Casmir leaped forward, finding himself amongst the pack as they all pulled into the first bend. River could feel his muscles bunching and relaxing, moving smoothly under his skin between her knees, responding to every movement of her hands, but even more to her thoughts. As she saw an opening begin to form, Casmir surged ahead, barely scraping through, but now he was in front.

Just on the edge of her hearing she could perceive the roaring of the crowd, like a huge wave crashing forever onto the shore, yet here, riding this wonderful horse, she was in a world of her own, just being River.

-

"You sure they're coming?" Jayne asked, barely making the words have any sound.

"They won't get another opportunity," Mal breathed.

"Yeah, but if they take much longer, the others'll -"

"Jayne."

Instantly the big man was still.

-

She could feel the other horses very close, bunched up behind her, and she risked a glance to her right. Howell was almost level on Osiris Lad, not using the whip like the other jockeys were, just urging the horse on with his knees and voice.

Ahead she could see the winning post, coming up very fast, even though she seemed to be hardly moving. It would only take holding on to win …

-

Honor waited outside the galley in the corridor to the engine room. As instructed she was keeping at eye on Freya, making sure she didn't interfere. The woman was currently sitting at the table, a coffee and comunit in front of her. She seemed to be waiting, poised, ready for something to happen.

The watching girl shivered slightly.

-

There was a flash to the left, then a bell, and Casmir began to pull up. The race was over, and the rush of sound filled River's world again. Other horses and riders jostled her, but she waited, listening to the voices as they thought about what had just happened.

"Miss?" Howell looked at her, his face glowing.

-

"Heads up, Frey. They're inside." The voice was tinny, distorted slightly by the comunit, but Honoria was certain she knew the speaker. And if that was the case … She ran down the stairs, through the common area and into the bay.

"Momma, don't, it's a trap!" Honoria shouted, but she was too late.

Mal stood on the ramp, Jayne next to him, both aiming their weapons at Hil Dywer and her men.

"Mal …" Hil said, her mouth dropping, her hand very close to her gun.

"Don't," Mal warned. "Only so many shots you can take before one of us gets you." He glanced at Freya as she stepped onto the catwalk above, a rifle aimed unerringly at the other woman's head. "And I figure she'd kinda like you to try." He looked across at Honoria. "Momma?"

"She's my mother," the redhead said, her face stony.

"Thought you didn't marry Reilly."

Hil shrugged. "I lied."

"Guess you did."

"And I ain't the only one." She looked up at Freya. "I believed you. All that about how broken you were over this man …"

Freya hefted her rifle a little higher. "If you'd succeeded it would have been a whole lot worse." She levelled the gun at Hil. "Did you really expect to betray Mal and get away with it?"

"Frey." Mal shook his head slightly. "It ain't worth it."

"She tried to kill you."

"Still ain't worth it."

There was a long pause, during which Mal was waiting for the gunshot, for the splatter of blood and brains over the cargo bay, but it never came. He saw Freya relax just a little, and he smiled slightly.

"Got it, Mal," Harry said, striding up the ramp behind him, the box held high, Monty at his heels.

"You … you been on my ship?" Hil's jaw dropped further.

"Two can play at this game," Mal pointed out. "You and your boys come to Serenity, Harry and Monty go to your ship. Only I'm kinda curious … what were you planning on doing with Frey once you got the box?"

Hil shrugged. "Not sure."

"Don't lie to me, Hil." Mal's voice was hard. "Another little 'accident'?"

"I don't know her, Mal. Not like you."

Mal's finger tightened for a moment on the trigger, but he forced himself to relax and smile. "Good job you never got the chance."

"How did you know?" Hil asked, honestly curious. "What told you it was me?"

"Truth to tell, I hoped I was wrong. But things you said at Reilly's wake, knowing just a little too much about his business … then you told Frey you had a job to get to."

"So?"

"You already told Pickett you were free."

"That's it? Just a few words and you put things together?" Hil couldn't believe it.

