Mal checked the manifest. Three crates of assorted medical equipment and supplies, ranging from syringes and kidney bowls to a small portable scanner, going to a small community who would be more than grateful. He grinned. And yet another Alliance hospital was counting the cost of the dread Reynolds and his gang. Simon sure knew his way around the supply closet. Mal’s grin grew. Maybe it was something he needed to talk to Kaylee about.

He heard the beep of a wave coming from the shuttle‘s main console, but ignored it. Zoe would deal with it.

“What is it, honey?” she asked, seeing Hank on the screen.

“Um … is Mal there?”

“In the back. Why?”

“Can you … get him?”

She looked at him, but he just smiled hopefully. “Captain,” Zoe called.

“Yeah.” Mal stepped onto the small bridge, surprised to see the face of his pilot. “Hank? What is it?”

“How … how much longer are you likely to be?”

Mal’s brows drew down at the odd tone in Hank’s voice. “Well, seeing as we left Serenity only an hour ago it’ll take us another hour to get to the delivery point, then get paid … What the hell –”

“Mal, I think you’d better get back here right now.” There was a grin more like a rictus on his face.

“Hank –”

“Freya’s in labour.”

Mal grabbed for the back of the pilot’s chair. “What?”

“Labour. You know, where your wife gets all vicious and mean and eventually pushes a baby out of –”

Suddenly Freya appeared on the screen, forcing Hank out of the way.

“Malcolm Reynolds, you get your ass the hell back here right now! You are not going to do this to me again!”

“Frey?”

“This baby is coming and I’m …” She stopped as a contraction pulsed through her, her faced screwed tight against it, holding onto the seat.

“Breathe, Frey,” Hank said softly.

“You gorram breathe,” she ground out.

On the shuttle Mal could do nothing but watch, berating himself that he wasn’t –

Zoe input new co-ordinates and the stars whirled lazily in the window.

The contraction receded. “Mal, please.