Simon looked out from under the awning into the sweeping storm, drumming on to the cover above them and dripping into runnels on the already sodden ground. “Do you think it will ever stop raining?”

Freya shrugged. “Probably. Eventually.” At Simon’s look of confusion, she laughed and went on, “Something went kerflooey with the terraforming. It rains a lot here.”

“Kerflooey? Is that a technical term?”

“Yeah.”

He shook his head, then grimaced as a rivulet of rain found its way inside his coat. “People must have become waterproofed, then.”

“You land here, you’ve got no way of getting further, so you make the best of a bad job.”

“Very pragmatic.”

Freya shrugged. “People adapt. You can get used to anything given long enough.” There was a beat. “So I understand.”

“I’m not surprised Inara decided to stop off at Persephone. And I don’t want to get used to it. There isn’t one part of me that isn’t wet.”

“I'm sure Kaylee won’t mind stripping you off and rubbing you down when we get back.”

Simon blushed a little, still finding his emotional attachment to the young engineer something of an enigma, particularly when spoken of in that fashion by this woman of many worlds. To cover his confusion, he posed a question that had been prodding his subconscious for some time. “I wanted to ask you – how long have you known Mal?”

“Oh, a long time. A very long damn time.”

“How did you two meet?”

“Well … you know he was a Browncoat?”

“I had gathered that.” He rubbed his jaw unconsciously. He still remembered the powerhouse Mal had delivered when he had dared to suggest the Captain was an Alliance stooge.

“So was I. He volunteered because he thought he could save his world. I joined because … I knew I couldn’t. And because I wanted to kill as many of them as I could.” Freya shrugged and looked into the young man’s eyes, wide with disbelief. “I was angry. Over what they did to me. I‘m not proud of it, Simon,” she added quickly. “Besides, it wore off pretty fas