Freya lifted her head.

"What is it?" Simon asked.

"I think they're back." She glanced over at the woman standing by the foot of the bed, bending over and waiting for another contraction to pass. "You going to be okay for a while?"

Simon nodded, smiling. "Funnily enough, I'm a doctor. Trust me."

"You would never believe the number of times I've heard that," Freya retorted, but there was little humour in her tone. She hurried out of the door, almost colliding with Inara.

"Did I just hear –" the ex-Companion said.

"They're back."

"I'll stay with Zoe. My turn."

"Thanks." Freya hurried down the stairs. As she went she heard Simon tell Zoe she should lie down, and realised the soon-to-be mother had a very firm grasp of Chinese curses.

---

"You didn't have to wait for me," Hank complained as he came down the stairs into the cargo bay, pulling his sweater into place.

"Didn't want you running off again," Mal said, sliding off the crate he'd been sitting on.

"Wasn't gonna do that, Mal."

"No, but I didn't want the thought to even occur to you." He watched his pilot wrap his arms around himself. "Where's your coat?"

"It's kinda wet."

"Oh. Yeah." He tossed him his grey cord jacket. "Here. Better put this on otherwise I'll get the sharp edge of Freya's tongue." Mal slapped his hands together. "Well, better get you up to the house."

"I can do it myself," Hank insisted as he slipped gratefully into the jacket.

"No, please. Let me accompany you." There was steel in the tone, brooking no objection.

They walked out into the night.

"You ain't never gonna let me forget this, are you?"

"Nope."

"Figures."

They headed in silence up the path until Mal's footsteps faltered.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, staring at Freya striding towards them. They met just by the bonfire.

"I got fed up waiting."

"You haven't even got your coat on! There I am, telling this man that –" He went to take his off, but the look on her face, even in the firelight, stopped him.

"I'm fine, Mal." She looked at Hank. "And where have you been?"

He had the grace to look ashamed. "Getting in the way of myself mostly."

"Really."

"Frey … how is she?"

"Do you care?"

"Frey, please," he pleaded.

She relented, the cold seeping into her bones and making them ache. "It's progressing. She wants you to be there, Hank."

"I know." He shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one you need to say that to."

"Yeah, I guess not." He straightened his shoulders a little. "Guess I'd better …"

"Guess you should." She stared at him. "Oh, and, Hank, before you go up …"

"What?" He was distracted, only thinking of Zoe and the imminent birth of his baby.

"Here." She slapped something onto his chest and he automatically reached up to take it.

"What –"

"You'd better put it on."

He looked down at the object. He could just see it was a sort of glove, made of very thin leather, almost transparent, but reinforced with strips of plexi. He turned to her, confused. "I don't –"

"Wear it. She will break your hand."

"Oh. Thanks." He smiled at her briefly, then strode towards the house.

Freya watched him go.

"What was that you gave him?" Mal asked, intrigued.

"I made it," she said remotely, still watching after the pilot. "Got the bits from Wayborn. It'll save his hands. For piloting." She turned on Mal. "What did you do to him? His hair's damp and his skin's icy."

"Well, he might have become somewhat closely acquainted with a horse trough."

"A … Mal, it's below freezing out here!"

"I know that. I said it to you." He reached for her to pull her inside his coat but she stepped back.

"Mal …"

"He needed to cool down."

"And if he gets pneumonia?"

"He won't," Mal promised.

"Mal, sometimes I don't believe you." She glared at him then stalked away towards Serenity.

"What did I do now?" he called, but she didn't respond. Then an inkling ran down his spine of just what else she might be upset about. Maybe he had the answer to that after all.

---

"About time!" Zoe shouted from the middle of the contraction, her face red and sweaty.

"Honey?" Hank couldn't move. "Are you all right?"

"Of course I'm not all right!" The pain eased. "Where're you been? If you've been drinking while your son's being born –"

"No. Not drinking. Just being stupid."

She glared at him, then held out her hand. "Don't you want to be here?"

Suddenly his feet took him to the bed and he grasped her fingers. "I'm sorry, honey."