"That and the fact that Honoria looks kinda like you did once. Long time ago. 'Round the mouth." He didn't add that he'd only just noticed. "Besides, I knew Honor here was feeding someone. Only six people on board likely to, and the other girls weren't anywhere near as interested in what was going on." He looked at the young woman. "Don't seem to me Reilly named you well."

"I called her that," Hil said.

"Then I apologise to Reilly. But not to you."

"And them?" Hil nodded towards Monty and Harry. "It could've been them."

"Nope, it couldn't. I trust them with my life."

"Thought you felt that way about me."

"Can't say I ever did, Hil. Not really. Soon as I figured who it was, they were the first people I told."

Hil let her hands drop away from her gunbelt. "So now what?"

"Maybe I should ask you the same. What would you do, if the tables were turned and you were in my position?"

Hil laughed. "I guess a slap on the wrist would be out of the question?"

Sudden anger flared in Mal's blue eyes. "You tried to have me killed, Hil!"

"No, now, that ain't strictly speaking the case. My boys here just took my instructions a little too literally." She looked around at her men.

"And they were?"

"To put you away somewhere safe." She shrugged. "It was their decision to make it permanent."

"Don't tell me, you'd've cried over my grave."

"Course I would. Ain't that many good Browncoats around we can afford to lose any."

"Good Browncoats don't steal from each other."

She stared at him. "What cloud do you live on?"

"Not like this." He shook his head. "Why, Hil? Why all this?"

"Why do you think? The money, of course."

"The money? Hil, Honoria would have gotten her share."

"Her share." Hil scoffed. "Yeah. A sixth of what that hwoon dahn owed me. He took all my money, Mal! Gambled it away then came home and apologised. I had to go out to work! Just to pay the bills! I had enough. I left."

"And Honor?"

"He said he'd look after her. Then when the war came …"

"Why'd you join up?" Mal shook his head, trying to make it clear enough he could understand it. "You could have taken her back -"

"He'd married again. The serial bigamist that he was. I can't even guarantee I was the first." She laughed. "And I knew our cause was righteous. Remember that, Mal? Being righteous? Being so damn sure we were gonna win?"

He'd had enough. "You leave, Hil. Take your men and go. You've lost."

She glared at him, as if by sheer will she could make him drop dead. But she was no River. "And Honor's share?"

"She'll get it. Whatever else she is, she's Reilly's daughter. Gets her apportionment."

Hil nodded. "And the horse?"

"Don't push your luck, Hil. Casmir's mine. Whatever he makes goes to me and my crew. Don't worry, there'll be plenty for you to cheat Honor out of. Though if she's got the sense she was born with she'll figure out you ain't the kind of mother she needs."

The woman stared at him, as if she was working out the odds that he was going to shoot her in the back, but obviously decided he was still the honourable soldier. She lifted her head and strode out, her men following.

"Make sure they don't try and come back," Mal said to Jayne.

"On it," the mercenary said, loping after them.

"She didn't ask about the other girls," Monty said softly, shaking his head.

"She doesn't care."

"What happened to her, Mal? She was always so strong."

"I don't know. Maybe she just can't live with the peace like we can."

"She tried to get me to join some Browncoat movement."

Mal nodded. "Yeah."

"You think a war might be brewing?"

Mal didn't answer for a moment, thinking back over what he'd said to Hil only a few days ago, even though it seemed a lifetime.

"We fight, we'll lose, Hil. It won't be glorious, like you seem to remember. It'll be hard, bloody and pointless. The Alliance have things … Hil, I have a wife and child. I want more kids. That's what's important to me right now."

"And? If it does happen?"

He sighed. "I'll defend them, Hil. Like you damn well know I would."

"I hope not," he said finally, looking up at Freya.

"Yeah, me too." Monty scratched his chin. "You know, I'd maybe kinda feel more sympathy for her if she'd said she was aiming to give the money to the movement."

"Instead of being an honest thief?"

