is there anyone else? Is that why you called?"

"There's not anyone else," the solicitor hedged, visibly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. "You don't need to worry about the funeral. Hugh had most of his things in order. It was required by the company he worked for, you see. Very risky business working in the harbor's metal shop. But I didn't WAVE only to tell you of your relatives deaths, Mrs. Washburn."

"Then what did you need to tell me?"

"You see, they left you something—two something's. Or, more accurately, they left them to your husband, but I understand that he passed on recently, as well. My condolences a second time."

Now Zoë visibly winced. It would be a year this August. Three more months and the one year anniversary of the signal's release, and Wash's death, would be observed. She still couldn't get used to how big her bed felt. But that wasn't any of this man's business. "What exactly did they leave?"

"Do you recall that your late husband was named godfather of Hugh and Deborah's son, Donald Reginald Washburn?" Mr. Makino asked.

She nodded, vaguely recalling Wash getting the notice that his brother had named him godfather. He had been thrilled. He sent his new nephew/godson two of his dinosaurs. When she saw how excited he was about his nephew, Zoë started wanting kids of her own.

"Apparently, Hugh took the traditional role of godparent seriously," the lawyer continued. "He named his younger brother, Hoban Douglas Washburn, legal guardian of the minor child, Donald Washburn, incase of both his parents unexpected termination. When your husband died, all rights and responsibilities to the child passed to you, Mrs. Washburn."

"Oh, wo de ma," Zoë murmured.

River's voice from months ago back on Kerry when Angel nearly became a Danvers echoed in her mind. You'll hold him before the year is out…it won't be the way you think…

"Mrs. Washburn?"

Zoë opened eyes she didn't realize she'd shut. The little man frowned at her through the screen.

"You do have the option of not claiming him," he explained. "If you don't take the boy, he'll go to foster care, and hopefully be placed into a permanent situation or adopted. We have a fairly decent child care system here on New Melbourne."

"It's not that I don't want him, Mr. Makino," Zoë assured him. "It's just that it's complicated. I live on a transport ship. I'm not sure what the captain would say to my bringing a child onboard."

That was a lie. She knew exactly what Mal would say. She'd talk him into it, though. She would get Mal to agree somehow. There was no way Zoë was leaving her nephew to the mercy of the foster care system. Sure, there were probably lots of children who got placed in good homes and lived their lives happy and normal, but Zoë had heard the life stories of too many soldiers and drunken thugs who were placed in crowded two-bedroom homes with five or six other kids, and were treated like dirt or ignored. She would not willingly throw a two or three year old boy into the impersonal hands of the government.

God, I don't even really know how old he is, Zoë realized.

"If you could give me a half-an-hour to make arrangements, I'll call you right back," she promised.

"Of course, Mrs. Washburn," Mr. Makino agreed. "I'll await your WAVE."

Before the solicitor disconnected, Zoë yelled, "Wait!"

The man jumped. "Yes?"

"You said Hugh and Deb left me—Wash—two things," she reminded him. "What was the other?"

"Ah, yes." He searched through computer slips on his desk until he found the correct one. "The late Mr. and Mrs. Washburn leave you with a total of 17,200 credits from their insurance policies to use in raising their son."

Seventeen thousand….That was a nice chunk of cash to receive all at once. Serenity only cost Mal 3,550 credits. But if she was going to be responsible for raising a child, how fast would that money go? What happened if he needed braces? Or glasses? Should she put some in a college fund?

"Thank you, Mr. Makino. I'll see you in thirty minutes."

Zoë reached out and pressed the though pad on the screen to disconnect. She took a deep breath and swiveled the chair around. "How much of that did you hear?"

Mal walked up the last few steps to the cockpit. "Most of it. Wanted to follow right away, but River said something about timing and things coming together to add up to the original sum….Took me a minute to decide I didn't much care."

She shook her head.

"Which part did you walk in on?" she asked.

"The part where you're now the sole relation of a minor child," he mocked the lawyer's jargon.

"Wash's older brother and his wife died in a house fire," Zoë reported. "Their son was born a few years ago. Two or three, I think. Wash was godfather, and Hugh made him legal guardian, too. Since Wash is gone, that means I get custody."

"The kid doesn't have grandparents or anything to go to?"

"Not that I know of. There was only Hugh and Wash on his side, and Deb was an only child. Both of Wash's parents are dead. If Donald has surviving grandparents on his mother's side, the solicitor didn't say."

Mal sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You won't turn the kid over to foster care, I'm guessin'."