"That's okay, dear," Zoe said, calmer for a moment. "Don't do it again." She took a deep breath. "Just be aware we're gonna be talking about this later. A lot."

He shuddered.

---

Freya wasn't looking at the house. Or the stars. Or even the big bonfire Mr Boden had built whose heat barely seemed to reach her. Instead she was sitting on a convenient log, staring at the ground, and not even seeing that.

"Mama?"

She looked up, pulling herself back from where she'd gone. "Ethan?"

The little boy toddled up to her, a huge grin on his face. "Mama!"

She had to smile back, and quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks. "What are you doing out here?" she asked, holding out her hands to him. "It's too cold for you."

Ethan's grin faded. "Mama sad?"

Freya shook her head. "No."

"Mama not sad? Mama crying." He reached out to touch her.

"It's okay, honey." She lifted him to sit on her knee, and he put his little arms around her.

"Mama not sad." He hugged as tightly as he could.

"Okay. I won't be." He let go of her and instead took hold of the silver Firefly around her neck. He'd always loved that. "Did you come all this way by yourself?" she asked, letting him play with it.

"Daddy came." He glanced beyond her then went back to the necklace.

She turned. Mal was standing in the shadows. "Oh. Hey."

"Hey." He sat down next to her. "What're you doing out here in the dark. And the cold. It's damn chilly."

"Just … nothing."

"Least you got your coat on this time. You okay?"

"Sure."

"You wanna try that with a little more enthusiasm?"

She smiled a little but dropped her head. "I'm fine."

"Now, see, we've been married a while. And I'm kinda getting used to what you say not being the same as what you feel." He nudged her. "And while I know you're still mad at me dunking Hank in a horse trough – even though he truly deserved it – you know I'm gonna listen. So tell me."

"I … was just thinking."

"About Alice."

She swallowed and nodded. "I know I shouldn't, not with what's happening, but –"

"Frey, it'd be wrong if you didn't." Mal put his arm around his wife. "I wish it had been different, too, but that's the way life is. Can't go back and change things."

"No."

Ethan looked from one to the other. "Mama sad," he stated.

Freya looked at him. "No, Ethan. Mama's being silly. Mama's got you." She hugged him again.

"I've prepared some food," Mrs Boden said, heading towards them. "I understand the time difference is making everyone hungry." She smiled a little at the sight of the small family.

"Good idea." Freya put her son's feet back on the ground. "Looks like it's time to eat. And then you go to sleep. It's way past your bedtime as it is. Wherever we are."

"'Kay," he said, but threw his arms around her neck again. "Ethan loves Mama."

She held him tightly. "Mama loves Ethan."

He let go and moved along. "Ethan loves Daddy," he said firmly, holding out his arms.

Mal smiled and reached down, letting his son hug him. "Well, that's good. 'Cause Daddy loves Ethan too."

"We'll be in presently, if you wouldn't mind feeding Ethan?" Freya asked, trying to swallow the catch in her throat.

"Of course, madam." Mrs Boden nodded.

Ethan let go of his father, a satisfied look on his face, then walked, albeit still a little unsteadily, to Mrs Boden, who led him back towards the house.

Freya looked at the expression on Mal's face. "Don't go getting too attached to that. I have it on good authority boys give up the hugging pretty quickly."

"They get it back, though," Mal said, putting his arm around her and drawing her into his side. "I'm sorry. About Hank earlier."

"I am still mad at you."

"Hey, it wasn't just me, you know. It was Jayne's idea!"

"Then I'm still mad at him too. And when he gets back I'll tell him."

"Could be a while. He's driving the old mule."

"Then I'll expect to get mad at him any second."

Mal laughed. "Yeah, he does tend to speed." He felt her relax into him a little.

"You still shouldn't have done that. What if Hank does get sick?"

"Then him and the kid can share a doctor." Mal shook his head. "He just got me pissed. Did you know he went to town to start a fight?"

"Hank?" She looked at him in disbelief. "You are kidding with me."

"No. Perfectly serious. Found a bar and started a fist fight. Me and Jayne arrived just in time to stop him being beaten to death. Well, nearly."