"Nah, Mal," Harry put in. "I reckon there's degrees of dishonesty, and she's half a compass away from the rest of us."

"You sure about that?"

"Course I'm sure." He slapped Mal on the back. "You wouldn't've done what she did. None of us would. Steal things, yeah. But kill like that? We're too good for that."

Mal couldn't help it. He laughed.

Freya headed down the stairs, holding onto the handrail. "You'd better get back to the racetrack," she called. "Find out what happened."

"We know what happened," Monty said. "Casmir won."

---

"He came second, Mal." Hank didn't seem that disappointed. "Closest finish they've had in years, 'parently. Less than a nose. Had to go to a capture to separate 'em."

Mal rubbed the horse's shoulder, the green and yellow sash of the runner-up still around his neck, his blanket secure. "That close?"

Hank glanced around at the rest of the crew, nodding. "It was the favourite won, but no-one was talking about him. Only about Casmir."

Mal smiled, feeling the hot breath on his neck. "Good lad," he murmured. "Maybe Reilly knew what he was doing after all."

York, the steward, bustled out of his office and smiled at Mal, even if it didn't reach his eyes. "I had heard you were … injured," he said, rubbing his hands.

"You'd heard I was dead," Mal corrected. "Plain to see I ain't."

"And I'm so pleased."

"Sure." Mal looked at Casmir. "So did someone buy him? Only I was kinda thinking -"

"Oh, yes," York interrupted. "There was some spirited bidding, and he went for the largest sum of the day."

"Really?"

"And I have it ready for you, less the handling 10% fee, of course."

"Of course." Mal's lips twitched, as did his gunhand. This man really could rub him up the wrong way without trying. He hadn't killed anyone so far, but the day wasn't over yet. "And who is the new owner?"

"Me."

Mal turned, and wondered if he was getting psychic in his old age. Or maybe living in such close proximity to Freya was rubbing off on him. Because he wasn't all that surprised. "Kilbrook."

The lawyer smiled. "Captain."

"You know each other, of course," York said. "I'll just get the papers ready for you to sign." He hurried off to the office, leaving the two men looking at each other.

"You paid more than for the winner," Mal said, smiling slightly. "Not sure that was such a good idea."

"I paid what he was worth, Captain."

Mal's eyebrows raised. "How'd you figure that?"

In answer Kilbrook turned to River. "Why did you pull him? He could have won."

"He knows," River said. "But he likes Howell."

"The boy who rode the winner?"

"He trusts him." River looked at the older man. "Take him on as your jockey and Casmir will win. Every race."

"You can promise that, can you?" Kilbrook asked, amused.

"Casmir does."

"And I can take your word for it."

"Take his. Look." She nodded towards the horse. Howell was standing next to him, smoothing his flank. Casmir was relaxed, almost leaning into the young man.

Kilbrook smiled. "I think you may be right."

"Of course I am."

Kilbrook felt the lightest feather touch of something on his mind, and he shivered. "As much fun as this is, I think I'd better sign the papers."

"Good idea," Mal agreed. "Then tomorrow I think we need to have a chat. I've got a proposition to put to you."

"Really? Is it going to cost me money?"

"You're a lawyer. Don't think that's possible."

Kilbrook laughed out loud. "It isn't." He strode away, still chuckling.

"Is Howell a Reader?" Mal asked softly as soon as Kilbrook was out of earshot.

River shook her head. "No. But he is talented on a subtle level. His hands are good, and with a horse like Casmir he will be successful."

"Did you really pull him?"

"No, Captain." She looked at him guilelessly, then added, "But I might have suggested it."

"Ain't that the same thing?"

She smiled and he found the thought Would you do everything I suggested? settle in his mind.

"Enough of that, albatross," he warned, and she laughed.

"He wants to say goodbye."

"Who, Howell?"

"No, Casmir. He wishes you'd ridden him, just once."

"Now why would that be?"

"Reilly used to talk to him. Tell him about you. About the honourable man you were. And still are."

