Kaylee opened the door to the Bethany's room to be greeted by a huge sneeze.

"Sorry, Momma," the guilty party said, wiping her nose on a hankie.

"That's okay, sweetie." She smiled and stepped inside, a bowl of soup balanced in one hand. "How're you feeling?"

"Soggy."

Her mother chuckled. "I know what you mean. I hate getting colds, too. Makes me feel all kinds of annoyed."

"What's that?" Bethany asked, looking at the bowl.

"Chicken soup. Well, chicken flavour."

"Who made it?" The little girl eyed it doubtfully.

Now Kaylee laughed out loud. "It's okay. I did."

"Good." She moved over so Kaylee could sit on the edge of the bed, and wrapped the blanket around her waist.

Kaylee lifted a spoonful of the broth to her daughter's mouth. "How's Hope?" She looked over to the other small bed.

Bethie glanced at her sister and swallowed. "Sleeping." She grinned. "Mmn."

"Tastes okay?"

"Nice." She opened her mouth for another.

"Your granma swears by this. Says it'll kill any kinda bug, cure what ails you."

She licked her lips. "S'good."

"Anything for my baby."

"Not a baby," Bethie said firmly, shaking her head.

"Then you can feed yourself and I can get back to work?"

Bethany weighed up the pros and cons, and decided it was worth it, just this once. "Baby."

Kaylee grinned. "Okay. Open up." Another spoonful went down.

"Have you got some for Auntie River?"

"You think she needs some?"

Bethie nodded. "Make her feel better."

"Well, I think the Cap's going to talk to her, but there's enough for another bowl. If you don't eat it all."

"Might have to make some more."

"We'll see about that." Kaylee gently wiped a splash of soup from her daughter's chin. "Do you … have any idea what's wrong with your Auntie River?"

Bethany paused in the act of trying to lick her own cheek. "Might."

"Can you tell me?"

"Secret."

"Even from me?"

"Not supposed to peek." She looked down at the soup. "Momma?"

"Anything I should be worried about?"

Bethie sighed. It looked like blackmail was involved here. "Nothing to worry about. Uncle Mal knows."

"Frey?"

"Mmn." She opened her mouth. "Momma. Please?"

Kaylee had to smile. "Okay. Guess we'll all know 'fore too long." She filled the waiting entrance with another spoonful of hot chicken broth, and watched Bethany's eyes close in satisfaction.

---

"Albatross?" Mal knocked gingerly. "Can I come in?"

"No."

"Well, seeing as it's my shuttle, and I let you use it out of the goodness of my heart, I kinda feel that was a rhetorical question." He ducked inside the doorway, ready to duck even more if she started throwing things.

"Tell him I don't want to see him." This came from the figure on the bed, all covered over with a blanket until there was just a mound with feet.

"I've a notion you mean Jayne. Though since you won't let your brother check you over properly, there might be some doubt over that."

"Yes, Jayne."

"Well, I can do that. I conjure he's got the message already, but … yeah. I can tell him. Might make it easier if he knew why you did what you did, though." He shook his head. "And I'd kinda prefer not to just be talking to a heap of bed linen."

There was movement under the pile, and she sat up slowly. "Why can't everyone just leave me alone?" she asked.

"Pretty much it's 'cause they care about you."

"Don't need to."

"No, well, maybe they don't, but seems to me that everyone knows you're family. You talk about being a daughter to Freya, to … well, to me, and you're sure Simon's sister and Bethany's aunt. And we won't even mention what you are to Jayne. So I think caring comes with the territory."

"Huh."

"So can I sit down?"

"Your shuttle." She drew her knees up out of the way and he perched on the edge of the bed.

"Glad we got that straight, at least." He smiled, then looked at her more closely. "That's one hell of a black eye."

"It's fine." She let her hair swing forward, covering the bruised skin. "I'm fine."

"Well, I'd have to take issue with that notion, albatross." Mal dipped his head to try and see past her shield. "I'm kinda certain being fine don't equate to you stealing my shuttle and trying to get yourself killed. Or worse."

"What's worse?"

"Well, what those men had in mind. And you know damn well it's a lot worse. Going into a place like that, looking like you do …" He shook his head. "If Freya hadn't been able to pick up where you'd gone, there's no saying what might've happened to you." He put his hand under her chin and tipped her face up to look at him. "Unless that's what you wanted."

The guilt flashing across her eyes told him everything, despite the fact that she said, "Of course not."

"Right." He nodded slowly, letting go of her face. "So what we saw, what we stopped, that wasn't what I thought it was."

"They attacked me. I would have dealt with it."

