Is it really necessary to put disclaimers when the site already has that covered at the bottom of every page? (Otherwise, you ought to know by now. Joss and Mutant Enemy own your soul.)

***

"Malcolm Reynolds!" The commanding female voice rang across the yard, all the way to the barn, where her son was mucking out stalls.

"Coming, Mama!" Mal called back, setting aside his shovel and running up to the house. Diedre Reynolds was not the kind of woman you kept waiting. "What is it, Mama?" he asked when he reached the door. It wasn't that unusual for his mother to interrupt his chores, but she also only did it when it was absolutely necessary.

She looked him over briefly, a somewhat distant, almost sad expression on her face. "Go on inside and get yerself cleaned up. And you can call it a day on yer chores. I'm sure that hurts yer feelin's." she gave him a little smile as she stood aside to let him into the house.

If she hadn't had it before, Diedre had Mal's complete attention now. Interrupting chores was one thing, but letting him off the hook completely? It was unheard of. Not that he was complaining, but it gave him a weird, sort of unsettled feeling in his stomach. Like there was something he was missing here.

Walking past her, he jogged up to his room for a quick refresher. He changed his shirt and splashed his face with water, then made sure his hands were clean. Once he was sure that he was sufficiently presentable to his mama, he went back downstairs to see what this was all about. Times had been tough lately, what with the damn core planets and their Alliance thinking they could run the place. He just prayed to God that they hadn't lost the ranch or something.

"Mama?" he asked again, when he found her in the den. She was sitting in her usual comfy chair, the one that she plopped down in after a long day's work, and she had a vidscreen in her lap. Mal thought she looked more tired and wary than he'd ever seen her, and it really worried him. Slowly, he walked over to her, resting his hand