"Not if I can help it, sir."

"Well then…it looks like we got ourselves a new junior member of the crew."

"Thank you, Mal."

Mal smiled. "Who knows? Maybe he can take over my job one day."

He stepped up to the consol and pulled out the planetary maps and route charts. "How far off course is our detour to New Melbourne gonna take us?"

"New Melbourne is seven/twelfths of the way through its orbit," River announced.

Mal and Zoë jumped and turned to find the pilot leaning against the door jam like a propped up rag doll.

"We reach Paquin in another seventy-nine hours. With a few modifications to the spare shuttle it would be able to hold enough fuel so that Zoë would be able to disembark from Serenity in fifty-three hours, fly straight to New Melbourne, and pick up Donald Washburn. You'd have to wait for us to come get you after we drop the goods."

"Great," Mal said. He was still a little jumpy after River's silent approach. He shook it off and looked at his first mate. "So, Zoë? How's that for a plan?"

"That'll do just fine, sir. I'll go tell Kaylee she needs to make a few adjustments to the shuttle."

She practically ran off the bridge placing a hand on River's shoulder as she left. The younger woman smiled after her before she turned back to the Captain. Serious now, River told him, "Simon needs to go with Zoë. She won't understand all the medical directions the doctors will give her."

Mal frowned. "How do ya know the boy's hurt?"

River gave him her What are you, stupid? look.

"Deductive logic. The boy's parents died in a fire," she repeated. "One could assume that their son was home with them at the time, as he is still a toddler. It's likely that, though he survived, he is not unharmed."

"Point taken," the Captain conceded. "Go tell your brother he's goin' on a trip. I'll tell Zoë when she gets back up here to WAVE the lawyer."

River sailed away down the corridor, her bare feet not even eliciting a twang of the rebar she strode over. Mal sat down in the pilot's seat and stared out into the black. After a long, quiet moment, he grabbed the Tyrannosaurus Rex off the consol and fiddled with it. Mal looked the plastic dino in the eye.

"Well, Wash. Looks like Zoë gets her child after all, thanks to you. Even dead, you manage to clutter up my ship with little people."

&&&

"As I'm sure you've all heard by now, Zoë's nephew is comin' to live with us. I don't know what kinda shitty background check they ran that okayed it, but the boy's gonna be here in the next few days. Doc is gonna go with Zoë to get little Donald—"

"Dewey, sir," Zoë interrupted.

"Shun muh?"

"I went through some of Wash's letters from home to figure out how old the boy is," she admitted. "He's three now. Donald is his full name, but they called him Dewey for short. Donald seemed like too big a name for a baby to have to carry around."

Mal shook his head. "What is it with the Washburn's that they couldn't name their children somethin' normal? Hoban, Hugh, Dewey…."

"That is one'a the dumbest names I ever heard," Jayne muttered loud enough that everyone could hear.

"Jayne—"

He spun on River and jabbed a finger in her direction. "Don't! I swear, I'm 'ginnin' ta think…"

Jayne glared suspiciously at River, but she just smiled innocently, and bounced Angel on her lap.

"Hey!" Mal called out. "Captain talking. Pay attention." He waited while his crew settled down. "As I was sayin', Doc, you're goin' with Zoë to pick up…Dewey. Boy's like to have some burns on him from the fire. Zoë's gonna be busy signin' papers and whatnot, so you have a physician's powwow and see what care he'll need once he gets to the ship. Jayne'll be goin' with me to drop off the cargo once we land on Paquin. Kaylee, Albatross, the ship'll be yours for a few hours. Try to keep her intact.

"'Nara? You got any plans once we hit atmo?"

The Companion looked up at Mal's guarded, wary expression. She gave him an open smile and said, "Actually, I was hoping I could accompany you and the cargo. The Rising Theater's director, Doreen Cooper, is a long time friend of mine. It would be lovely to see her again."

"She ever a client?" Jayne leered, his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth.

Inara rolled her eyes. "I told you once, Jayne. I don't discuss my clients. But no, she wasn't one. She trained briefly at House Madrassa before she found that the theater was more her calling than being a Companion."

River reached over and smacked Jayne on the arm. "You're hopeless."

"Ow." He rubbed at the reddening spot on his arm. "What?"

&&&

The cargo exchange went well. Inara went with the Captain to meet with her friend, and Mal swore up and down when he got back that she had tried use her wiles on him to get her friend a discounted fee. Kaylee snickered to River and said, "I bet he just notices every time she blinks, an' he thinks she's battin' her eyelashes at him."

