Dear Mother,

I am inclosing some mor money for you I kno youre birthday is comming but you dint tell me wat you wanted so by youreself somethin pretty with this. Sins my last letter not much has changed. I am still workin with the crew I tole ya about and we still do what we can to make the verse a better plays to live. I aint been in no fights so stop worring. That Miranda wave werent as bad as you thawt and I keep tryin to tell ya but I think someones talking to much around ya and if he is who I think he is he is gonna here from me real soon. You tell him that if you want but I think he will catch the rite hints now.

I hope your doin shiny. I shur miss yur cookin. Tonite we had reheeted grull that wasnt no better the 2nd time around. I better git goin now. Were like to land soon and I want to git this in the male fore ya.

Love your son,

Jayne

***

"Captain?" Simon's voice was whisper-soft. Mal turned to him, releasing Inara's hand to do so.

"Keep still," Mal instructed. "They did the best they could on you, but you're going to have to doctor from your bedside a while yet."

"There were men," Simon went on, only barely conscious of Mal's words. "They fired at us...Kaylee?"

"She's fine," Mal replied. "Nothin' but a little cut on her arm and a new-found love for life."

"Good," Simon nodded, visibly relaxed. He frowned. "The baby?"

"Hobie's doin' better than his ma," Mal nodded. "Powerful set of lungs on that one, but he knew to keep quiet till the fightin' was done."

"And...River?"

"Still out," Mal answered, glancing quickly at the center bed. She had been Simon's last patient, from what Zoë had told him. Simon had been shot while working on his sister and directed Kaylee's shaking hands once Jayne had finished dispatching the mysterious attacker.

"Vitals?" Simon asked, ever the doctor. Mal read them to the barely conscious medic and followed the young man's instructions without question.

"What happened to your arm?" Simon finally asked, now fully aw