Mal raised his eyebrows. "Did he tell the horse about the … that treasure of his?"

"Yes." River smiled. "But it was a secret so he couldn't tell me."

"Secret." Mal shook his head. "Right."

"Say goodbye to him."

Feeling something of a fool, Serenity's captain walked over to the large horse, and Howell tactfully left them alone.

Mal leaned his head against Casmir, feeling the short dark hair on the horse's flank under his hand. "Good boy," he said, patting him gently. He grinned. "Wish I could keep you," he went on, "but you can plainly see there's no space. But Kilbrook'll take good care of you. Tell River if he ain't."

Casmir lifted his head, then lowered it, almost as if he were nodding.

"And you ride well for him. I figure he's good folk, so do your best."

For one brief moment Mal was back in his home on Shadow, and in front of him was a man on horseback, tall in the saddle, his thick dark hair falling over his forehead. He was reaching down his hand, to pull Mal up behind him, to ride out to cattle. His father, dead for more than thirty years. But it wasn't as his other memories were of him, faded and little more than feelings. This was crystal clear, Ethan Reynolds's face smiling, his blue eyes sharp and gentle. He felt the hand in his, enveloping his fingers, being lifted up, putting his arms around a strong waist … the image faded, and he was back in the yard.

"That you, albatross?" Mal asked quietly.

"No, Captain."

"Then -"

"Casmir wanted to give you something."

"He's a Reader?"

River laughed. "He's a horse."

Mal wanted to argue, but decided it was one he was unlikely to win. "Thank you," he whispered instead, patting Casmir's shoulder. He looked across at Howell. "Better take him in now, make sure he doesn't get cold."

"Yes sir." Howell led the horse back into his stall.

"We going home now, Cap'n?" Kaylee asked, leaning into Simon and holding onto Bethany's hand. "Kinda need to take a nap."

"Goin' home, mei-mei."

"Uncle Mal?" Bethany asked. "What about Casmir?"

Mal went down onto his heels and looked into the dark brown, trusting eyes of childhood. "He's gonna stay here. Going to a good home, too, so you don't have to worry about him."

"He likes you."

"Does he?"

"Told me."

Mal smiled. "Well, I kinda liked him too."

"Didn't you want to keep him?" Kaylee asked. "I thought maybe you might …"

Mal stood up. "I considered it, just for a moment. But we ain't got the wherewithal to keep body and boat together some days, let alone a horse. He's better off with Kilbrook."

"And maybe now I can deal properly with that bullet wound," Simon said pointedly.

"Ain't nothing but a scratch."

"As I'm sure I've said before -"

"And I'm sure you'll say again, you're the doctor around here." Mal laughed. "Come on," he added. "Freya's waiting."

---

"Everyone on board?" Mal asked, walking up the ramp. He'd had a good night's sleep, completed his dealings with Kilbrook, and felt good about the 'verse. Zoe strode along next to him, her flame top moving in the breeze.

"Just waiting for you, Mal," Freya said, waiting for him in the cargo bay. "Business done?"

"Kilbrook's a happy man."

"And are we?"

"We were right, you know. Those papers were the land deeds to some of the most expensive real estate in town. And no-one's paid any rent in a long time. He's enjoying composing the letters as we speak."

"So the girls are wealthy?"

"Will be. And Inara?"

"I just spoke to her. She's happy to take them on."

"Did she laugh?" Mal asked.

"Only a lot."

"Great. I conjure we're gonna have some grand words when we drop the girls off."

"They'll do well there. She can teach them to be ladies and how to deal with people like you."

He put his arm around her waist. "Just so long as she don't encourage 'em to become Companions."

"I don't think she'd dare."

"Zo, get us ready to leave this mudball," Mal said, looking at his first mate.

"Yes sir." She smiled at them both then headed up the stairs to the bridge.

"And our cut?" Freya asked. "Do we, as Jayne pointed out, get a finder's fee?"

"It ain't ours, Frey. Never was. Reilly made that pretty clear. But there is the price of Casmir to take into account."