The Captain and Ms. Cooper did negotiate the price, and Mal took the figure down from the original transport fee. Jayne griped about losing part of his ten percent. River rolled her eyes when she heard him complaining as he entered his bunk. She waited for the Captain's cue, and then lifted off to head straight for New Melbourne.

"Honestly, Angel," she told the baby in her playpen by the console. "The way the ape-man goes on, you'd think we did the job for free. His ten percent is down by a measly few creds. Hardly anything."

Just means he'll have to forego buying sex wholesale and go for the blow job, she thought nastily. Not that she cared. It really wasn't her business how he spent his money, or on whom, doing what. She just wished he'd stop complaining so loudly about his inability to pay for anything decent.

River's mind stayed on those unpleasant thoughts during the entire five hour flight at hard burn to New Melbourne. Halfway through, Angel started getting bored and fussy. Inara heard her from the galley, and offered to take Angel for a while. River agreed, both hands on the yoke, as Kaylee's engine room feats provided full burn. When they arrived, she WAVED Simon and Zoë in the second shuttle. She notified them of Serenity making her imminent entrance through the dense atmosphere, and could hear a child wailing in the background.

"We have enough fuel left to meet you at the docks," Simon told her.

"No rushing necessary," River said. "We need to refuel while we're here. How's Dewey?"

Simon took a deep breath, looked over his shoulder, and said, "He's actually in good shape for what he's lived through. He has second and third degree burns on his legs and part of his back. Probably because he tried to get away from the fire by curling up in a ball on his bed. The next few weeks are going to be hell because every night we'll have to give him a bath to wash off the flaking skin, and to keep the burns clean so they don't turn septic. We've already had that particular joy twice, and let me tell you, it only gets more fun."

He shook his head. "After helping with those baths, I did something I almost never do. I went out and bought myself and Zoë a couple of beers just to help dull the strain. This is part of the reason I became a surgeon, not a general practitioner. Believe me when I tell you that Dewey's not easy to handle when he's in pain."

"He'll be alright," River said.

"He'll have scars for the rest of his life," Simon said, "but they'll will fade as he gets older. And, considering what happened to his parents, he's a very lucky little boy."

River didn't think her brother knew a half of how true that statement was. Dewey wasn't only lucky to be alive, but to be young enough that he wouldn't remember it as he grew up. He would remember stories told about his parents and his coming to Serenity, but the actual events would be blurred by time.

"We'll see you in thirty minutes," she promised, and disconnected the signal.

"Zoë and your brother ready to come home?" Mal asked from the doorway.

"They are."

"How's the little 'un?" Mal settled himself in the copilot's chair, content to let his Albatross fly.

"The boy is in pain, and he's scared. He misses his mother and father. Doesn't understand why they're not taking care of him. Doesn't know who Zoë is. It will take time to adjust."

"Yeah, for us, too." He looked around noting the empty play pen. "Where's the princess today?"

"With Inara, having a tea party." River smiled over at him as they hit atmo. "If you can keep from insulting Inara for more than five minutes, I'm sure they'd love to have a guest stop buy."

He chuckled, and stood up again. "You know, I may just do that. Let me know when we land."

"Yes, sir," River responded.

&&&

The shuttle docked twelve minutes after Serenity settled into St. Michael's Space and Air Docking Port. Simon slid open the door of shuttle two so that Zoë could keep both arms around the toddler in her arms. It was difficult carrying the boy with his legs and back in pain, but the same problem arose when he was set down to walk. At least when Zoë held him, one arm on his upper back and shoulders, the other cradling his knees and lower legs, Dewey didn't have a panic attack. It was good for Zoë that he was such a skinny little thing.

He was so scared that all he could do was cling to her and cry. One hand was curled into a fist in Zoë's hair, and the other gripped the sleeve of her loose purple shirt. Dewey's face was nearly as red as his hair which itself was somewhere just to the side of fire's orange-red. Add that to the pale skin and slight build, and he was identifiably a Washburn.

The crew gathered on the catwalk outside the shuttle's locking doors. They moved back as Zoë and Dewey stepped out. Mal went forward and looked the boy over.

"So this our new crew member?"

"It is."

Simon walked out of the shuttle and went straight to Kaylee. He kissed her hello, although they weren't apart for more than day, and then turned to check on River. She smiled her approval of his hello order, and in acknowledgement that she was fine. Simon nodded in response, and grabbed Angel's hand and shook to greet her as well.

