Hank looked at himself in the mirror over the small sink and smiled. He’d showered and changed after helping unload the cargo, and now wore one of his white shirts and dark navy pants. His hair, while always untidy, was at least freshly washed, and he felt good. He’d actually enjoyed humping the crates off Serenity – although he was a pilot he tended to do a bit of everything, but heavy lifting once in a while made him feel more … masculine. He laughed, and his reflection joined in the joke. He’d have to tell Zoe that one.

Right now his wife, though, was in the shuttle with Ben, having a little mother/son time. He’d begun sniffling a short while ago, and Zoe had taken him to join the others. Of all the children, only Jesse seemed untouched. Not that he was worried. Well, not too worried. Simon was going to get the antiviral, they’d been paid, and now there looked to be the possibility of more work.

Macallum had been insistent as he climbed into the buckboard. “I'm not taking no for an answer, Captain Reynolds. You and your wife will join me for and mine for dinner. Seven pm. We’re the big house some ten miles outside town to the east.”

“It’s kind of you to offer –“

But Mal wasn't able to decline.

“Seven pm. And maybe we can talk a little business. I might be in the market for a good man to run some errands for me. Could be a once a month thing, maybe more.” He fixed Mal with a stern eye. “We’ll talk about it tonight.” With that he whipped up the horses and followed the container truck out of the dock.

So now Mal and Freya had gotten spruced up and taken the hovermule to dinner, with strict instructions to the rest of the crew to let them know if anything happened, and for Kaylee to keep an eye on Jesse, even though she was in bed and not likely to wake, and to keep monitoring the coms in case Simon needed something, and to – Kaylee had taken affront at that point and told them both to get out. Still, Mal had practically had to drag Freya off the boat, promising they