Mal walked towards Serenity, his mind buzzing, not just with the hangover, but with the contents of the will. The thought uppermost in his mind was that, if Reilly hadn’t already been dead, he’d have killed him.

“Sir,” Zoe began. “Is this a good idea?”

“You got a better one?”

“We could always get them rooms in the town.”

“What with? We didn’t have the coin to keep them where they were.”

“But on board?”

“I'm open to suggestions.”

“I’ll try to think of some, sir.”

The Firefly came into view, and they continued in silence for a moment.

“Zoe, are you laughing?”

“No, sir.”

“’Cause if you’re laughing I ain’t above making a pregnant woman clean out the septic vat for a month.”

“I think my doctor might disapprove, sir.”

“It ain’t funny!”

“Actually, sir, I'm just imagining Freya’s face.”

“I don’t think you’re going to have to imagine for that long,” Mal said, sighing heavily.

“I wondered when you’d be getting back,” Freya smiled, standing on the middle catwalk as Mal and Zoe stepped into the cargo bay. “I thought we might …” She stopped as six young women filed in behind them. “Mal, I think you’re being followed.”

“Mmn?” He looked up at her, then glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, yeah.”

“Passengers?”

“Not exactly.”

“Oh?” She started slowly down the stairs. “So, what, you came over all insane and hired six new members of the crew? All girls?”

“Ain't crew neither.”

Freya gazed at him critically, reaching the bay floor. “So what are they?”

“They kinda … belong to me.”

His wife’s eyes opened a little wider, glancing at Zoe then back to her husband. “Would you mind running that by me again?”

“They belong to me. They’re Reilly’s … bequest.”

“His …” Freya stared at the girls, not one of them older than Kaylee. “You mean he owned them?”

“No, no,” Mal said quickly. “They’re his daughters.”

“They’re what?!”

“Please, Frey, don’t shout.” Mal squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“What the hell have you agreed to, Mal?”

“Nothing.” He