Freya leaned against the side of the old Phoenix parked opposite, waiting, watching the open cargo bay doors of Serenity. She straightened as she saw someone coming out. “Hey,” she called.

“Hi.” He grinned at her from under his mop of untidy blond hair.

“So, how’d it go?” she asked as Wash came towards her.

“Shiny. I start straight away.”

“Great!”

He looked at her. “Why didn’t you want to come in?”

“What, cap in hand, begging Mal to take you on? Hell, he’d have had a seizure from laughing so much. Besides, you need a job, he needs a pilot. And you’re okay.”

“Just okay?” he wheedled.

“All right, so you’re one of the best. Look, he didn’t need me to give you a reference. Tanaka and Renshaw have been almost coming to blows about you for weeks. I was just … putting you together.”

“Well, you did a good job.” He hugged her and they kissed. “Do you get commission?”

She nodded. “First three jobs, twenty-five percent.”

“Fifteen. And I let you take me to bed,” Wash countered.

“Let’s make it a flat twenty, we get your bags, you settle in … and I’ll buy the drinks.”

He made a face. “That ain't fair.”

“Fine. You buy.” She let him go and grinned. “Come on. Let’s get your stuff.”

He followed her, his lurid shirt almost glowing in the afternoon sun. “So you think I'm good?” he asked.

“You’re okay.”

“So does this mean you’re going to sleep with me again?”

“No.”

“Why not?” he asked plaintively.

“Because it was one time, I was drunk and you were pushy!”

“I’ll let you call me Mal again,” Wash offered.

For a moment Freya wavered. Then said, “That’s … no. No,” very firmly.

“Will you at least think about it?”

“No.”

“Spoilsport.”

In the bar he tried again. “Come on. Wouldn’t kill you.”

“Wash, I am not going to sleep with you!” Freya put her mug down with a thump on the table. “I don’t love you!”

“But you love Mal?”

She looked at him, and for once he thought he’d gone too far. “Yeah. I do,” she said finally