Thank you to everyone whose reviewed the story so far. Thos of you who ask about spelling better look at my profile.

Wayward: thanks for the offer to Beta. It sure would be helpful if your profile included your e-mail address ;)

Sibling Rivalry
Part 3: The long exile's end…

"We'll be breaching atmo' in ten!" Wash's voice called out over the intercom, "A landing site would be nice."

"We'd better get up there." Mal looked across the table to where Sam and Zoë where doing their best to keep up an uneasy truce: the journey from the station to Shadow had almost ended in bloodshed on more than one occasion, until Mal had threatened to lock them in a shuttle and let them fight it out.

"You two go; I'll join you in a minuet." Sam stood and headed for the stairs, "Something I got to do first."


"Doctor Tam?" Sam stood in the infirmary doorway.

"Wuh de ma." Simon dropped the tray of instruments he was carrying, "Miss Reynolds. How can I help you?"

"I just wanted to apologise for what I said and did back on the station." Sam leaned against the doorframe, "It really wasn't anything personal or the like: just business."

"Yes, I'm sure my sister would understand that being sent back to the butchers who played with her brain because they could would have understood that."

"I'm not going to apologise for being a bounty hunter: it may not be the best job in the 'verse, but it's legal. Unlike what my dear brother has dragged you into."

"There's legal, and then there's moral…"

"Ah, now where talking ethics, and there I have to agree with you: I have no love for the Alliance. In fact, I hate them almost as much as you or Mal, but I am a pragmatist; I have to earn a living."

"Even one that condemns innocent people to death and torture?"

"You'd have to go a long way to find someone who's truly innocent." Sam turned to go, then stopped, "But from what I've seen the last few days, I have to believe your sister is one of them."


Sam wasn't half surprised to find Kaylee hiding in the corridor just outside the infirmary, a slightly worried look on her face. She sighed: she hadn't had much of a chance to get to know the crew that well, and the young engineer seemed very protective of Simon…

"I'm not a threat." Sam decided to tackle the problem head on, "I'm not about to get between the two of you."

"Who said there was anything between Simon and me?" Kaylee asked defensively.

"Ah, but I bet you wish there was." Sam smiled, taking Keylee's hand, "Walk with me a little."


The two women found their way to the second shuttle: the drab interior tended to dispel the idea of casual visitors, making it probably the most privet place on the ship.

"Ok, spill." Sam sat on a crate.

"What's to spill?" Kaylee kicked her feet subconsciously, "There's nothing going on."

"But you like him?"

"Yeah, a little, when he's not so stuck up."

"Little repressed is he?"

"Yeah."

"So nothing has ever happened between the two of you?"

"Almost, a couple of times, but something always gets in the way, or he says something, and I'll overreact and storm off."

"Sounds like the two of you need a kick in the head!" Sam grinned, "I've been around a bit these past 5 years, even to the Core a few times, and I've met people like Simon Tam. Things are, well, a little different in the Core: you like some out here, you just tell them and see what happens, but in there, you have to jump through hoops to see if they like you too."

"But Simon dose like me!"

"Maybe you should show him just how much you like him?"

"You think so?"

"I know so, but not now: I have a feeling that whatever my brother has planed is going to end with some work for the good Doctor, and I want him to have his head on straight when the time comes."

"Ok." Kaylee nodded, her mind already starting to plan what to do, "I'll leave it, for now. But thanks."


"Ok, where we landing?" Sam asked, breezing through the bridge hatchway.

"Clarkstown landing field." Mal glanced over his shoulder, "Zoë, you up for a little recon?"

"As ever." The First Mate nodded, "But it think I should take someone else with me so I can work a cover story."

"What you got in mind." The captain asked, turning round.

"I'll ask Sheppard to go with me, and I'll pretend to be his niece." Zoë explained, "We'll say that he knew you during the war and, as he was in the area, wanted to catch up on old times. We'll see what your uncle has to say for himself."

"It's a good plan." Mal nodded, "Take a weapon, but keep it out of sight: I'll prep the shuttle, and if you need us, use your radio and Jayne and I will be there."

"And me: I've got as much ridding on this as you have." Sam looked at her brother, than reached down to her boot and pulled out a small pistol that she handed to Zoë, "Take this: it's small enough to hide, and only takes 5 rounds, but it'll stop a man sure as anything."

"I thought I told you to hand over all your weapons?" Mal asked, taking the Derringer and examining it.

"You did, but I didn't." Sam shrugged, "Not my fault you didn't do a good job searching me."


The old cart dropped Zoë and Sheppard Book at the end of the dirt road leading to the Reynolds family ranch. They walked along it in silence; Zoë feeling uncomfortable in the dress Inara had lent her so she could play the role of a Preachers ward.

"Can I help you Reverend?" A ranch hand asked as they reached the gate.

"I hope so." Book said calmly, "I'm looking for an old friend of mine: Malcolm Reynolds. This is the last address I have for him."

"Boss!" The worker called to the house, "We got someone here looking for Mal Reynolds."

"Really?" A huge mountain of a man, his gut straining his belt, stepped out of the main door and walked across the yard, sweat glistering of his balding head, "And who would you be?"

"The Reverend Book." Sheppard bowed slightly, "And this is my ward and niece, Zoë. Zoë, say hello to the nice gentleman."

"Charmed, I'm sure." Zoë curtsied slightly, already planning her revenge.

"Philo Reynolds, at your service." The man nodded, his eyes leering at Zoë, "How would you know young Mal?"

"I was his unit chaplain during the war." Book started on the cover story, "I happened to have business on Shadow, and remembered that he came from a ranch around here, so decided to stop by and pay my respects."

"Well I'm sorry to tell you this Reverend, but you're a bit late." Philo mopped his brow; "I'm afraid young Mal was killed in a shootout on Persephone not long after the war ended. As the closest family of legal age, I inherited."

To Be Continued…