She was warm, and safe. And when you’re little more than a week old, that’s more or less all that matters. Oh, and fed. And changed occasionally, although that end tends to deal with itself.

But even that young, you tend to know when something isn’t right. Particularly if it involves loud noises. And the loud noise coming from the pinkish blob that supplied food was not a happy noise. Bethany wailed. Immediately she felt hands around her, and movement through the air, before being enfolded into warmth. She could tell it was her mother, although the word meant nothing, simply from the scent. There was some sound, a pleasant whispering that soothed, and she stopped crying, just enjoying being held. She didn’t even mind it when the blob put her back in the small area, that smelled of someone else, but not unpleasant.

She started to doze, but something woke her up. She could feel tension, and she filled her lungs to wail again.

Suddenly something was in front of her, not the pink blob she knew, but another, someone different, a different smell. She was about to cry, but stopped. It picked her up, holding her tenderly, and all at once she felt secure. This was nice. No point in crying when it felt as nice as this. All friendly. All safe.

Simon picked up his daughter just as she was taking breath to fill Serenity once more with the wail of a distressed baby, holding her to him secure in his arms, stroking her head.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Nothing’s going to hurt you. I’ll see to that.”

Bethany opened sky blue eyes on him, filled with such contentment that he gasped.

“Simon?” Kaylee asked, stepping close to look down at their daughter.

“She’s beautiful,” he said, love filling him to the very top of his head.

“I told you she was,” Kaylee said, putting her arms around them both and smiling.