PART EIGHT

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Who'll walk me down to church when I'm sixty years of age

When the ragged dog they gave me has been ten years in the grave

And señorita play guitar, play it just for you

My rosary has broken and my beads have all slipped through

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You've hung up your great coat and you've laid down your gun

You know the war you fought in wasn't too much fun

And the future you're giving me holds nothing for a gun

I've no wish to be living sixty years on

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Yes I'll sit with you and talk let your eyes relive again

I know my vintage prayers would be very much the same

And Magdelena plays the organ, plays it just for you

Your choral lamp that burns so low when you are passing through

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And the future you're giving me holds nothing for a gun

I've no wish to be living sixty years on

[Sixty years on – Elton John]

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[Chose this song after re-hearing it recently. Bernie Taupin wrote foreshadowing Browncoat lyrics!]

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Vera and Jayne had washed in the small new lake and were now resting on the wide, low branch of a tree in the shade. Jayne had his back to the trunk and Vera was sitting between his legs. They were snuggling and eating mangoes and energy bars.

“Ya don't make a habit of bitin' off a guy's diao, do ya?”

Vera turned and tenderly cupped his jaw with one hand, making eye contact, “First time, promise. And, I devoutly hope, the last.” she made a disgusted expression, then continued, “Things were getting to the stage where I thought I was really going to have to let him...” Vera shuddered.

“Glad ya didn't. Didn't feel like real Berserkers either.”

Vera shook her head, “Nor to me. Not really psychopathic enough, thank goodness, otherwise you might have been collecting me in pieces. Plus there were instructions coming from somewhere else, from someone higher up the chain. I got the distinct impression that they were told not to hurt me. I was in a cell a lot of the time. Didn't even clock my thigh knife.”

“Sloppy.”

“Indeed. *Very sloppy. Gave them a fake name, of course. Better warn Serenity PD