A/N: I wanted to get these guys to a safe harbor before life makes me abandon them again for a little while. (Not forever though! I have plans for this story and shall return as soon as real life permits.)

No particular warnings beyond Firefly-Chinese swearing. Thanks for all the reviews!

"Mayday, mayday, Singer Salvage, come in Singer Salvage, this is Serenity requesting assistance…"

Bobby picked up the blaring comm and squarked twice to signal his presence.

"Serenity, this is Singer, whatcha want?" It was far too late… no, early for this joo fuen chse. Every browncoat worth his jacket knew about the Serenity after the whole Miranda fiasco, but what the ai yah tien ah was that ship doing here?

"Our Stromburg transformer is nonfunctional and we have a crewmember experiencing a medical emergency that requires more specialized facilities," the gal on the other end of the line said with crisp efficiency. For all her professionalism, she didn't sound near old enough to be flyin' a ship. Of course, he'd served with far younger during the War.

"Alright. What's your location?" Bobby flipped on his tracking and monitoring equipment. His little operation was well-masked in the asteroid field, but the Serenity seemed to be making a beeline for him anyway. The only way they could do that was if they already knew exactly where he was. Which wasn't possible, because he'd remember if Serenity had popped by before. And to the best of his knowledge, no one who'd visited him here was flying on her now.

"ETA five minutes, assuming current speed and maneuverability," the pilot replied. "I will be unable to make a standard landing due to various ongoing engine malfunctions. Could you deliver a Stromburg transformer via speeder?"

"Hold on a tick," Bobby pulled off his hat and rubbed his fingers through his thinning hair. "You can't be meaning to install that in-air. You'll blow the whole ship to kingdom come!"

"Kaylee assures me that it can be done, and it is theoretically possible," the unflappable pilot assured him. "Do you have one and can it be delivered?"

"Yeah," he acquiesced. "Although if you damage my facilities I'll…"

"Good," she interrupted before rattling off some coordinates just over his junkyard. Her tone was still neutral, but metallic groaning punctuated her message with a sense of urgency. "We'll be waiting for you. River out."

Bobby blinked at the comm in his hand. River? The River that took out a whole base full of Reavers and made the Alliance shake in it's boots? He'd heard plenty, but he wasn't aware that she could fly a ship as well. Or that she was still a gorram kid.

A few minutes later Bobby docked with what had to be the sorriest-looking Firefly he'd ever seen outside of a scrap heap. This was the famed Serenity? If it wasn't for the sigil painted on the side he would have never believed it.

As soon as he opened the door, he was shoved aside by a man in a blood-splattered white coat pulling a gurney.

"Please tell me you have some medical supplies somewhere in here?" the doctor said without preamble or introduction before yanking open random drawers.

"Bobby Singer, nice to meet you," he grumbled, pulling out the battered med kit from behind the pilot's seat. The physician snatched it without another word and tore it open. If this was the Serenity, and it was River in the cockpit, then this would be Doctor Simon Tam. At least, if Bobby's sources could be believed. And they usually could. The blood-spattered and exhausted-looking man was supposed to be the best trauma surgeon out on the Rim by a light-year, and Bobby was inclined to believe the reports. He'd not seen that particular look of harried competence since the War.

Bobby had to admit that the lady on the table didn't look too good, despite Doc Tam's frantic ministrations. Rusty memory supplied that she must be the first mate, Zoe. There weren't that many women with her reputation among the Browncoat population. If half of what he'd heard was true, then Mal didn't deserve her, not one bit.

The captain himself appeared to be pushing the gurney. He didn't look to be doing much better than Zoe, if his color was anything to judge by.

"Captain Malcolm Reynolds?" Bobby shoved his way around the doc and into Serenity's loading bay. "Care to explain what's going on? Oh, or how you found me?" The haggard man barely opened his mouth before Bobby spotted a familiar face over the captain's shoulder. "Cas? That you?" Well, that certainly answered some questions and raised quite a few more.

"Singer." Damn boy looked exactly as he always did: messy hair and untied trenchcoat and those big blue eyes that knew too damn much and too damn little all at once.

"What…"

"Dean released the Reaver," Cas explained in his usual monotone. Bobby felt the air whoosh out of him in shock. Winchesters on this ship? No wonder things were so humped. He'd not heard from them since they'd left his place after Dean's last relapse, but he knew them well enough to not be surprised that they'd gravitated to a trouble-magnet like the Serenity. Fire, meet rocket fuel. Nothing like a good explosion to make you feel alive of a morning.

"Emma's birth ran into… complications," Cas continued. "The ship requires immediate repairs. Can you assist?" The Serenity rocked suddenly underneath them with a groan matched by Zoe, lending credence to his words.

Bobby closed his eyes and took a deep breath. They were ijits, the lot of them, but the 'verse owed them, and it looked like Bobby was the one that was going to be paying the tab.

"Of course, boy. That's why I'm here," Bobby adjusted his hat and started prioritizing. "I assume Dean and Sam are in the Impala? Get them to park out back, they know the place. Everyone but your mechanic and pilot should get into my speeder and go inside. The door's open and infirmary is straight back behind the red door. If something's locked, or you don't know what it is, don't touch unless you want to lose a hand or worse. Everything else should be self explanatory. I'll stay and help with the engine. Dong ma?"

"Dong ma," Mal's shoulders slumped with relief. The burden of command was a heavy one at the best of times, and this was pretty close to the worst. The poor man looked as if he hadn't slept for a week. Bobby could certainly empathize.

"Now I gotta get these parts to your mechanic," he hefted the bag over his shoulder. "Get to it."

On his way to the engine room he passed a Companion carrying a newborn babe in her shawl. Inara. The Companion's Guild had a lot to say about her, none of it complementary. They were an invaluable source of Core intel, but from what Bobby had heard of the Serenity from elsewhere, he was reasonably sure that her character and behavior did not deserve their reproach. His opinion was confirmed by her protective care of the baby and her somehow still perfectly-coiffed hair.

"Staying in trouble, I see?" Bobby drawled at Jayne as he passed. He'd not seen the kid in years, ever since that debacle on Santo. His ma made the best hooch in the 'verse, and Bobby made sure to keep that particular little secret to himself. The mercenary ducked his head as Inara's eyes widened a fraction. "Ya get that hat your ma sent you?"

"Yessir," Jayne said respectfully, as he should.

"Good. Now get these people settled safe," Bobby ordered. "Don't shoot anything…"

"...that ain't tryin' ta kill us, I know," Jayne finished his sentence. He shot the boy a glare. "Sir," he stammered before hustling the remaining crew into the shuttle.

Ijits, the lot of them. Bobby rolled his eyes as he climbed up the stairs. Smoke was starting to billow out of the engine room.

"'Bout gorram time!" A grease-smeared lass snatched his bag of parts and disappeared into the cloud. This must be the infamous Kaylee. Bobby followed her into the heart of the dying ship.

"Juh shi suh mo go dohng shee?!" he swore behind his upraised hand. It was a totally ineffectual defense against the pervading smoke, but he couldn't help himself. He'd seen some messes in his life, hell, he'd made plenty in his time. But this was something else.

"Stop starin' and start helpin'!" Kaylee threw a toolbox in his direction. "If the Malforian transcoupler blows there won't be a gorrram thing I can do to keep us from falling straight outta the sky."

Bobby skimmed the mess of wires and tubing with a practiced eye. It was a chaotic disaster, but once he saw what she had to work with and what she'd been able to to with it, his respect for her abilities bumped up quite a few notches. They might just be able to pull off the impossible after all. Of course, that's what this crew apparently did. Time for them to live up to their reputations.