Angelle is mine...the rest is Joss's.

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The black...for some, it was home; a ship that carried their dreams and cushioned their pockets...to others, it was a prison that was filled with more loneliness and pain...to me, the first few hours always did a number to my stomach. My father said it was because I was landlocked as a child, venturing for my first time into space long after the war when we took a trip to the Valley. I have probably made hundreds of trips since then, but you would never know that as far as my nerves were concerned.

So I sat, bucket on one side of me and hard tack on the other. It was the only thing that kept my dinner down and I really didn't want it making a repeat performance in front of Mal and his crew. Guess it was a good thing they still didn't know I was an assassin. Weak stomach isn't exactly on the list of desirable attributes.

"You know the doctor can give you sumtin' for that." I heard him behind me and most of me wished he would have headed the other way. Guess today wasn't my day for wishes. "You okay, Angelle?"

"Just not good with the whole space travel thing. Give me an hour and I'll adjust." I smiled up at Mal, hoping my skin didn't look to green. After I was headed up the stairs was when it hit me so that had been where I stayed.

The captain sat next to me, handing me the hard tack. "I remember eating this. Used to drench it in whiskey just to make it edible."

"I've heard those stories. Dad said it was why he became a drunk, but truth be told, he was that long before." I laughed and my stomach wretched. Thankfully, I stopped it from completing the act.

"Never figured Sam's girl to get space sick." He looked at me with those blue eyes and I could just see trouble coming. In a way, he made me feel butterflies, though it could have also been the slightly over ripe tomatoes I had eaten earlier. "I was actually comin' to find you. 'Nara has a job she needs to be at 'fore we hit Whitefall. Is there anything