"And the bets."

"Bets?" He looked down into her brown eyes. "Who was betting?"

"Oh, just about everyone. Each way. Casmir came second, so we all did pretty well."

"So no-one needs paying this month?"

She laughed. "I think you'd have an argument about that from at least some members of the crew."

"I conjure you're probably right." He grinned and kissed her.

"So when do the girls see this cash?"

"Probably take a while, leastways according to Kilbrook. But give it a month or two, and they won't be needing for anything."

"Good," came a voice from outside the ship. Hil Dywer stood in the washed-out sunlight.

Mal glared at her, his hand on his gun. "You'd better leave, Hil. We did all the talking we're going to do."

"I'm not here for you," the woman said, pulling her brown coat around her. "I'm here for Honor."

"For …" He shook his head, "Ain't gonna happen."

"Yes it is." The girl walked up behind him, her bag in her hand. "I'm going with my mother."

Freya stepped forward. "Honor … what about your sisters?"

"The only thing I had in common with them was Reilly, and he's dead."

"But there's been arrangements made. Someone's gonna be looking after you -"

"I won't stay. Wherever it is, I won't stay. My mother will come and get me."

Hil nodded. "My baby, Mal. My daughter. And she's gonna be with me."

"You sure about this?" Mal asked Honor, ignoring the other woman. "'Cause I could get Jayne to tie you up and throw you in the hold until you come to your senses."

"As much as I might like that, and he certainly would, it doesn't change anything."

"And your share of the money? Kilbrook's handling it all, but … where'll he send it?"

Honor smiled, looking so much older than her seventeen years. "I'll let him know." She held out her hand. "Thank you for having me, Captain. And I won't forget you."

They shook, and she walked out of Serenity.

"Do you think time travel is possible?" Mal asked, watching as Hil Dwyer and her daughter walked away from the Firefly.

"What?" Freya glanced at him.

"There's just something about that girl that makes me wonder."

"You're thinking about Saffron."

"Same hair colour, same determination to get what she wants …" He shook his head. "It wouldn't surprise me somehow to hear, a ways down the line, that she's married a hell of a lot of men."

"I wouldn't go too far down that time travel route if I were you," Freya said, putting her arm around his waist. "Otherwise it could occur to you that you might have got yourself hitched to your stepdaughter …"

Mal turned to look at her in appalled wonder. "That's …"

"Don't worry about it." She pulled him towards the common area. "Pickett's given us another couple of days – what do you have on that man, anyway?"

Mal's lips twitched. "Have on him?"

"He's being awfully accommodating."

"Let's just say I don't think his wife would like to hear about the incident with the contortionist and the swagger stick."

"Really." Freya's eyes widened. "You're going to have to tell me that one. But, anyway, we can get the other girls to Inara's with time to spare."

"Are we ever gonna have a nice, easeful trip?" Mal asked, wrapping his arms around her and making her stand still.

"One day," Freya admitted. "And won't that be boring."

"I'd kinda like to try."

She snuggled a little closer. "There's something else I'd like to try right now, though."

He looked at her, at the mischief in her eyes. "You ain't allowed."

"There's other things I can do. Like …" She whispered in his ear.

His eyebrows raised. "Really."

"We're ready to go, Cap'n," Zoe said, reappearing on the catwalk.

He glanced up. "Where're the girls?"

"In the galley, sir. Kaylee's teaching them the finer points of cooking."

"All of them?"

"Even Bethany."

He grinned at Freya. "Close her up, would you? And tell that man of yours to get us off the ground."

"Lazarus?"

"Lazarus."

"And what are you planning on doing, sir?" Zoe asked as she descended the stairs.

"Taking a rest."

"Sir?"

"Captain's privilege, Zoe." He smiled at her and let Freya go ahead of him into the common area.

"Not to be disturbed, sir?"

"Not unless it's Reavers."

"Yes sir, captain." She smiled, stroking her belly as she watched him follow Freya towards their temporary quarters.