Hi, guys! Sorry it's been so long since I've updated, but I'm free now. Thanks for all the reviews! This is my first real fic, so if anyone has any suggestions of how to write a certain character, I'd really appreciate it. Thanks!

Mrs. Gertrude screamed. Jayne swore loudly. Mal and Zoe's guns materialized in their hands. Everyone else stood there, mouths wide open. Mrs. Gertrude shoved the man off her, and then started to savagely beat him with her purse. "Dirty scoundrel!" She screamed. The stowaway began to squeal in terror. Taken aback, Mal was the first to partially recover.

"Uhh… Ma'am?" Mal began. "Please step away from the… man… We might want to ask him some questions…"

Mrs. Gertrude didn't seem to notice.

"Really…" Mal began again. Then he stopped, feeling very awkward.

"Take that, and that, you filthy vermin! What gives you the right to jump on a respectable woman? Who do you think you are?" Mrs. Gertrude ranted, her purse savagely beating the stowaway about the head. Mal didn't look like he was going to do anything, so Simon stepped in.

"Excuse me Ma'am, but I think I should analyze your wounds before you hurt yourself. That poor man may have injured you somehow."

Mrs. Gertrude straitened herself up, brushed herself off, and turned to look at Simon. She started to form a sentence, then stopped, her mouth hanging open momentarily, breath heaving in and out. Eventually she calmed down and her voice returned. All she said was; "I'm sure I'm quite fine." in a pompous manner, "Although if your crew had been doing their jobs, I wouldn't have needed to defend myself. I will file a complaint."

While she was distracted the stowaway tried to crawl away. He didn't get very far. Mal had snapped out of his trance and marched over to the stowaway, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and hauled him to his feet, a difficult task as the man was a bit on the chubby side. Mal signaled Jayne over and they dragged the prisoner up the stairs and through the dining room to the storage compartment that occasionally doubled as a cell.

In all the confusion the Doctor was able to slip inside the TARDIS, which he had snuck on board an hour before the explosion, and finish setting up the hologram projection of a large box. It was unremarkable to anyone who wasn't a genius or a psychic, but he decided to play it safe.

When he exited, things were pretty much back to normal. The crew had finished settling everyone in and most people were getting used to their rooms, except Mrs. Gertrude, who had apparently decided that she wanted to be checked for injuries after all and was insisting that Simon give her his full attention.

Being the Doctor, he couldn't just sit down and relax like everybody else. He was very curious about the strange stowaway, and nothing had yet stopped him from investigating something curious. The Doctor walked around the shadowy edge of the room, being careful to not alert anyone to his presence. When no one was looking (Mrs. Gertrude was loudly complaining about the 'low, degrading sleeping quarters not fit for someone of her stature') he sprinted up the stairs and darted into the space between the door to the kitchen and the door to the cargo bay.

Softly closing the door behind him, he pulled out a glass and his sonic screwdriver. Putting the glass to the door, he sonic'd it, put his ear to the base, and was rewarded by a clear version of the conversation on the other side.

"Answer the question, man, why're you on my ship?" That voice was obviously Mal's.

"I wanna get away from dat place as fast as I could, dat place is gonna be full o' alliance big shots soonah or latuh."

The unfamiliar voice, the stowaway, reminded the Doctor of some people he'd met in the old west. One man in particular, a cowboy, came to mind.

"As fuh my name, sirruh, it'd be Jeremiah, ex cowboy."

"Why do you think the alliance would care about a little planet?"

"I know a lot bout' things dat happen round' here. Dat 'splosion, it was a secret base dat they think no one knows 'bout. I don't think dayll like dat, don't ya? An when dey come, deyll find sommat to blame et on, and it ain't gonna be me."

"Ah hell, Mal! I don't wanna get caught up in no more alliance plots! Ain't we had 'nough a them yet?" The other voice was probably Jayne, the security officer person.

A communication device of some sort rang, and Mal answered it. He talked to whoever was on the other side for a few seconds before snapping it shut and shoving it back in his pockets.

"Apperently not, Jayne. We got company. You go secure the passengers. We may be in for a rough flight."

The Doctor realized that Jayne was coming through the door and was just barely able to get out before Jayne came barreling through. The Doctor quickly slid down the railing behind him and tried to act normal. Jayne was obviously unused to calmly warning people of disaster, as what he yelled out didn't exactly inspire confidence.

"Batten down the hatches, it's gonna be a rough ride!"

Most people went to secure their belongings, but Mrs. Gertrude had a fit.

"A rough ride? This is a passenger flight! Why in the world would we be having a rough ride, you country bumpkin!"

Her niece, who had only just finished setting up their belongings, came over and tried to calm her down.

"Stop making such a fuss, auntie, we're lucky these people took us on…"

"Lucky?" Mrs. Gertrude's face turned an interesting shade between maroon and magenta as her voice reached maniacal heights. "You think that we're lucky that these ignorant farmers children are treating us like commoners? They should be bowing and kissing our feet! They should be begging for our forgiveness for their rusty hulk of a ship! They should be-" Her sentence unexpectedly ended as the deck shifted beneath their feet. Mrs. Gertrude tripped over her poofy dress and she fell, letting out a squeal. Mal's voice came on over the intercom.

"Attention, passengers, we appear to be having a minor disagreement with some alliance ships, so you may be feeling some shaking… and possibly fiery death… but we have a very good pilot, so that is unlikely."

Needless to say, the passengers weren't happy.