"Is that why you're bruised?" She reached up and touched the darkening area along his jaw.

"Someone landed a lucky punch."

"I keep telling you to duck quicker."

"I'll try and remember." He could feel her shivering, and undid the blanket he'd brought with him, putting it around both their shoulders. "Here."

"Thanks." She snuggled closer to him.

"You okay now?" He glanced towards the house. "With all this."

"Shiny."

"Again, I could ask for a little more enthusiasm." He kissed her forehead. "Why ain't you in there?"

"There's more than enough. Zoe has Simon, and there's Inara, River, Kaylee … they're not going to need me crowding in. Even Bethany's been sneaking a peek."

"You mean …" He tapped his temple.

"No. Actually opening the door. Going inside."

"How come?"

Freya half-smiled. "She says it's so she's ready for when Kaylee has her brother or sister."

"At least one person's optimistic around here." He looked into her eyes. "Except that's not the only reason. Is it?"

His wife bit her lip. "I … I just can't. Zoe ... seeing her …" There was a scream from inside the house, following by profuse swearing through the open window. "… hearing her … it's hard knowing you're never going to have another one."

"You will." He hugged her closer.

"I don't know, Mal. So much has happened to my body, I don't know if I'll ever …"

"No." He turned her face to his. "We will. Dammit, Frey, I've been doing my best."

She had to laugh. "Oh, that's for sure."

"Maybe we should talk to Simon. See if there's some way we can … I don't know … prime the pump somehow."

"Do what?"

Mal had the good grace to look slightly ashamed. "Maybe it's me," he said quietly. "You know, caught it from Simon."

"What have you been doing with that young man that I don't know about?"

"Nothing!" He closed his eyes and chuckled. "Just maybe I ain't firing quite the live rounds I think."

Freya snuggled back into his shoulder. "I don't think you need to worry about that."

"How can you tell? There ain't no way of knowing just by looking."

"Mal, I'd know."

"Right."

"I know your body. Like I know mine."

"Really."

"Yes."

"Okay, you tell me something about your body."

She smiled. "What do you want to know?"

"Um … I … okay. How long since your last period?"

"Mal, you know I'm not regular. And with what's been going on, with Ethan and my hip, I … a while."

"See? You could be pregnant and you don't even know it."

"I'm not."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I could concentrate and …" She stopped, her face turning white.

He'd been joking, wanting to get her off the subject of their daughter, but now he felt a concern burn through him like a forest fire. "Frey, what is it?"

She stood up, moving away from him, her arms clutched around her body. "Mal …"

He got quickly to his feet. "Are you in pain?" He knew she still ached sometimes, even if she didn't always tell him, and it was so cold … But this … "I'll get Simon."

She turned to stare into his eyes. "Mal, wait …"

He gripped her shoulders. "Honey, you're scaring me. What is it?"

Her eyes dropped slowly, her hands unclasping to lay on her belly. "Mal, I can feel it."

"What?" His brows drew together, then … "Frey?" He looked down at her stomach. "Are you saying …"

She lifted her head, her eyes bright with tears. But not of sadness this time. "I … I think I am."

"You're … you're telling me … you're …" He swallowed, trying to get the lump of raw emotion out of his throat so he could create a proper sentence. "You're saying you're pregnant?"

She nodded.

Tears of his own welled from his eyes. "Frey …"

"Oh, Mal …"

He pulled her towards him, and she locked her arms around his back, sobbing into his chest, laughing at the same time.

"That true?" came a voice out of the darkness. Jayne materialised.

"Seems like," Mal said, his voice thick with emotion.

"'Bout damn time." The big man smiled.

"Just … don't tell anyone," Mal asked.

"Hey, your secret." He rubbed his hands together. "Though I reckon I deserve some of that whisky I never got earlier."

"In the drawing room," Freya laughed, hiccupping slightly.

"Yeah," Jayne said, heading towards the house. "I'll just remember to lift my pinkie when I drink it."

"And I'm still mad at you," Freya called.

"Story of my life," the big man murmured.