Domina put her arm around the boy. “He’s not your son.”

“Why don’t we go inside?” Mal said. “It’s kinda hot out here, and I could do with sitting in the shade.” He smiled. “’Sides, I don’t like talking when there’s a rifle trained on me.” He looked up towards the first floor and the glint of sunlight on a gun barrel. “Ain’t planning on shooting anyone, so I’d take it as a kindness if you’d do the same.”

“I don’t …” Domina looked down, almost embarrassed at being caught out, then up again in defiance at this tall man with the piercing blue eyes. “This isn’t a conversation I want to have in front of my son.”

Inara bridled, but Hank spoke quickly, running a hand through his untidy brown hair. “Why don’t I keep your … the boy entertained out here?” He grinned at Colm, who smiled tentatively back. “We won’t go anywhere.”

“I don’t know …” Domina said doubtfully.

“Good idea, Hank,” Mal agreed. “Ain’t planning on kidnapping either, Mrs Gerhardt. So, shall we?” He indicated she should go first.

“Mal …” Inara murmured.

“Take it easy. And remember to breathe.”

She shot him a sharp look but followed.

“So,” Hank said, still smiling. “You’re Colm.”

“Yes.” The boy looked at him.

“I’m Hank. And that’s my boat.” He flicked his thumb over his shoulder.

“Yours?”

“I’m the pilot.”

“Oh.” He paused then said, “She’s a Firefly.”

“That she is,” Hank said, surprised. “How’d you know that?”

Colm pulled a magazine from his back pocket. “I know about ships.” He stepped closer and showed Hank the pictures. There, in all her glory, was a Firefly.

“Hey, how old is this?” Hank asked, turning to the front cover.

“I found it in some of my poppa’s stuff,” Colm admitted. “He said it was rubbish, that I could keep it.”

“Not rubbish.”

Colm grinned. “No. Do you really fly her?”

“I surely do.”

“What’s it like?”

Hank sighed happily. “Well, let me tell you …”

---

Freya watched from inside the cargo bay as the others went into the house, leaving Hank to lo