Meanwhile in the cockpit, River was managing the disagreement quite well. Three medium sized ships and one large cruiser were attempting to give chase, but to no avail. Under her control, the Serenity was flying like a leaf on the wind. She nimbly dodged between two of the three medium ships and was disappointed by the sight of the third barely avoiding collision with the other two. River was having a lot of fun, as they were amateurs. The big one worried her though. Big, big, big as the sky… he knows… but not for long. River skillfully dodged another barrage of missiles, but one exploded near the port side and the deck rumbled beneath her.

Mal came stumbling up into the cockpit. "That was waaaaaay too close for comfort, River! Get us out of here!"

River quickly decided on a good course of action. The Serenity started on a course to go right past the cruiser. The three smaller ships gave chase, slowly gaining on her. She switched direction and flew directly toward the cruiser. The ships charged towards each other, and neither of them wavered.

They came closer… and closer… At the last second River dived. The alliance ships crashed together, and River flew away. She felt so alive and free; she almost didn't notice Mal tapping her on the shoulder.

"Good job, River. I'll take over now. You deserve a rest."

River didn't really want to go. She felt like she had a purpose when she was at the controls. She handed them over to Mal anyway. She didn't want him to think that there was something the matter with her.

She walked back to her room along the back corridors. Mal had given her strict orders to not let the passengers know that River Tam was hiding aboard Serenity. The official alliance story on her was that she was a psychopathic killer, so they might try to call for help and attract more alliance attention. Presently she climbed down into her cabin, flopped on the bed, and went to sleep.

River didn't dream of reavers that night.

It was cloudy and grey, like mist. The mist was endless, broken only by one splotch of darkness and three bright pinpoints of light. Then the light and dark began to grow. They got bigger and bigger until they clashed against each other. The light began to overpower the dark until it was only a small portion of its former size. Then, something changed. The darkness grew stronger, fighting back the light inch by inch. It reached out to the light and planted a seed of darkness in the heart of the brightest point. The darkness grew. The dream changed. Now the light and the dark were one plain. The darkness spread out of a great beast, the light from three bright warriors. The darkness grew inside the biggest until it consumed it, but it was a different darkness, a cunning one. It Turned to one of it's former brothers and stabbed it through the heart. The brilliant light fell to its knees, fading into a mere shadow, then disappeared. The new darkness and the old both turned to the last of the light. The shadow grew and covered all that had once been bright, spreading even to the last light. Darkness lanced through its body, spreading up until the only light that remained was its hand… but the last light wasn't done… its hand lit up in a tiny flame that grew and grew until it was a blazing inferno. It blazed across the plain, destroying the traitor and blasting the dark. In the end it devoured all but a small splotch of dark and a small pinpoint of light… then all was grey… until the dark began to grow again.

In a bright flash of light, River was suddenly awake. Something was wrong.

River jumped out of bed and flew up the ladder. I have to get to Mal! she thought. She was sprinting to the cockpit when she tripped on something in the darkness. Barely recovering, she turned to see what she'd tripped over.

She could only make out a bare outline, so she reached out and felt... a hand. It was a semi normal hand with a scar on the ring finger. Where my ex-wife ripped the ring she gave me off my finger… No! Not yours! Not me! Get out!

I remember now... she was angry... she said I was a liar... a trickster... I tried to tell her that I really did love her. She shoved some papers in my face, said they had my criminal record on them... I begged her not to go. I showed her my hand, the hand with the ring she'd put on my finger, and told her I was telling the truth. She looked me in the eye and tore the ring off. I was so... angry. SO, SO, ANGRY! I lost control... I didn't mean to... I wasn't going to hurt her... but I was so ANGRY-No! Not yours! Not yours! Get out of my head!

River gripped her head and started to sob. The memories weren't hers. They belonged to the dead con man on the floor; a piece of the shattered memories of a dead soul.

"Get out of my head… get out… get out!" River cried into the night.

The Doctor hadn't been sleeping. He didn't really need to sleep. That was why he heard the echoes of the physical and mental anguish of the person in the corridor.

Get out…get out… they said over and over.

The Doctor rushed to the spot, almost tripping on the way up the stairs. He looked around in the dark, but he couldn't see a thing. Instead, he listened.

"GET OUT OF ME!" River wailed, pounding her head. "YOU DON'T BELONG HERE!"

A man burst into the corridor. It was the strange man she couldn't read. The puzzle pieces clicked in her head as both her and the remains of the dead man's mind both whispered 'he's the murderer.' River fled, still trying to push the dead man away.

The Doctor began to make chase, yelling "Stop! Wait!" But before he could make any headway he tripped over something in the hallway. His hands felt sticky as he stood back up, and it only took him a moment to realize that his hands were covered in blood. A quick inspection of the body confirmed that he had tripped over a dead man. A quick inspection of the body revealed a jagged knife wound in the man's chest, almost a foot long. He sat back and considered for a moment, deciding that it would be wiser to leave the scene of the crime and let the body be found by the crew than to report it himself, as the captain seemed fairly sharp and he'd probably suspect the man who reported it. The Doctor quietly crept back to the TARDIS, making sure that no blood marked his path.

River sat with her hands around her knees up in the rafters, rocking back and forth. She'd finally managed to clear the intruder's thoughts out of her head, but she was still frightened by her close encounter with the murderer. Eventually she managed to look down, but her heart almost stopped. She could make out a man sitting, cleaning a big bronze knife, and humming a tune. He stood there, frozen, as he stood up and began to walk away. Just before he got out of hearing range, River heard crazy laughter echoing in the corridors. Even after he'd disappeared into the darkness, River still sat there, like a scared child, rocking back and forth.