"Yeah, figure they did. And yeah, you could. But you went down to that place to make it happen."

She glared at him. "You don't know everything."

"I know enough, River." He paused a moment. "Are you pregnant?"

Her face disappeared behind the wall of hair again. "Not answering."

Mal released a long, slow breath. "Doesn't make it go away by not saying it."

"Might."

"For a genius you sure can be a dummy sometimes." A hand shot out and whacked him on the thigh. "Ow."

"Not a dummy. Although it is a proven fact that pregnancy destroys 34.875 percent of your cognitive brain cells …"

"I'll let you tell that one to Frey." He waited a long moment. "Look, River, you can tell me what you know, or think you know, or I can get your brother in here with his little medical doodad and he can take some of your blood while I hold ya down." He shrugged. "Your choice."

"Tiny feet in huge combat boots …" she whispered.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Who told you?" Then her lips pursed. "Freya."

"Your walls ain't as good as you thought."

"Shouldn't have been peeking."

"I told her to." He looked down at her belly. "This little one going to be psychic?"

"I haven't decided."

"Haven't decided? On what?"

"Whether there's going to be a little one or not."

"Ah." Now he understood. "And you thought you'd make it someone else's decision."

"I don't know."

"River …"

She began to bluster. "It was just … the dreams, the voice, the … the feeling wrong, not myself and not realising it wasn't myself but someone else, and it just … "

"Forced the cracks open a bit?"

She looked at him. "Yes."

"So all this pretending to be thirteen again, wearing your hair in those pigtails –"

"Plaits."

"Plaits ... that was all so you didn't have to face having a baby?"

"I'm too young." She barely breathed it.

"You're twenty-three."

"Not age. My mind. I've not been whole for a long time."

"And you think having a kid is going to make you crazy … sorry, crazier than you are already?"

"It's a variable that I can't control. Hormones, mood swings … I could cut your throat in your sleep."

"Rather you didn't."

"But I don't know."

"So that's a reason to do what you did?"

"It's my reason!"

"Your brother's right. You are a brat."

"Boob."

Mal half smiled and put his hand on her knee. "I take it it's Jayne's."

She looked outraged. "Of course!"

"Just checking. And how long've you known? That you were pregnant."

"A few days for certain, but I've felt odd for a little while longer."

"Since you …" He waved his hand uncertainly in the direction of her stomach.

"Since I conceived. Yes."

"You planning on tellin' Jayne?" His voice had softened. "'Cause the way I figure it, he has a right to know."

"Haven't you?"

"Nope. Ain't my place." He paused. "Well, yeah, maybe it is, but as captain, not as friend."

"My father."

"Not even that, River. But you act like that again, running off, and I won't be averse to putting you over my knee. And don't say Jayne'd stop me. He'd probably hold you down."

"Freya wouldn't let you."

"Wanna bet?"

"Ask her."

"River, I'd hold his coat," the woman in question said, stepping into the shuttle.

Mal wasn't surprised, and stood up so she could sit. River scuttled round to lay her head in the older woman's lap.

"Not old enough to have children," she muttered. "Still a child. Everyone thinks so."

"You think I feel old enough to have kids? Hell, you think Mal is?" She smiled at the look of effrontery on her husband's face. "Doesn't mean anyone ever feels ready for them, jaio nu."

"I didn't know what to do."

"So you ran off? Why didn't you tell someone, River? Me? Or Simon?"

"I felt broken. In two pieces. I was afraid."

"Of what?"

"The need."

"The need for what? To stay a child?"

"To be looked after."

"You don't wanna be looked after?" Mal asked, slightly confused.

"That's the thing. I do."

Freya stroked her hair. "But you don't have to be a child to have that, River."

"I know."

"And you do have to tell Jayne."

She sighed. "Already knows."

Mal looked over and, sure enough, the mercenary stood in the doorway. "You eavesdropping?" he asked.

"Must be catching," Jayne grunted, but Mal didn't miss the glance that passed between him and Freya. He understood – she'd told him to listen.

"Yeah. Must be."

"You're gonna have a baby?" the mercenary asked, his eyes on River.

She nodded slowly, her thumb inching towards her mouth, but staying on her lip.

"That what all this gos se was about? You were afraid to tell me?"

She didn't answer, just clung to Freya.

"Time we left," Freya said, disentangling the young woman's hand from her shirt.

"Don't," River pleaded.

"This is between you and Jayne." Freya got up. "But we won't be far."

Mal let her go ahead of him out of the shuttle, then glared at Jayne. "Play nice," he warned, then followed his wife.