He turned to the Captain and said, "I told Zoë it might be a good idea if she and Dewey slept down in the vacant passenger dorms for the next few weeks. It would be easier than trying to struggle with him down the ladder of her bunk."

"Prob'ly best," Mal granted.

While the grown-ups talked, Angel looked at the person in Tall Lady's arms. He was little, like she was. She had never seen anyone of comparable size before. There was the whiney being on the planet with the lady who smelled like Pretty Lady's smoking sticks, but Angel hadn't gotten a good look. This person was home with her, and she didn't know what to make of it.

He was making lots of loud noises, too, like he had a smelly, slippery diaper. Or maybe more like the time Angel got her fingers caught in a cabinet Mum-um was closing. To make it better, Mum-um stuck her fingers under cold water, kissed them, and gave her Jingle Bear. Jingle Bear was Angel's oldest friend, since the first place she'd lived, and he always made her feel better when she felt bad. All she had to do was shake him, and the pretty noise came from inside.

Angel held up her bear and asked, "Mu?"

River cocked her head at her daughter then looked at Dewey. Pretty sure she had Angel's intentions right, she walked over so that the girl could try to hand the bear to the screaming boy.

Bloodshot blue eyes opened and glared at Angel. The girl offered her Jingle Bear to Dewey. He never stopped his whining cries, but he switched his glare over to the bear.

"Oh, that's so cute!" Kaylee gushed.

Angel gurgled her invitation to partake of Jingle Bear's comfort, and after a few seconds of hesitation, Dewey accepted the bear. His face twisted in meanness, and he screeched as he pitched Jingle Bear over the rail of the catwalk. Angel watched as down, down, down the bear fell. He hit the bay floor with a jangling thud, the plastic bead nose sounding like a tiny gunshot as it echoed.

She looked at where her bear landed. She looked at Dewey. Angel started sobbing, and buried her face into her mother's neck.

Jayne, forgetting about the boy's burns in his eagerness to defend Angel, raised a hand to swat the boy's rear, and growled at Dewey, "You little twerp!"

"Jayne!" Zoë warned.

"He threw her bear," he argued.

"He's three," Kaylee said. "You can't hit a three-year-old. 'Sides, he's hurt enough as it is."

River placed a hand on Jayne's arm. "In a round of fisticuffs, you would undoubtedly win. Let it go."

He looked back at her, and let his hand relax out of its fist. "Yeah, well, that ain't the point. He shouldn't'a thrown her bear."

"I'll be sure to have a talk with him about it," Zoë snarled. "It'll have'ta be after I get done giving him a bath where I rip off the dead skin from his burns, though. Or maybe after I get done trying to explain why his own mother isn't here to hold him and tuck him in. It might even have to wait until tomorrow when he realizes he's not going home. But don't you worry, Jayne. I'll set him straight about Angel's bear."

Mal quietly took charge. "Kaylee, think you can help Zoë move some of her stuff out of her bunk and down to the Shepherd's old room?"

"Sure, Cap." She leaned up and kissed Simon's cheek before leading Zoë up the stairs to the crew's bunks.

River rubbed her chin against Angel's hair. "Let's go get Jingle Bear while Zoë and Dewey settle into their new rooms. Jayne?"

"Huh?"

"Come please?"

He shrugged. "Fine."

River wanted to give Jayne a little space from his new opponent. She thought it was sweet when Jayne jumped in to protect Angel, but his tendency to end all confrontations with force would do more damage than help in this situation. Besides, eventually Angel would need to learn to resolve her own problems, not wait for her merc-in-cargos-and-T-shirt to come to her rescue.

Once down on bay floor, Jayne bent down, and picked up Jingle Bear. He handed it to Angel, who took her bear back gladly, though she still sniffled into River's hair. "Here ya go. Now, you stay away from that lil' mini hundan. He's mean."

"He's hurt," River corrected. "His pain causes him to lash out."

"He don't gotta be lashin' out at defenseless little girls. He just met her. What in the tian xio de did Angel ever do to him? An' then everybody's lookin' at me like I'm some sorta child-beater. Wasn' gonna hurt him, just smack him around a little so he knows not to do it again. It's what my Pa always did."

River rubbed her daughter's back, but couldn't help feel Dewey's pain, whirling confusion, and deep sadness washing through the ship. "Dewey is in pain, far away from home with no family, a new mother he doesn't know, and a ship full of strangers. This is a different situation than a normal child acting cruelly to another. We must give him time."

"How much time?"

"Long as it takes."