Mal stopped in the cargo bay, his thumbs hitched in his pants pockets. He looked around, seemingly at nothing in particular, then spoke, his warm toffee voice normal conversation level.

“River, we need to have that talk.”

“She’s not here,” came a voice from the top of a stack of crates. “She left.”

“Pretty cold outside,” Mal said. “Wouldn’t’ve thought she’d have gone without saying goodbye. At least to Bethany.”

There was a pause. “What talk?”

“’Bout Jethro. And you knew it was coming, albatross.”

There was no movement for a moment or two, then she sighed and climbed down. She looked at him through her hair. “Hello,” she said. “Did you miss me?”

“I guess we’d have noticed eventually.” He nodded towards a box. “Better sit down.”

“I'm fine.”

“Well, I ain't standing.” He sat down, perched on the edge. “Be obliged if you’d join me.”

She gazed at him then glided across to him, sitting down and slipping her legs under her. “How’s Freya?” she asked.

“She’s shiny, thanks for asking. And no changing the subject.”

“I just –“

“River.” He contemplated her, the hair she still used like a shield, the soft dress and bare feet, looking for all the ‘verse like a girl, not the young woman he knew her to be. “So.”

“So,” she echoed.

“So he’s here. I'm lettin’ him stay a while.” He lifted his eyebrow at her. “Why am I doing that?”

“He’s my friend.”

“Oh, I know that, on account of you telling everyone. But I’ll say it even if no-one else will. You were at Bathgate for a total of three days. You met the man … how often?”

River stared at her hands, twisted together in her lap. “It doesn’t matter how long –“

“I think it does.” He spoke kindly but firmly. “You’re making like you’ve got your whole life together planned out. He ain't a toy, River. Or a puppy, or any other kind of lost creature. He’s a grown man. So I'm asking what you’re planning on doing with him.”

“I couldn’t leave him to be hurt –“

“No, that’s plainly the case. And it was a piec