What the hell do I do now? Mal asked himself, sitting on the bridge of the ship that had been his home for more than six years now. It’s been nearly three months since Wash … and Book … Zoe’s hardly come out of her bunk ‘cept to eat and work, Jayne’s been working out every hour he can, trying to put the Preacher out of his mind … only ones seem anywhere near happy are Kaylee and the Doc, and that’s mainly ‘cause they’re spending all their time grappling with each other.

He lifted one booted foot to rest on the console. It’s good that River’s better, I mean that’s a good thing. Nearly got myself split to do it, but … and the whole ‘verse knows now about Miranda. Might put a firework up the collective Alliance pigu, but somehow I ain't got the faith it’ll do much more than fizz a little then go out. Big things like the Alliance tend to weather the storm. Just wait for it to go away, til the next big thing comes along to fill the Cortex and take everyone’s mind off the millions of people who died …

Lifting his hand, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. The headache was still there, had been for a while. Maybe he should go see the doctor for a painkiller, knock it out once and for all, only the thought of walking in on the pair of them … Ain't gonna do that. Not again. Least, not for a while. Too much flesh on display. He shuddered at the memory.

Someone put their hands on his shoulders, and he realised he was too tired to care who it was.

“If’n you gonna kill me, do it quick,” he said. “Kinda ain't got the wherewithal to worry about it too much.”

“Not going to kill you, captain,” River said softly, massaging the knots in his muscles.

“Oh, that’s …” He groaned. “How the hell’d you learn how to do that?” he asked, his eyes closing a little.

“I know what you need. See what you need. And you need her.”

His eyes flew open. “Need who, little albatross?”

“She’s waiting for you. Has been for three months.”

“Well, I’ve been here. Not like I was gonna