“This ain’t good.” Jayne tested the ropes tying him again, but they still wouldn’t budge. If they hadn’t taken his knife, he’d have been able to cut them loose, but right now he was totally incapacitated.

“You think you could state something more than the blindingly obvious?” Mal asked, his own efforts at getting free only cutting into his wrists, making the rope slick.

“Just saying, Mal.”

“Well, don’t.”

“Figure the girls are out there?”

“Hope not.”

“Yeah, me too, but you think they are?”

“Probably.” Mal squirmed, trying to get his hand out of the wet bonds.

“You’re cutting yourself to ribbons,” Jayne said, glancing over.

“Yeah, well, don’t see you doing no better.”

“If’n I could get to ya, maybe we could do something.”

“Somehow I’ve a notion that’s unlikely.” Mal leaned back against the mine support he was tied to.

Jayne eyed the barrels of gunpowder. “Ya know, they could’ve been more considerate. Leaving that stuff so close.”

Mal turned his head. “You think?”

“I mean, it ain't like we’re gonna –“

“Shh.” Mal tilted his head.

“What?”

“Listen.”

“Don’t hear …” He stopped, his body totally still. “Shit.”

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Think so.”

They both turned towards the slight sound, a susurration that barely registered.

From out in the darkness of the tunnel, sparking like a damn firework, the flame raced along the fuse, splitting as it headed for the barrels.

“Shit.”

-

--

---

Six days earlier …

It had been nearly a week since the operation, and Freya was healing fast. She and Mal had been using their temporary quarters again, but right now Simon was just finishing his latest check up.

“I wish I could bottle your body’s ability,” the young man said, shaking his head at her as she carefully sat up on the medbed. “I could make a fortune.”

“Apart from the rest of us getting over the slings and arrows that outrageous fortune throws at us once in a while,” Mal added, smiling at his wife.

“Well, if I knew how,